Goldfish in an Orange Shirt

Maya's first day at Northwood High, and she'd already committed three cardinal sins before lunch.

Sin one: wearing that bright orange shirt her mom swore 'popped.' It didn't pop. It screamed. Everywhere she walked, she felt like a walking traffic cone, impossible to miss, impossible to ignore.

Sin two: sitting at the wrong table. Not the popular kids' table—she wasn't brave enough for that—but the table where everyone else was too awkward to move, creating a silent standoff of portable lunchboxes and nervous glances.

Sin three: the spinach incident.

She'd brought her grandma's 'healthy' smoothie—some green monstrosity that tasted like lawn clippings and regret. When Liam, the sophomore with the messy hair and the kind of smile that made your stomach do gymnastics, asked 'What's that?' Maya panicked.

'Spinach,' she blurted. 'It's... good for you.'

She smiled. A wide, confident smile.

The table went silent. Then someone giggled. Then someone else.

'You've got...' Liam gestured at his own teeth.

Maya's face burned hotter than her shirt. She scrubbed her mouth with a napkin, but the damage was done. She was the new girl. The orange traffic cone. The spinach-tooth girl. The one who'd be forever remembered as 'that freshman.'

But then Liam handed her a mirror from his backpack. 'It's gone now,' he said, like it was no big deal. Like this wasn't the most humiliating moment of her life.

'Thanks,' she mumbled, feeling like a goldfish—mouth opening and closing, saying absolutely nothing.

'Hey,' he said. 'You sit here tomorrow, we'll be prepared. We'll call it the Spinach Squad.'

Maya actually laughed. And when she looked around the table, she realized everyone else was smiling too.

Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be so bad after all.