Zombie Mode Activated

Maya dragged herself into third period, running on two hours of sleep and vibes that could best be described as a zombie apocalypse in progress. Her AP History essay was due at midnight, and she'd spent the whole night overthinking it instead of, you know, actually writing it.

"You look like death," her best friend Riya whispered, sliding into the desk beside her.

Maya just groaned. The cafeteria breakfast sat like a brick in her stomach — spinach and egg whites, the saddest meal she'd ever subjected herself to in the name of "eating healthy." Whatever that even meant.

Mr. Henderson was already droning on about ancient civilizations. "The sphinx was a guardian of knowledge," he said, pulling up a PowerPoint slide. "A creature with the body of a lion and the head of a human or ram."

Maya doodled in the margins of her notebook. That was her, wasn't it? Guarding knowledge she barely understood, pretending to have everything figured out while everyone else seemed to be navigating life effortlessly. She was a total sphinx — mysterious, slightly terrifying, and honestly? Just winging it.

"What's got you in your feels today?" Riya asked as the bell finally rang.

"Everything," Maya admitted. "I feel like I'm faking my way through basically everything. School, friendships, my entire personality..."

Riya squeezed her shoulder. "That's called being a teenager. We're all just foxes — clever and adaptable because we have to be."

Maya snorted. "Since when are you quoting motivational speeches?"

"Since my therapist told me that anxiety is basically my brain trying to protect me from nonexistent threats. Like being scared everyone will hate me if I'm not perfect."

They walked toward the gym, past the hallway where Maya had sat alone freshman year, convinced she'd never find her people. Now here she was, with a ride-or-die bestie and a squad that texted in their own made-up language.

"You know what?" Maya said, feeling a little more alive. "I'm done with zombie mode. Let's go to the game tonight. I'll wear my lucky socks."

"Now that's the energy," Riya said. "Besides, Tyler will be there."

"Okay, let's not get crazy." Maya laughed, but she felt lighter somehow. Not perfect, not fixed — but maybe that was the point. Being a sphinx meant guarding her own story, on her own terms. And sometimes? Sometimes it was okay to just survive on spinach and three hours of sleep until the good parts came around again.