Zombie Mode and the Missing Tabby

I was operating on maybe three hours of sleep, total zombie mode, dragging myself through third period chemistry when Maya tapped my shoulder. "You look like you've been binge-watching apocalyptic movies again." I snorted. "More like final projects are destroying my soul." My phone buzzed. Mom: Have you seen Buster? He got out again. Great. Our neurotic **dog** had pulled yet another Houdini act. The backyard fence was basically decorative at this point. After school, I'm trudging through the neighbor's yard calling for Buster when I spot something weird in the old Henderson place. A silhouette in the attic window. No way Henderson was back—he'd been in a nursing home since forever. Then I heard it. The softest, most pathetic meow. A **cat** was trapped up there. Of course my zombie-brain decided this was my problem now. I found a lattice panel loose, climbed up like I was in some stealth mission (video game skills finally paying off), and squeezed through an unlatched window. The cat—a tiny calico—was huddled in the corner. She hissed at me. "Yeah yeah, I'm scary," I muttered, grabbing her with my sweatshirt. She bit me. Whatever. We both tumbled out the window, me nearly faceplanting in a rosebush, clinging to this furious bundle of fur. That's when I heard laughter. Maya stood there holding a leash. "Is that... Mrs. Henderson's cat?" I froze. "Technically I'm rescuing her?" She grinned, dimples and everything. "You're literally breaking and entering to rescue a cat. That's unhinged." "I prefer 'chaotic good,'" I said, trying to sound smooth while bleeding from a cat scratch. Maya helped me wrangle the calico into a carrier she'd somehow brought. We walked back in what should've been awkward silence but wasn't. "You know," she said, "I always thought you were just quiet. Turns out you're secretly feral." My face burned. "Finals week does things to people." She laughed again, and something in my chest did a stupid little flip. We reunited the cat with its actual owner (turned out Henderson's granddaughter was staying there). Found Buster three streets over, eating someone's pizza crusts. Walking home, Maya said, "We should hang out. Outside of class. And outside of breaking into houses." I managed to say yes without tripping over my own feet. Sometimes you have to go full **zombie** from sleep deprivation, commit mild crimes, and get attacked by a cat to finally talk to your crush. Honestly? Worth it.