Bearing It All

Maya's first day at Northwood High could've gone better. Actually, scratch that—it went exactly as catastrophically as her anxious brain had predicted at 3 AM.

She'd spent forty-five minutes flat-ironing her naturally curly hair into submission, only for the humidity to turn it into a frizz halo the moment she stepped off the bus. Then there was her outfit—a bright orange t-shirt she'd thought was "vibrant and confident" at Target but now realized screamed "I'M NEW AND DESPERATELY TRYING TOO HARD."

At lunch, she'd finally worked up the nerve to approach a table of sophomores who seemed nice. Like, actually nice, not performative TikTok nice. She'd mid-sentence about transferring from Portland when someone gasped.

"Oh my god, Maya," whispered the girl across from her, whose name she'd already forgotten because her brain was currently rebooting. "You have—you know—" and she mimicked something in her teeth.

Spinach. From the "gourmet" salad bar that was definitely just bagged lettuce with croutons.

Forty-five minutes. That's how long she'd walked around with bright green flecks decorating her teeth while trying to make friends. She could literally feel her soul leaving her body.

"Thanks," Maya choked out, rushing to the bathroom. She spent twenty minutes in there, questioning every life choice that led to this moment, until she heard someone knock.

"Hey, you okay in there?"

It was the girl from lunch—what was her name? Chloe? "I'm so sorry about earlier. I should've told you immediately, but I panicked and made it weird."

"It's fine," Maya called through the door. "I'm just bearing my soul in a Northwood High bathroom. Classic teenage experience."

Chloe laughed, and something about the genuine warmth in it made Maya unlock the door. "Want to come back? I promise I'll be your spinach watchdog from now on. No charge."

"Only if you tell me your actual name this time."

"Chloe. And your shirt's actually fire, by the way. The seniors are gonna roast you, but like, in a jealous way."

Maya caught her reflection in the mirror—orange shirt, frizz halo, zero spinach, new ally. She'd survived worse.

"Deal. But if I ever eat salad again, stop me."