Zombies at the Pool Party

Maya's palms were sweating so much she could practically fill a pool. Which was ironic, considering she was literally standing next to one.

"You good?" Marcus asked, grinning that annoyingly perfect grin that made half the sophomore class weak in the knees.

"Totally," Maya lied, adjusting her bikini top for the seventeenth time. "Just enjoying this... social gathering."

The Miller twins' annual end-of-school pool party was legendary. Half the grade was here, splashing around or pretending not to stare at each other. The older kids had claimed the deep end like some sort of territorial shark division. Meanwhile, Maya and her fellow freshmen clung to the shallow end like nervous tropical fish.

The bet—originally ten bucks, now up to forty-seven—had been simple: talk to your crush before summer officially started. Sasha and Jen were already out, having successfully mumbled something at their respective crushes earlier that week. Now it was Maya's turn, and she was approximately zero percent prepared.

A gray tabby cat—neighbors' cat, she thought, maybe named Pickles or something—appeared on the fence, watching them with judgment in its yellow eyes. That cat had more confidence than her entire friend group combined.

Marcus was still waiting. Because he'd asked her a question. Right.

"I said, are you gonna swim?" He splashed water at her, completely casual.

"Maybe later," Maya squeaked. "I'm more of a... observe from the perimeter type."

"You're missing out." He gestured toward the deeper water. "Jake and Emma started a zombie movie marathon in the basement. Actual zombies upstairs, swimming zombies out here. You choose."

Zombies. Movie references. Things she could actually talk about without her throat closing up.

"Which movie?" she asked, slightly too loud. "Because if we're talking original Dawn of the Dead versus the 2004 remake, I have VERY strong opinions."

Marcus's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you're into zombie movies?"

"Used to watch them with my older brother," she said, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded. "I have extensive thoughts on zombie apocalypse survival strategies. Not gonna brag, but I'd definitely make it to season three."

His smile widened, genuine now. "Okay, that's actually cool. We're starting with Shaun of the Dead if you wanna—"

"MAYA," Sasha stage-whispered from behind a stack of pool noodles, frantically pointing at her own palm and then at Marcus. The universal signal for MAKE YOUR MOVE ALREADY.

Maya ignored her. "I'd love to. But first." She took a breath. "You wanna hang out sometime? Without, like, fifty other people around?"

Marcus paused for exactly three seconds. "Yeah. Absolutely."

Sasha appeared beside her, victoriously pumping her fist. "PAY UP, EVERYONE."

Maya's palms weren't sweating anymore. Sometimes, terrifyingly enough, things actually worked out.