Green Between My Teeth

The cafeteria hummed with that specific frequency of teenage judgment—like, everyone pretending not to look while definitely looking. I slid my tray onto the table, trying to be invisible, which is basically impossible when you're the new kid and also built like a giraffe who hasn't figured out their limbs yet.

"Yo Marcus, you gonna eat that?" Tyrell nodded at my lunch. Tyrell was effortlessly cool in that way where nothing seemed to embarrass him. I, on the other hand, had already calculated twelve ways this conversation could go wrong.

"Probably?" I said. Brilliant.

I'd packed spinach wraps because my mom said they'd give me energy. Energy to do what, exactly? Spiral in social situations? Because that's what happened when Maya walked by our table. Maya, with her vintage band tees and hair that defied gravity. She smiled at me—actually AT me—and my brain short-circuited. I smiled back like a normal human being, except not normal at all because something felt weird.

Weird like: I excused myself to the water fountain and caught my reflection.

Spinach. A whole forest of it wedged between my front teeth. I'd been grinning at Maya with enough leafy greens to start a farmers market. I wanted to dissolve. Like, actually become water and just evaporate from existence.

"You good, man?" Tyrell appeared behind me. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

"My life is over," I whispered. "Spinach incident."

Tyrell doubled over laughing. Not mean laughing—like, actual laughing. "Bro, that's it? I thought you failed a test or something." He pulled out his phone. "Maya's in my bio class. She's literally obsessed with your sketchbook. She thinks you're an artist."

"She thinks I'm spinach mouth."

"Nah, she thinks you're the quiet kid who draws dragons. Which is sick, by the way." He paused. "Also, my dog got into my neighbor's garden last week and ate all their spinach. Dogs love that stuff. It's a whole thing."

I stared at him. "Are you—comforting me?"

"I'm saying nobody cares about your teeth, Marcus. They care about you being weirdly good at drawing dragons." He grinned. "Also, Mr. Harrison's been roaming the halls like a bull looking for kids skipping his test. We should probably go back before we both get detention."

For the first time since moving here, something in my chest loosened. Not everything—school was still a labyrinth of social minefields, and I'd definitely need to master the art of mirror-checking before smiling at crushes. but maybe not everything needed to be perfect.

"Your dog really ate spinach?" I asked as we walked back.

"Bro, that dog will eat anything." Tyrell shook his head. "One time he ate my homework. Literally. Teacher didn't even believe me."

I laughed, and this time it was real.

Maybe being the new kid wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I could even survive another smile at Maya—after a thorough teeth inspection, obviously. Small victories.