Zombie Summer

Riley dragged herself to the community pool at 5:45 AM, feeling like a straight-up **zombie**. Three weeks into summer break, and she was already drowning in exhaustion. The early morning lifeguard shifts seemed like a brilliant idea when she signed up—money for college, tan lines, and looking cool in the red one-piece. Reality hit different when her alarm blared before the sun even thought about rising.

The **water** was still, glass-flat and eerily perfect in the dawn light. Riley slid into the guard chair, feet dangling over the edge. Her phone buzzed in her bag—Jordan, again.

"Pyramid scheme meeting tonight!" his text read. "You in? This guy's making bank."

Jordan had fallen for some crypto-MLM nonsense, convinced he'd be driving a Lamborghini by senior year. Riley had tried to explain how these worked—how you needed to recruit people who recruited people who recruited people, building a sketchy **pyramid** of desperate teens trying to get rich quick.

But Jordan was sold on the dream. And honestly? Riley was tempted. College applications loomed like a storm cloud, her parents' divorce papers sat unsigned on the kitchen counter, and she was tired. So tired.

The first swimmer arrived at 6:02—Mrs. Chen, doing her morning laps. Riley watched her slice through the water, graceful and focused. Something about it clicked.

By 7:30, the pool buzzed with early risers. Kids from school showed up in ones, lifeguards rotated in, and suddenly Riley wasn't a zombie anymore. She was HERE. Present. Watching. The **water** rippled with movement, chaos, life.

"Hey, Riley." Emily slid into the chair next to her. "Jordan's still bugging you about that thing?"

Riley nodded, then shook her head. "Nah. I'm good."

She watched Mrs. Chen complete another perfect lap. Thought about pyramids—how they looked stable from the outside but were actually tombs built on someone else's ambition. Thought about being a zombie—walking through life half-alive, letting someone else script your moves.

Riley stood up, grabbed her whistle, and felt her shoulders drop for the first time all summer. The sun broke over the horizon, golden and real. She was exhausted, sure. But she was awake.

She texted Jordan back: "Pass. But I'll take that large iced coffee you owe me."

Some things were worth staying up for. Everything else could wait.