Zombie State of Mind

I was basically a walking zombie during finals week. Three hours of sleep, five energy drinks, and zero patience for anyone who wasn't carrying food. Which meant my golden retriever, Max, was literally the only living creature I could tolerate.

"You look like actual death," my best friend Chloe announced as I shuffled into the pool party like I was navigating a minefield. "Fixing to haunt this gathering?"

"Shut up," I mumbled, clutching my red solo cup like it was a lifeline. The chlorinated water glimmered under string lights, and already half our grade was swimming in the shallow end, pretending they weren't checking each other out.

The real problem wasn't the FOMO though. It was HIM. Jake Rodriguez, who'd sat behind me in bio since freshman year, who I'd finally worked up the nerve to snapchat last weekend, was standing by the palm tree looking stupidly hot in his swim trunks.

I'd been making conversation about everything except his ridiculous tropical shirt. Suddenly, his face did this weird cringe thing.

"You've got—" He gestured at his own teeth, grimacing.

My stomach dropped. I flashed what I hoped was a casual smile and speed-walked to the bathroom, where the fluorescent mirror revealed not one but THREE massive pieces of spinach wedged between my front teeth.

I wanted to die. Actually die. Cease to exist.

Instead, I heard someone knock on the door.

"You good in there?" Jake's voice floated through the wood.

I opened the door, prepared to be roasted into oblivion. But he just leaned against the doorframe, smiling that stupid perfect smile.

"My mom's obsessed with health food," he said. "I have spinach in my teeth, like, constantly. It's a whole thing."

"You're literally just being nice."

"I'm literally not." He gestured toward Max, who was wagging his entire butt by the snack table. "Besides, your dog seems to think you're cool."

Maybe being a zombie wasn't the worst thing. Sometimes you get the boy. Sometimes the spinach gets stuck. And sometimes your best friend takes seventeen pictures for blackmail later.

"So," Jake said, "wanna jump in the pool? The water's actually decent."

I grinned, spinach-free and finally, finally awake. "Race you there."