““David tears a chocolate chip cookie in half. “Want some?” He holds a piece out to me. The chocolate glistens, and the brown-buttery inside looks like it will be chewy, which is how I like my cookies. I can’t think of a single reason to refuse. So I reach for it. “Thanks.” We chew together for a companionable moment. “That was really good,” I say after I’ve swallowed. “I know.” He balls up the wrap it came in. “It was a pretty big sacrifice on my part to give you half. I’m already regretting it.” “I’ll make it up to you someday, somehow. This, I swear.” “How about giving me your firstborn child?” “Okay, but when climate change has destroyed life as we know it and we’re all fighting to survive, you can’t favor your natural children over my poor little loaner.” He laughs, and I notice a couple of other kids turning to look at us. I guess the sound of David Fields laughing is unfamiliar enough to draw attention. His laugh is unexpectedly warm—I’ve heard it a few times now, but its richness still surprises me. “Someone’s been reading too much dystopian fiction,” he says. “Yeah, don’t get me started on the zombie apocalypse.” “What’s to get started on? All you need is an axe and you’re good.” “You need some chain too.” “For what?” I roll my eyes. “To chain up your loved ones when they get bitten. Duh.” “Why even bother fighting? Why not just give in and all become zombies? Nothing would change—most of the kids here would already tear out each other’s flesh if it meant they had a better chance of getting into Stanford.” “Yeah, but their parents would never let them eat any old brains—they’d have to be organic.””
