Zombies at Home Plate

The concession stand smelled like fake butter and desperation. Exactly how seventeen-year-old Maya felt on most Friday nights. She was working the register at the baseball stadium, wearing an embarrassingly bright ORANGE polyester vest that made her look like a traffic cone. Meanwhile, half her school was in the stands, living their best lives.

"Yo, May!" Jake from AP Chem leaned over the counter. His hair was perfect, obviously. "You coming to the Zombie Night after-party?"

Maya's brain short-circuited. ZOMBIE Night? The team was doing a themed promotion—something about fans dressing like the undead to "eat the competition." Jake was inviting HER?

"Maybe?" She managed, her voice cracking. Great. Smooth as sandpaper.

The game dragged on. Innings crawled. Maya felt like a ZOMBIE herself, already dead inside from three hours of standing and smiling at people who didn't see her. Then: chaos.

A DOG—a golden retriever, obviously a good boy—bounded onto the field. Players froze. The crowd went wild. The dog grabbed a baseball and took off.

"That's Copper," Jake said, suddenly beside her. "He's my neighbor's dog. Escapes every game."

Before Maya could process, Jake vaulted the counter. "Come on!"

They sprinted after the DOG together, past confused vendors, through the stadium tunnels, out into the parking lot where the sun was setting everything brilliant ORANGE and gold. They cornered Copper near a dumpster.

Jake collapsed laughing, baseball in hand. Copper sat, tail thumping, ridiculously pleased with himself.

Maya's heart hammered. Not from running. From Jake looking at her like she was part of something. Something real.

"We're gonna miss the party," Jake said, breathless. "Wanna get tacos instead? Just us?"

The ORANGE light caught his smile. Maya thought about ZOMBIE Night, about the expectations, about pretending to be something she wasn't.

"Yes," she said. "A thousand times yes."

Copper barked. Maya's vest was still ugly, her hair was a mess, and she was probably going to get fired for leaving her post. But somehow, for the first time in forever, she didn't feel dead at all.