Green Between My Teeth

I spent forty-five minutes prepping for Jessica's pool party. Forty-five. My hair had to look effortless but not too-effortless, my trunks trendy but not try-hard. The invite said 'tropical vibes' which apparently meant her parents went overboard on decorations. **Palm** trees lined the driveway, those cheap inflatable ones that wobble in the wind, and the whole backyard smelled like coconut sunscreen and teenage desperation.

I didn't want to go. But Mom said, 'Marcus, you're fifteen. You need social interaction.' Then she made me finish the **spinach** salad before I could leave. Said I'd thank her later for the nutrients. Spoiler: I did not thank her later.

When I showed up, everyone was already in the **pool**. Jessica, this girl I've had a crush on since seventh grade, was floating on a pink flamingo. Her hair was perfect. Mine was already starting to frizz in the humidity. I stood there like an idiot for a solid minute before Tyler—who I'm low-key convinced has never been insecure about anything in his entire life—yelled, 'Marcus! Bro! Get in here!'

I jumped in. Because what else do you do?

Later, Jessica's mom came out with this huge fruit platter. She was super proud of herself for cutting up a whole **papaya**, kept going on about how exotic it was. None of us wanted to try it. We were all used to pizza rolls and whatever snacks nobody questioned. But then Jessica looked at me and said, 'I dare you.' Just like that. A dare.

I ate it. It tasted weirdly sweet, kind of musky. Everyone made these fake gagging noises, but Jessica smiled. Actually smiled. And in that moment, with papaya juice somehow dripping down my chin and pool water making my fingers wrinkly, I realized something important.

I'd been so worried about fitting in, about saying the right things and looking the right way, that I forgot: nobody actually cares that much. Tyler yelling, Jessica daring me, everyone just doing their thing. We were all just figuring it out.

'You've got—' Jessica pointed at her teeth, then mine. 'You know, green stuff.'

My whole face burned. The spinach salad. The stupid, healthy, definitely-not-worth-it spinach salad. But instead of dying inside like I would've last year, I just laughed. 'Yeah, well, at least I'm getting my nutrients.'

Jessica laughed too. Not in a mean way. In a real way.

Maybe that's what growing up feels like—not becoming someone completely different, but becoming okay with being exactly who you already are. Even if who you are is someone with spinach in their teeth at a pool party surrounded by inflatable palm trees and too much sunscreen.