Zombie State Bull Rider

I looked like a straight-up zombie. Finals week had turned me into something that shambled instead of walked, my eyes doing that weird twitchy thing from three nights of what my mom called 'academic self-destruction' and I called 'trying not to fail pre-calc.'

Then Maya texted: Pool party. 7pm. Brandon's house. You coming?

Brandon. The guy I'd been lowkey crushing on since September, who I'd successfully spoken to exactly zero times. This was my chance. I slathered on SPF 50 because I wasn't trying to turn into lobster girl, threw on my best bikini (the one that didn't make me feel like a fraud), and forced myself out the door.

The papaya incident happened almost immediately. Someone's older sister had brought this 'exotic fruit platter' as a joke, and there I was—trying to look chill and adventurous in front of everyone—plopping this slimy orange chunk into my mouth. It tasted like someone had made a fruit out of feet.

'So, you like it?' Brandon appeared beside me, looking annoyingly perfect.

'It's... an experience,' I managed, trying not to gag while simultaneously trying to look like a sophisticated food critic who appreciated complex flavor profiles. He laughed, and my stomach did that embarrassing flip thing.

Then the truth or dare started. Because apparently we were all secretly twelve.

'Brandon, truth or dare?' Chloe screamed, definitely buzzed on whatever her older sister had left out.

'Dare.' His eyes flicked to mine.

'I dare you to kiss the person you've been thinking about all year.'

The room went dead silent. This was it. The moment I'd been daydreaming about during boring lectures and car rides home. I felt like I was riding a bull, my heart hammering against my ribs, my hands shaking, my entire future about to be decided in three seconds—and then he kissed Chloe.

The ride was over. I'd been thrown.

I grabbed my stuff and bailed, calling my mom at 11:30 PM like a literal child, asking for a ride. She took one look at my face when she picked me up—said nothing, just drove. The next morning, she appeared in my doorway with a glass of orange juice and literally eight vitamin supplements.

'You look like death,' she said. 'Also, boys are dumb. These have vitamin D. You need sunlight.'

I took them all, even the ones that looked like horse pills. Because maybe she was right. Maybe I'd been treating high school like it was the main character movie of my life, when really I was just a side character learning how to be okay with that. Maya texted later: Brandon and Chloe lasted 47 minutes. Also, you looked really pretty last night.

I didn't get the guy. But I got a best friend who reminded me I was worth more than being someone's second choice. And honestly? That felt like the real victory.