Zombie State of Mind

I was basically a zombie by third period. Three hours of sleep will do that to you — that, and spending all night rewriting an English essay because my inner monologue wouldn't shut up about how much it sucked.

"You look dead," Maya said, sliding into the seat beside me. "Like, actually deceased."

"Thanks, bestie. Really feeling the love." I slumped onto my desk, my cheek hitting the cool laminate. "I think I can feel my brain liquefying. It's chill."

Maya laughed, but her eyes did that scanning thing they always do — checking my face for signs of whatever crisis I was currently having. She knew I'd been spiraling since homecoming, since I'd spent three weeks building up the courage to ask Jordan to dance, only to freeze completely when I finally tried. My palms were so sweaty I nearly dropped my phone. Twice.

"Jordan's having people over tonight," she said casually. Too casually. "You should come."

I snorted into my sleeve. "Hard pass. I'll be busy reenacting the tragic downfall of my social life from the safety of my bed."

"You're being dramatic."

"I'm being REALISTIC, Maya. I literally forgot how to speak English last time. What am I supposed to do, show up and stand in a corner like a creep?"

The first rumble of thunder cut through her response.

"So don't stand in a corner," she said. "Play games. Talk to people who aren't Jordan. Hell, talk to Jordan. Just, like — exist somewhere besides your own head for once."

I opened my mouth to argue, but lightning flashed through the classroom windows — this blinding, violet-white crack that made everyone jump. The power died. Screens went black. Someone shrieked. And in that split second of confusion, Maya grabbed my hand.

"You're coming," she whispered. "Non-negotiable. I'll literally drag you there if I have to."

Something in her voice stopped me. Not the fake-casual thing from before. Something real.

"You doing okay?" I asked, finally really looking at her.

She hesitated. "Could ask you the same thing."

"I'm surviving."

"Yeah." Her thumb rubbed circles on my palm. "Me too. But surviving's not the same as living, you know?"

The lights flickered back on. Mr. Henderson cleared his throat, looking grumpy about his disrupted lecture. But something had shifted.

"Fine," I said, already dreading it. "I'll go. But if I die of social awkwardness, I'm haunting you forever."

Maya's smile was sudden and bright and exactly what I needed.

"Deal. Now, zombie up, bestie — we've got chemistry next, and I cannot deal with moles alone."