Zombie Mode Activated

The Monday morning zombie walk through Westwood High's hallway was practically an Olympic sport by second period. I was operating on three hours of sleep—thank you, Sunday night existential crisis—and my brain felt like it had been put through a blender.

"You look like literal death," Maya said, sliding into the seat beside me in AP Economics. She somehow looked flawless, because the universe was unfair like that.

"I feel like a zombie," I groaned, dropping my head onto my desk. "If there's a zombie apocalypse, I'm prepared. I've been practicing my walk for days."

Mr. Henderson paced at the front of the room, looking way too enthusiastic for 8 AM. "Today, we're playing our market simulation game! Remember: some of you are bulls, some of you are bears. Buy low, sell high!"

I perked up. This was the one thing I might actually be good at. My dad had been teaching me about stocks since I was twelve, mostly because he lost money in that meme stock crash and wanted me to avoid his mistakes.

"You're a bear, Alex," Henderson announced, handing me my team assignment. "Your job is to short the market."

A bear. Shorting the market. Perfect for my current mood.

The game began. I started shorting everything—tech stocks, crypto, the whole nine yards. Meanwhile, this kid Jason, who'd been assigned the bull position, was buying everything like he was playing Monopoly with fake money. Which he technically was.

"You're gonna crash the whole market!" Jason laughed, spinning in his chair like he owned the place. "My portfolio is up 40%!"

"That's exactly what happens before a crash," I said, surprising myself with how calm I sounded. "The bulls get too confident. Then reality hits."

For the next twenty minutes, I watched the virtual market climb higher and higher. Jason kept bragging, his voice getting louder with each fake percentage gain. Maya rolled her eyes so hard I thought they'd fall out.

Then something weird happened. I started getting this weird feeling—not like anxiety, but like clarity. The kind that hits like lightning, sudden and unmistakable.

"What are you doing?" Maya whispered as I clicked the big red SELL ALL button on my screen.

"Trust me," I said.

The market crashed. Jason's portfolio went from +40% to -60% in three minutes. My short position skyrocketed. The room went silent except for Jason's dramatic groan.

Mr. Henderson checked the final numbers. "Alex's team wins with a 120% return."

"No way!" Jason spun around in his chair again, this time looking at me with actual respect. "How did you know that was coming?"

I shrugged, feeling weirdly self-conscious. "I don't know. It just... felt right."

Maya bumped my shoulder. "That was actually sick, Alex."

Outside the classroom, the hallways were filling up for lunch. The zombie walk from this morning felt miles away. For the first time all week, I didn't feel like I was just surviving until the weekend.

Maybe Monday wasn't so bad after all. Maybe I wasn't just surviving. Maybe—just maybe—I was actually starting to figure this stuff out.

A tiny lightning bolt of confidence, right there in the hallway between second and third period. Who knew?