Goldfish in the Bleachers

Maya's vintage thrift-store hat was basically her emotional support animal. She'd been running from her own reflection since seventh grade, when she cut her own bangs and they came out looking like someone had taken a weed whacker to her forehead. Now a freshman, the hat stayed on through lunch, through math, through life.

"You're literally never taking that off," said Jordan, pointing at Maya's head from across the cafeteria table. "Not even for picture day."

"It's called aesthetic," Maya muttered, stabbing at her salad. But honestly, she was just scared to show her face. High school felt like one giant stage, and she'd forgotten her lines.

The worst part? She had a massive crush on Leo, the guy who sat behind her in biology. Leo, who everyone called Goldfish because he had this habit of staring into space like he was contemplating the universe when really he was just zoning out. Maya found it adorable. She found everything about him adorable.

Then came the spinach incident.

She was talking to Leo after school—actually talking to him—about their bio project. They'd been discussing plant cells for twenty minutes, and Maya was feeling bold. Maybe she could finally make a move.

"You have—" Leo started, then hesitated.

"What?"

"Spinach. In your teeth. Like, a lot of it."

Maya's soul left her body. She'd been smiling at Leo with a mouthful of salad remnants for twenty minutes.

She practically sprinted to the bathroom, hat pulled down low, wondering if she could transfer schools. States away. Maybe Canada.

When she emerged, Leo was still waiting. And for the first time, he wasn't zoning out.

"I should've told you sooner," he said, genuinely apologetic. "But you were talking about mitochondria so passionately, I didn't want to interrupt."

Maya laughed, despite wanting to die. "Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, Leo. It's important."

"Yeah, you really sold it." He smiled. "Wanted to tell you, I'm running for class rep. You think you'd be down to help with my campaign?"

Her heart did that cliché little jump.

"Only if you promise to tell me if I have food in my teeth."

"Deal," Leo said. "Also, you look better without the hat. Just saying."

Maya didn't wear the hat the next day. Or the day after that. Some things, she learned, were worth coming out of the shell for.