Zombies at Skylar's House Party

I felt like a zombie. Not the cool Netflix kind with flawless smoky eye makeup and strategic face wounds—more like the actual undead version: pale, hollowed out, running on two hours of sleep and three iced coffees. Junior year was eating me alive.

"You good, Maya?" Skylar asked, handing me a red Solo cup. Her basement was already packed, bodies moving like a single organism to bass that vibrated in my chest.

"Yeah," I lied. "Just tired."

"Total **bull**," someone said behind me. I turned to see Marcus, varsity jacket, easy grin, the kind of guy who existed on a different plane of existence than mere mortals. "You've been 'just tired' since October. What's actually up?"

I stared at him. Marcus *noticed* me?

Before I could answer, a crash echoed from upstairs. The music cut. Someone screamed—then laughed nervously. Skylar's older brother tumbled down the stairs, faceplanting spectacularly at the bottom.

"Alright, everyone out," he slurred. "Party's over. My bad."

The exodus was chaotic. I ended up outside in Skylar's backyard with Marcus and three others I barely knew, sitting in a circle on the cold grass. The November air bit at my bare arms.

"Truth or dare?" someone suggested.

An hour later, we knew everything about each other. Marcus cried once when his dog died. Jenna had a secret Tumblr writing fanfic. I admitted I'd been taking college classes at community college because regular school felt pointless and no, my parents didn't know.

"That's actually kind of badass," Marcus said quietly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like, you're out here doing your thing while the rest of us are just..." He gestured vaguely at nothing. "Existing."

Then we heard it—heavy breathing, twigs snapping. Something massive moved beyond the treeline.

"**Bear**," Marcus whispered, grabbing my arm. "My neighbor saw one last week."

We froze. Five teenagers, collectively holding our breath, as a shadow emerged from the darkness. A massive shape, lumbering closer...

A Golden Retriever trotted into the yard, tail wagging, carrying someone's discarded shoe in its mouth.

We erupted into laughter—the kind that doubles you over, leaves you gasping, realigns something fundamental in your chest. I hadn't laughed like that in months.

"That was your bear?" I nudged Marcus.

"Shut up," he grinned back.

Skylar came outside as her parents' car pulled into the driveway. "You guys need to bounce. Like, now."

We scattered. Marcus caught my elbow before I could slip away. "Hey. You doing anything tomorrow?"

"Study group at the library. You?"

"Now I am."

I walked home under streetlights that suddenly seemed brighter, feeling something shift inside me—maybe not alive again, exactly, but definitely less dead. The zombie metaphor was getting old anyway. Maybe it was time for something new.