Zombie Mode Activated

Maya stumbled into third period AP Bio looking like something that had crawled out of a grave. Three hours of sleep would do that to you. Thanks, calculus exam.

"Dude, you're operating on full zombie mode," whispered Jordan, sliding into the seat beside her. "Your eyeliner's basically down to your chin at this point."

Maya flipped her off weakly. Jordan was her oldest friend, the person who'd held her hair back that one time behind the bleachers, and currently the only reason she hadn't straight-up transferred to the school across town after The Incident. But even Jordan couldn't fix the fact that Maya had to bear the weight of her parents' expectations like they were physical objects strapped to her back.

"My cat decided 3 AM was the perfect time to reenact the Olympics across my face," Maya whispered back, massaging her temples. "Luna's lucky she's cute."

Mr. Henderson was droning on about cellular respiration, but Maya's brain had officially clocked out. She was deep in that weird mental space where you're awake but also kind of not, existing in the horrible limbo between functioning human and actual corpse. The classroom had that sterile classroom smell, all floor wax and whiteboard markers and the collective sweat of thirty stressed teenagers.

Then her phone buzzed.

Riley had posted another story.

Maya's stomach did that thing it always did lately — like someone had reached in and twisted it into a pretzel. Riley, who'd been her person since they were six, who'd promised they'd get through freshman year together, who'd found new friends with cooler hair and better weed and somehow left Maya behind in the process.

The story showed Riley and those new friends at someone's house, everyone laughing and golden-lit and perfect. The caption read: "squad goals frfr 💀"

The skeleton emoji hit weirdly different when you were literally sitting in class feeling like a zombie.

"Don't," Jordan said softly, catching her expression. "Riley's not worth it. You know this."

"I miss her though," Maya whispered, and hated how her voice cracked. "Like, I know she's being toxic as hell, but she was my person. Now I'm just... here. Alone. With my cat."

Jordan snorted. "First of all, Luna is a queen and you know it. Second, you're not alone. You've got me. And besides, maybe this was bound to happen. People change."

"But why am I always the one left behind?" Maya's eyes burned. "First it was the math team drama last year, now this. I'm like, chronically friend-breakable."

"Okay, one, that's not a word. Two, you're not breakable. You're growing. And sometimes that means outgrowing people." Jordan tapped their pen against the desk. "Look at zombies, right? They're all about survival. They literally cannot stop moving forward. They lose limbs, they get shot, they take damage, and they keep going. That's kinda powerful if you think about it."

Maya stared at Jordan. "Did you just compare my emotional growth to zombies?"

"I'm gonna to choose to be flattered by your cat's judgment right now. But for real — you're going to be okay. And hey, if all else fails, we can go to my house after school. My mom got those spicy chips that are literally illegal in three states."

Maya laughed, and it felt like something finally loosening in her chest. Outside, the sun was actually shining for once, making everything look golden and possible. She was tired, and sad, and seriously questioning everything about her life. But she wasn't dead. She wasn't a zombie, not really. She was just... in process.

"Fine," Maya said. "But if Luna tries to sleep on my face again tonight, I'm sending her to live with you."

"Deal. Now shut up, Henderson's looking at us like we're his next victims."

<arg_value>The zombie joke landed, and for the first time all week, Maya didn't feel like she was barely surviving. She felt like she was actually, slowly, starting to live again.