Zombie Mode

The summer before junior year, I got a job as a "zombie" at Adventure World's Fright Zone – basically, I shambled around in rotting makeup while middle schoolers threw popcorn at my head. It was mortifying, but my parents said I needed "real world experience," whatever that meant.

The real punishment wasn't the zombie makeup. It was that I had to work right next to the wave pool, where Tyler Chen – varsity baseball star, objectively the cutest guy at school, and my crush since eighth grade – spent every single afternoon with his friends. They'd sit by the palm trees, laughing, while I lurked in the shadows, pretending to eat brains.

I'd take off my baseball cap during breaks, hoping the brim would hide my face. But Tyler noticed me anyway.

"Hey, Zombie," he said one afternoon, dropping onto the bench beside me. I froze, caught mid-bite of my sad sandwich. "You're Marcus's cousin, right? From honors bio?"

I nodded, barely able to speak. Tyler knew my name.

"You're pretty dedicated to the bit," he continued. "Marcus said you've been working here since June. That's hardcore."

"Someone's gotta scare the kids," I managed, my voice cracking slightly.

He laughed, and it was this genuine sound that made something warm unfold in my chest. "You know, I was gonna work here, but my mom said I had to focus on baseball. Speaking of..." He pulled a baseball from his pocket, spinning it between his fingers. "Show me your palm."

"What?"

"Palm reading," he said, like it was obvious. "My nana taught me. It's this whole thing. Let me see your hand."

Hesitant, I extended my hand. He traced the lines with surprising gentleness, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"You're gonna do something big," he said finally, looking up. "I can feel it. Something creative. Something that matters."

I blinked. "I'm just a zombie."

"Zombie mode," he corrected. "We've all been there. Junior year will do that to you." He stood up, tossing the baseball in the air. "Same time tomorrow? I can teach you how to actually throw."

"I'd like that," I said, feeling something shift inside me – like I wasn't just playing a part anymore.

He walked toward the swimming pool, turned back, and grinned. "Nice hat, by the way."

For the first time all summer, I didn't want to hide my face. Being a zombie wasn't so bad when someone actually saw you.