Zombie Mode at the Pool Party

I was operating on zero sleep, basically a straight-up zombie after pulling an all-nighter to finish my English essay that I'd procrastinated on for three weeks. So when Maya invited me to her pool party, I obviously said yes even though my social battery was at 1%.

The baseball team had already claimed the prime spots on the patio furniture, of course. Jason, the pitcher who'd been flirting with Maya since freshman year, was shirtless and holding court like he owned the place. I grabbed a plate from the food table and tried to look busy, accidentally picking up what looked like melon but tasted like soap. Papaya. Great. My first exotic fruit experience and I'd rather be eating literally anything else.

"You okay?"

Maya appeared beside me, dripping wet from the pool, her hair plastered to her face in that way that still looked perfect somehow. I felt my face heat up. I'd been crushing on her since seventh grade, and here I was, standing awkwardly with papaya juice on my chin while the baseball players did cannonballs into the water.

"Yeah, just tired," I managed, which was the understatement of the century. "School stuff."

"Same." She leaned against the table next to me. "I feel like I've been running on fumes all week. But at least we're done, right?"

Our hands brushed as she reached for a drink, and I swear time literally stopped. My heart was doing something embarrassing and fast.

Jason yelled her name from the pool. She glanced over, then back at me, and instead of walking away, she stayed.

"Want to go for a walk?" she asked. "Somewhere not here?"

We ended up walking around the block three times, talking about everything and nothing, while the pool party raged without us. The zombie feeling had completely vanished. I didn't even care about the papaya aftertaste anymore.

Sometimes the best moments happen when you're too exhausted to overthink them.