Zombie Mode & Goldfish Tears

Maya felt like a zombie. Three hours of sleep plus infinite scrolling through her Instagram feed would do that to a person. She'd spent the entire week overanalyzing every text from Jake, every comment, every subtle shift in his social media presence. Now here she was at Sarah's party, nursing lukewarm punch in a red solo cup, feeling absolutely dead inside.

"You look like you're in zombie mode," a voice said.

Maya jumped. It was Leo—the quiet guy from AP English who sat in the back and always wore those beat-up Converse. He gestured to her iphone, which she'd been clutching like a lifeline.

"Yeah," Maya admitted, sliding it into her pocket. "Just... social battery completely drained."

"Same." Leo nodded toward a glass bowl on the kitchen counter. "I'm currently on goldfish duty. Sarah's mom got them for the party decoration. They're supposed to be centerpieces, but I keep worrying they're gonna die."

Maya laughed—an actual genuine laugh, not the fake one she'd been using all night. "That's random."

"Is it?" Leo studied her. "Everyone's acting like they're having the time of their lives, but really we're all just... swimming in circles, waiting for someone to feed us."

Something about his honesty cracked Maya open. "That's deep for a guy watching goldfish at a high school party."

"I have my moments." His phone buzzed. He didn't check it. "You know, my therapist says social media gives us FOMO because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else's highlight reel. I've been trying to be more... present."

Maya looked at him—really looked at him. Leo wasn't trying to impress anyone. He wasn't performing for an audience. And suddenly her iphone felt heavy in her pocket, like an anchor dragging her down.

"Wanna get some air?" she asked.

They ended up on Sarah's back porch, talking about everything and nothing—his anxiety about college applications, her fear that she had no personality beyond her carefully curated aesthetic, how tired they both were of trying to be cool.

"I'm glad I talked to you tonight," Leo said as Maya's mom pulled into the driveway.

"Me too," Maya realized. And she meant it.

Later that night, Maya deleted Instagram from her phone. Some zombies were ready to wake up.