Zombie mode

The cafeteria noise hit me like a physical wave. I'd been operating on pure zombie mode since finals week began—three hours of sleep, energy drinks for breakfast, and my brain feeling like it had been replaced with mush.

"Yo, Marcus! You good?" Tank slumped onto the bench across from me, his usual oversized hoodie drowning his frame. "You look like you've been dragged through a portal backwards."

"Living the dream," I muttered, poking at my mystery meat. "Just waiting for graduation to become a real person."

But that wasn't entirely true. I was waiting for something else—waiting to work up the nerve to finally talk to Shayla, who sat three tables away with her friends, laughing like she didn't have a care in the world.

Outside, summer lightning flickered across the sky, the storm rolling in like my own building anxiety. Tomorrow was the last day of school, and if I didn't say something now, I'd regret it all summer.

I'd been basically acting as her personal spy for weeks now—not in a creepy way, but in that desperate teenage obsession way where you notice everything. I knew she wrote poetry in that beat-up notebook she carried everywhere. I knew she hated mint chocolate chip ice cream. I knew she stayed after school to help Mr. Henderson with the AV equipment even though she claimed it was "lame."

"You're doing that thing again," Tank said, following my gaze. "That thing where you stalk her with your eyes."

"I'm not stalking! I'm... observing from a distance."

"Bruh, that's literally what stalking is."

Outside, lightning cracked closer, making the overhead lights flicker. The cafeteria went momentarily quiet.

That's when I saw it—Shayla's notebook had fallen open next to her tray. And even from here, I could see my name written on the page.

"No way," I breathed.

"What?" Tank turned to look.

"She wrote about me. In her poetry notebook."

"Or," Tank said, "she's plotting your murder because she caught you observing from a distance like a total weirdo."

But I was already standing up, zombie mode replaced by sudden, terrifying clarity. The hallway outside was empty, rain starting to pound against the windows. I could do this. I would do this.

"Wish me luck," I told Tank.

"You're gonna need it, fam," he called after me. "Don't come back until you've either secured the date or accepted your fate as a lonely wizard."

I walked toward her table, every nerve ending firing like that summer lightning. Whatever happened tomorrow, at least I wouldn't be a zombie anymore. I'd finally be alive.