Green Between My Teeth

I've been officially designated the team *spy*. Not the cool kind — just the one whose mom brings organic snacks to every away game. Tonight it's kale chips and something that looks like lawn clippings, which feels like a personal attack after the varsity *baseball* team already roasted me for three innings straight.

'Hey, Garden Boy,' calls Leo from the dugout, grinning. He's got this crooked smile that makes my stomach do gymnastics. 'Your mom pack more dirt for us?'

The team laughs. I laugh too, because apparently my dignity is a negotiable commodity when it comes to Leo freaking Martinez.

Coach blows the whistle. 'Alright, pickup game. Marcus, you're *running* first.'

I grab my glove and trot to right field, still chewing. Something feels weird — kinda stringy, kinda stuck between my molars. I try to work it loose with my tongue while pretending to scan for fly balls.

Leo hits a line drive straight at me. I panic. The ball sails past my glove, hits the fence, and I trip over my own feet trying to chase it. The universe has clearly decided this is my villain origin story.

'You good?' Leo jogs over. He's breathing a little hard, and there's sweat on his forehead, and he's close enough that I can count his eyelashes, and this is fine, this is totally fine, except I'm still trying to dislodge whatever is in my teeth with my tongue.

'Yeah,' I say. 'Just —'

He frowns. 'You got...' He gestures to his own teeth.

My stomach drops through the earth's crust. I sprint to the *water* fountain, stick my whole mouth under the stream, and swish aggressively. When I pull back, there's a chunk of bright green *spinach* clinging to the metal. It's mocking me personally.

I turn around. Half the team is watching. Leo is watching. The spinach is watching.

'So,' Leo says, rubbing the back of his neck. 'About that dirt your mom packs...'

'Yeah,' I say, wiping my face with my shirt. 'Turns out it's actually just really aggressive salad.'

He laughs — not mean this time, but something softer. 'Good thing I like salad.'

He holds out his fist.

I bump it. My hand is shaking. I'm still thinking about that spinach, but also about the way Leo's looking at me now, like I'm not just Garden Boy anymore.

Tomorrow I will throw away every vegetable in my house. Today? Today I might actually survive this.