Zombies Don't Wear Orange

Maya stood in the corner of Jason's basement, clutching a red plastic cup like it was a lifeline. The music thumped against her ribs, but she felt dead inside. Three hours of sleep and two energy drinks will do that to you — turn you into a certified zombie by 7 PM on a Friday.

She tugged self-consciously at her oversized orange hoodie. Why had she worn it? It practically screamed "notice me" when all she wanted was to disappear. The color reminded her of construction signs and traffic cones — things designed to be seen.

"That's bull."

The voice came from beside her. Maya turned to see Devon, the cute lacrosse player who sat behind her in pre-calc, leaning against the wall with his own cup.

"What?" she managed.

"You standing here acting like you're having the worst time ever," Devon said, grinning. "I saw you earlier. You were laughing with Sarah by the snacks."

Maya felt her face heat up. "I'm just... tired. Zombie mode."

"Same." Devon gestured to his own eyes. "I've been running on fumes since finals week started." He held up his cup. "This is my third orange soda. I'm vibrating on a molecular level."

She laughed despite herself. "That explains a lot."

"What?" Devon raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing. Just... I always thought you were, you know, one of those people who has it together. Like, actually alive."

"Maya." His tone softened. "We're all faking it. Every single one of us." He nodded toward the popular crowd dancing in the center of the room. "Even them."

She followed his gaze. "You think?"

"I know. I heard Jessica crying in the bathroom earlier because she thinks everyone secretly hates her." Devon's expression turned serious. "The real zombies aren't the ones with bags under their eyes. It's the ones walking around pretending everything's perfect when they're dying inside."

Something in Maya's chest loosened. "So... you're saying I should wear my orange hoodie loud and proud?"

Devon chuckled. "I'm saying you should dance. Unless you're gonna stand there and tell me you don't want to. But that would be bull." He held out his hand. "Come on. I promise not to step on your feet more than twice."

Maya looked at his hand, then at her hideous orange sleeves, and for the first time all night, she didn't feel like disappearing. She took his hand.

"Deal. But if you make fun of my hoodie, you're dead."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Zombie Girl." He winked. "It's growing on me. Like an infection."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as he pulled her toward the music.