Zombie Mode

Marcus dragged himself through third period feeling like actual zombie. The AP History lecture droned on, and he'd had four hours of sleep thanks to that chem lab write-up. His phone buzzed—his mom reminding him to take his vitamin D supplements because "winter makes everyone sad." He rolled his eyes. Not even supplements could fix this level of academic burnout.

Lunch was supposed to be his escape, but there was Jason by the lockers, holding court like he owned the school. Jason—varsity quarterback, walking cologne advertisement, total bull. "Hey Marcus," Jason called out, voice dripping with that practiced fake friendliness. "Heard you got a B on that calc test. Rough." The group around him snickered.

Marcus's face burned. He hated how Jason could get under his skin, make three years of hard work feel like nothing. He kept walking, staring at his worn-out Converse.

Home couldn't come fast enough. The moment he pushed through the front door, Barnaby—his ancient, smushed-face pug—came waddling out, tail going crazy. Barnaby, who didn't care about GPAs or college apps or whatever nonsense Jason was spouting today. Barnaby, who just wanted belly rubs and maybe some cheese.

Marcus dropped his backpack and sank onto the floor, letting his dog cover his face in enthusiastic kisses. For the first time all day, the zombie fog lifted. He wasn't worrying about tomorrow's Spanish presentation or whether he'd make varsity track or how to handle Jason's crap.

"You're the only one who gets it, Barns," Marcus murmured, scratching behind the dog's ears.

His phone lit up with a text from his study group partner: we still meeting for bio??? Marcus stared at it, then at Barnaby, who'd flopped onto his back demanding attention. He typed back: nah, taking a mental health night. The words felt foreign—almost reckless.

He grabbed his skateboard instead. The winter air bit his cheeks as he carved through empty streets, wind clearing the mental fog. For once, he wasn't thinking ahead. Just this. Just now.

Tomorrow, the stress would come back. Jason would still be a jerk. But right now, Marcus was just a kid on a skateboard with his dog watching from the window, and that was enough.