Zombie State of Mind

Maya walked into third period AP Chem feeling like a straight-up zombie. Three hours of sleep after finishing that scholarship application would do that to you. She slumped into her seat, brain foggy as hell, barely processing Mr. Harrison's voice droning about ionic bonds.

"You okay?" whispered Jake from the next desk over. "You look, uh... not alive."

"Rough night," Maya mumbled. " scholarship essays don't write themselves."

School had become this endless grind of AP classes, extracurriculars, and "building your profile" for colleges. Maya was so burnt she couldn't remember the last time she'd done something just for fun. Even her pet goldfish, Bubbles, seemed judging as it swam endless circles in its tiny bowl.

"padel tournament at the rec center this Saturday," Jake said, sliding her a flyer. "My partner bailed. You should come."

Maya almost laughed it off. Then she saw something in Jake's expression—this hopeful, genuine thing that made her pause.

"Why me?"

"You're actually good at sports," he said. "And you need a break. Like, badly."

He wasn't wrong. That Saturday, Maya showed up at the rec center, racket in hand, nervous as hell. But the second they started playing, something clicked. The rhythm of the game, the way she and Jake moved together without even speaking—it felt natural. She sank a shot down the line, and Jake practically lost it.

"That was FIRE!" he shouted.

For two hours, Maya wasn't a zombie student drowning in expectations. She was just a teenager playing padel, laughing when they missed easy shots, celebrating the good ones. Afterward, they sat on the bench, sweaty and exhausted but actually happy for the first time in months.

"We should do this again," Jake said. "Like, regularly."

Maya nodded, something loosening in her chest. "Yeah. We should."

Later that night, she fed Bubbles and watched it swim, realizing she'd been the goldfish in her own life—stuck in a bowl, going in circles, while the world kept spinning without her. Not anymore. She pulled out her phone and texted Jake: same time next week?

Maybe she couldn't quit school or fix everything overnight. But she could carve out moments that made her feel alive again. And honestly? That was enough.