Zombie Mode at the Meet

Maya's eyes burned as she blinked at the pool deck ceiling, the fluorescent lights buzzing like a dying insect. Four hours of sleep. That's what happened when you had three AP exams, swim practice, and a history final all in the same week. She was operating on pure zombie mode, dragging herself through the regional championship like her body belonged to someone else.

"You look rough, Maya," her teammate Luis called out, fist-bumping her as they positioned themselves behind the blocks. "Rough enough that my dog could outswim you today."

"Shut up, Luis," Maya groaned, but she managed a weak smile. Luis's golden retriever, Buster, was notorious for wandering onto the pool deck during practice and stealing goggles.

The whistle blew. Maya dove in, the water shocking her system awake. For the first lap, she felt good—her arms slicing through the water, her legs kicking with rhythm. But by the third lap, the zombie feeling crept back in. Her movements grew sluggish. She was swimming through molasses.

Then her hand smacked the lane line, and everything went wrong. She surfaced gasping, swallowing water, while the swimmer in the next lane over finished strong. Maya pulled herself to the side, mortified as her coach's voice carried across the pool.

She sat on the bench, head in her hands, tears stinging her eyes. This was it. The moment everyone realized she wasn't the talented swimmer they thought she was. Just another burned-out teenager in over her head.

A cold nose pressed against her palm. Maya looked up to see Buster, who'd apparently escaped Luis's dad again, sitting beside her bench with his tail thumping rhythmically against the concrete.

"Buster!" Luis called from across the deck, but the dog didn't move. He just leaned into Maya's side, his warm weight grounding her, his goofy dog grin making her laugh through the tears.

Maybe it was okay to feel like a zombie sometimes. Maybe you just needed a dog who didn't care about your times, your GPA, or your failures—someone who just thought you were worth sitting with, even when you were at your worst.

Maya rubbed his ears, took a deep breath, and stood up. Next race, she'd be ready. Zombie mode or not.