Zombie State of Mind

I was in full zombie mode—running on three hours of sleep and pure stress vibes—when everything went sideways at lunch. I'd spent half the night overthinking my conversation with Maya, which now seemed absolutely tragic in the harsh light of the cafeteria.

"Dude, you look like actual death," Liam said, sliding into the seat across from me. "You good?"

I shrugged, staring at my untouched sandwich. Maya, the fox who'd been hijacking my thoughts since freshman orientation, sat three tables away. She was everything I wasn't: confident, sharp, actually had her life together. Meanwhile, I was just some guy on the baseball team who'd batted .200 last season and existed primarily as the friend who made decent nachos.

"My dog kept me up all night," I lied. Buster, my golden retriever, had actually slept like a baby, but admitting I'd spent the night spiraling about a girl felt pathetic. "Strange noises outside. He was barking at literally nothing."

Liam snorted. "Classic. Anyway, you coming to the game today? Coach says if we don't start winning, he's making us run laps until we actually die."

"Wouldn't miss it," I said, though my stomach twisted at the thought. Baseball had never been my thing—I'd only joined because my dad pushed it and because it was supposedly what guys like me were supposed to do. Lately, though, everything felt fake. The games. The practices. The version of myself I presented to the world like a carefully curated social media post.

But then I saw Maya stand up from her table, grab her tray, and—against all laws of the high school universe—start walking toward me. My brain short-circuited. This wasn't supposed to happen. Foxes like Maya didn't interact with zombies like me.

"Hey," she said, stopping at our table. "You're Marcus, right?"

I nodded, unable to form actual words. This was it. The moment my life became either amazing or absolutely tragic.

"I heard you play baseball," she continued. "My brother's on the rival team. Just thought you should know—he thinks you've got a solid swing. Says you're one to watch."

Then she smiled, grabbed her backpack from where she'd left it, and walked away like she hadn't just completely shifted my universe.

Liam was gaping at me. "Did that actually happen? Or did I fall asleep in math again?"

"That happened," I said, something unfamiliar blooming in my chest. Maybe baseball wasn't just something I did because I was supposed to. Maybe—just maybe—I was actually good at it. And maybe, just maybe, zombies could wake up after all.