Zombies at the Net

Maya dragged herself through third period, brain officially fried. Three hours of sleep thanks to that history paper due at midnight. She was basically operating on autopilot—a total zombie shuffling between classes.

"You coming to Jordan's tonight?" Chloe whispered, sliding into the desk beside her. "His parents are out. Whole crew's gonna be there."

Maya perked up slightly. Jordan's house parties were legendary. "Wait, isn't that the padel tournament thing?"

"Oh my god, YES." Chloe's eyes widened. "Everyone's doing this zombie-themed padel tournament at midnight. It's gonna be chaos."

Maya had never played padel in her life, but she nodded like she'd been training for years. Because that's what you did when you were trying to climb the social pyramid at Northwood High. You said yes to everything, even if "everything" involved running around a court in the middle of the night with a racquet you barely knew how to hold.

By 11 PM, Jordan's backyard had transformed. Someone had set up those weird padel courts with the glass walls, and about thirty kids were decked out in zombie makeup—blood streaks, pale foundation, the works. The vibe was equal parts terrifying and hilarious.

"You're on my team, new girl," Jordan said, appearing beside Maya with a racquet. His signature smirk was in full effect. "Don't embarrass me."

No pressure or anything.

The game was actually kind of awesome once Maya got the hang of it. The ball ricocheted off the walls, and every time someone scored, their opponents had to act like zombies—arms out, groaning, limping around until the next point. The whole thing devolved into everyone shambling around the court like the undead, cracking up at how ridiculous they all looked.

At some point, Maya realized she wasn't thinking about her GPA or college apps or how she'd transferred to Northwood two months ago and still felt like an outsider. She was just laughing, her ponytail messy, fake blood smeared across her forehead, playing this weird game with people who were slowly becoming actual friends.

"Not bad, new girl," Jordan said afterward as they sat on the grass, breathless.

"It's Maya," she said, surprising herself.

"Maya," he repeated. "Same time next week?"

She grinned. "Only if you're ready to lose."