Zombie Mode Protocol

Maya sat cross-legged on her bed, watching Jay grind through the same zombie level for the third time. He kept dying at the same spawn point, resetting with this obsessive focus that wasn't like him at all.

"You're missing the pattern," she said, already bored. "Third zombie from the left always drops a health pack."

Jay didn't respond. He'd been weird all week—since Jordan started spreading those rumors about the history test. Maya knew something was up, but Jay was pulling the classic I'm fine routine, and honestly? She was tired of it.

"You've been in zombie mode since Monday," she said, setting her phone down. "What's actually going on?"

"Nothing. I'm good."

"That's such bull." Maya rolled her eyes so hard it actually hurt. "You've barely said ten words to me all week, and now you're over here acting like a stranger. What's up with Jordan?"

Jay paused the game. The screen froze with zombies mid-lurch, all gray and green. "He's telling everyone I cheated on that test. Like, literally everyone."

Maya's stomach dropped. Jordan had been Jay's best friend since middle school—the kind who'd sleep over, eat all their snacks, claim they hated indie bands but secretly listen to them in their room.

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know." Jay picked at a loose thread on his orange hoodie. "Maybe because I got a better grade? Maybe because his parents are getting divorced and he's taking it out on everyone? Who knows."

Maya scooted closer to the edge of the bed. "You want me to talk to him?"

"I want it to not matter." Jay's voice cracked. "But it does. I catch people looking at me in halls like I'm some cheater, like I'm not worth their time. It's exhausting."

The sunset spilled orange across Jay's floorboards, catching dust motes in the air. Maya thought about how fragile friendships were—how one person's insecurity could wreck everything in seconds.

"Jordan's projecting his garbage onto you," she said. "That's not on you. But you ghosting me? That's on you."

Jay looked up, eyes wide. "I didn't mean to—"

"I know." Maya stood up. "But you don't get to disappear and expect me to just be here when you decide to come back. Friendships aren't zombie games you can pause whenever."

She walked to the door. "I'm grabbing my charging cable from downstairs. When I come back, we're either talking about this or I'm destroying you in Mario Kart. Your call."

Jay smiled, just barely. "Mario Kart. Definitely Mario Kart."

"You're on, loser."

Maya paused at the threshold. "Oh, and Jay? You're not a zombie. You're just going through it. There's a difference."

Behind her, the game started up again—zombies groaning, plasma rifles firing. Background noise that was somehow the most comforting sound she'd heard all week.

Friends go through rough patches. People say dumb stuff when they're hurting. But Maya knew they'd figure it out—probably after she absolutely crushed him in Mario Kart, obviously.