Zombie State of Mind

Maya dragged herself into third period feeling like a total zombie. Three nights of staying up until 3 AM binge-watching that new show will do that to you. Her hair was attempting half a messy bun, half existential crisis.

"You look rough," whispered Jordan from the seat beside her, spinning a baseball between his fingers. Coach Hayes had given the whole team the day off from practice, but Jordan still carried one everywhere like a security blanket.

"Rough is an understatement," Maya yawned. "I'm operating on, like, negative brain cells."

Jordan's cat theory—that felines were secretly aliens observing human behavior—had been their inside joke since seventh grade. "If you were a cat," he said, "you'd definitely be the orange tabby who knocks things off shelves just to watch them break."

"Wow, thanks."

But the real drama wasn't her sleep deprivation. It was what happened at lunch. Alex—the new junior who'd been giving her heart eyes all week—had finally approached her table. Maya had been so nervous she'd accidentally knocked over her tray, sending spaghetti everywhere. Alex had laughed (charmingly, thank god) and helped her clean it up, but she'd wanted to disappear.

"So what's the deal with you and Alex?" Jordan asked, still spinning that stupid baseball. "You've been low-key obsessing since they got here."

"I don't know!" Maya groaned, letting her head hit the desk. "They're like... this fox who's way out of my league. Alex is all mysterious and cool and I'm over here literally being a zombie."

"You're not a zombie," Jordan said, actually serious for once. "You're Maya. The girl who—" he gestured vaguely "—you know, does stuff. And things."

"Wow, so eloquent."

"My point," Jordan rolled his eyes, "is that Alex was totally smiling at your spaghetti disaster. Like, actually smiling. I think that's a good sign?"

Maya lifted her head slightly. "You think?"

"I know," he nodded with that confidence only teenage boys seem to possess. "Nobody smiles at spaghetti on the floor unless they're interested. That's, like, basic human behavior."

The bell rang. Maya gathered her stuff, feeling slightly less zombie-ish. Maybe tomorrow she'd actually sleep. And maybe—just maybe—she'd text Alex first.

"Hey," Jordan called after her. "Don't overthink it. Just be you. Not the cat who breaks things, but the you who—"

"Who accidentally creates chaos?" Maya laughed.

"Exactly. It's your brand."

She walked out smiling. Maybe being a chaotic mess wasn't the worst thing in the world.