Zombie Mode, Bear Heart

The 7:00 alarm hit different when you'd been doomscrolling your crush's Instagram until 3 AM. Classic zombie mode—eyes glazed, brain foggy, stumbling through first period like the walking dead.

Maya caught me "spying" on Jake's story during lunch. "You're down bad, aren't you?"

"Shut up," I muttered, but my face burned hotter than the cafeteria pizza.

Wednesday meant padel at the community center. Me, Maya, and a couple of JV basketball guys who thought they were pros. Jake was there too, laughing with his friends near Court 3. His jersey barely fit those shoulders anymore—high school growth sprek hitting different.

I served the ball straight into the net. Classic.

"You good?" Jake asked, wandering over.

My brain short-circuited. This close, I could see the freckles across his nose.

"Yeah. Just. Tired. You know how it is."

He nodded. Same. All these honors classes are killing me. I feel like I'm barely holding it together sometimes."

For once, he wasn't the effortlessly popular kid. Just another tired teen drowning in expectations.

The giant bear mascot outside the gym windows caught my eye—our school's ridiculous grizzly, mid-dance move on a poster. Coach said our team needed more "grizzly energy" at games. Whatever that meant.

"Hey," Jake said, running a hand through his hair. "You going to the game Friday?"

"Probably."

"Cool. Maybe... save me a seat?"

My stomach did that thing where it forgets how to organ. "Yeah. Yeah, totally."

He walked back to his friends, and Maya nearly dropped her racquet.

"Did that just happen?"

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. But inside? Definitely not zombie mode anymore. Fully awake, fully panicked, fully feeling everything.

Being brave was scary as hell. But sometimes the scariest moments are the ones that actually matter.