Zombies at the Deep End

I stood at the edge of the pool, clutching my towel like a lifeline. Jordan's annual summer bash. Everyone who was anyone would be here. And me, apparently, thanks to my older sister dropping me off with a "socialize, Maya" and a peace sign.

My palms were sweating. Literally. I kept wiping them on my shorts, leaving dark streaks that I prayed nobody noticed. "You good?" a voice asked.

I jumped. Marcus, the guy from my English class who always drew zombie comics in the margins of his assignments. He held a red solo cup, smiling like he actually wanted an answer.

"Just... acclimating," I managed. "Not exactly a pool person."

"Me neither," he said, leaning against the fence. "I'm more of a 'sit inside and watch zombie apocalypse documentaries' person. Which is funny, because I spend half my life feeling like one anyway."

I laughed before I could stop myself. "Same. School's basically just shuffling through halls, brains optional."

"Exactly." His eyes lit up. "Hey, you want to get out of here? There's food inside that doesn't require being half-naked in front of half the sophomore class."

"Yes. A thousand times yes."

We ended up on Jordan's back porch, sharing a bag of chips he'd snagged. I was mid-sentence about my useless history teacher when his expression shifted.

"You've got—" He gestured to his own teeth.

My heart stopped. "What?"

"Spinach," he said. "From the dip. It's... kinda stuck there."

I wanted to die. Actually die. "How long?"

"Since we sat down. I didn't want to say anything and make it weird, but—"

"But you had to," I groaned, covering my face. "Oh my god. This is it. My social life is over before it started."

"Or," Marcus said, "you could just wipe it off and we could pretend this conversation never happened."

I peeked through my fingers. He was grinning.

"Or," I countered, wiping my teeth with a napkin, "I could own it. It's character-building. Humility. All that stuff."

"Totally." He raised his cup. "To spinach and survival."

"To zombies everywhere," I clinked my cup against his.

And for the first time all summer, I didn't want to leave.