Zombie Mode Offline

My palms were sweating, which was gross but also kind of perfect because I was basically a zombie anyway. Three days of AP prep will do that to you—turn your brain into mush and your nervous system into a glitchy mess.

"You coming to padel today?" Leo asked, already knowing the answer. He'd been asking all week, and I'd been ducking him like a coward.

"Can't. Stats review." Even I didn't believe me anymore.

"Bro, you're missing it. Chloe's bringing her cousin."

That stopped me. Chloe's cousin was Jasmine, and Jasmine was the reason my palms currently felt like they'd been held under a faucet. I'd been what you might call low-key spying on her Instagram stories for two weeks, which sounds creepy when I say it out loud but honestly everyone does that, right?

I shoved my calculator in my backpack. "Actually, yeah. I'll go."

The padel courts were basically a religious experience—glass walls, blue court, the sound of the ball ricocheting like chaos. And there she was, leaning against the fence in that oversized hoodie that made everything look unintentional.

My zombie brain short-circuited. I'd been running from this moment all week.

"You Mateo?" She smiled. "Chloe said you're good at this."

"I'm okay." My voice cracked. Classic.

We played—me and Jasmine versus Leo and Chloe—and I forgot about everything. The APs, the college essays, the constant pressure to be perfect. For an hour, I wasn't running toward or away from anything. I was just there, sweating through my shirt, laughing when I missed an easy shot, feeling something shift inside me like tectonic plates.

Afterward, Jasmine wiped her palm on her shorts and looked at me. "Same time next week?"

"Yeah," I said. "Same time."

Walking home, I realized I hadn't checked my phone in three hours. The zombie was still there, dormant and waiting for Monday's stress to wake it up again. But for the first time in forever, I felt like I could actually live in my own skin.