Zombie on the Court

Maya walked into the cafeteria feeling like a total zombie. Three hours of sleep would do that to you — thanks to that English paper she'd procrastinated on until 2 AM. Her iphone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. Probably just another group chat blowing up about something that could wait until her brain actually functioned.

"You look like death," said Jordan, sliding into the seat across from her. "Big padel tournament today. You're not gonna bail, right?"

Maya poked at the spinach on her tray. "No way. I've been practicing my serve for weeks. Liam's gonna be there watching, and I'm not embarrassing myself in front of him again."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Still crushing on Liam? That's bold after what happened last time."

"Shut up," Maya groaned. "That was different. I was having a bad day."

"You walked into a wall. In front of everyone."

"It was a zombie moment! I hadn't slept!"

The bell rang before Jordan could respond. As they gathered their trays, someone mentioned that sophomore Tyler — who Maya had accidently ghosted last week when he asked her to homecoming — was telling people she was being full of bull about being too busy to hang out.

"He said WHAT?" Maya's face burned. "I literally have padel practice every day this week!"

"He thinks you're blowing him off," Jordan said. "Look, just handle it after the tournament. Focus on not face-planting today."

By 4 PM, the court was packed. Maya's heart raced as she stepped up to the serve line. Her phone was locked in her bag — no distractions. No zombie brain fog. Just her, the racket, and the game she actually loved.

Liam was indeed watching from the sidelines. Even Tyler was there, looking determined not to make eye contact.

Maya served. The ball arced perfectly, hitting the corner. Game point.

After winning the match, breathless and sweating, Maya found Tyler by the bleachers.

"Hey," she said. "Sorry about ghosting you. I really have been crazy busy with practice. But... I'm not busy this Friday?"

Tyler's shoulders relaxed. "Friday works."

Sometimes being a teenage zombie meant making mistakes. Sometimes it meant fixing them. And sometimes — just sometimes — you got the serve, the guy, and the win all in the same day.