Green Between My Teeth

The pool party was already in full swing when I arrived, clutching my phone like a life preserver. Through the screen, I watched everyone else living their best lives—splash fights, laughter, couples practically merging at the edges of the concrete. Meanwhile, I stood there in my oversized hat, trying to become invisible.

"Yo, Marcus!" Jenna waved from the shallow end, looking like she'd been edited into existence. "You coming in or what?"

I froze. This was exactly why I'd spent the last hour bouncing between playlists and pretending to check notifications I'd already seen three times. Social battery draining faster than my iPhone charge.

Then I caught my reflection in the sliding glass door—hat pulled low, shoulders hunched, radiating the kind of energy that screamed "don't look at me." Somewhere between eighth grade and now, I'd forgotten how to exist without a screen between me and the world.

"Marcus!" Jenna yelled again. "Tyler's doing a cannonball off the roof!"

That's when I noticed it—the patch of vibrant green stuck between my front teeth. Spinach. From the wrap I'd nervously demolished on the way over. I'd been walking around with a salad garden in my smile for twenty minutes.

My face burned. I started backing toward the gate, but Lisa—this sophomore I'd been lowkey crushing on since September—drifted over with an orange slice in each hand. She wasn't even looking at my teeth. She was looking at my hat, then my eyes.

"Nice hat," she said, holding out one of the oranges. "But you know the whole point of a pool party is actually getting in the pool, right?"

I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I wanted my phone to buzz with something—anything—that would justify my immediate exit.

Instead, I took the orange slice. "I, uh... I had spinach for lunch."

Lisa burst out laughing. Not mean laughter. Real laughter. "Dude, I can see it. It's been there since you walked in." She leaned in closer. "I was waiting to see how long it'd take you to notice."

Something shifted. The awkwardness didn't vanish, but it suddenly felt manageable. I took off my hat, ran a hand through my messy hair, and grinned—spinach and all.

"Well," I said, "that explains why nobody's talked to me."

"Please," Lisa said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the water. "Tyler's been doing backflips off the diving board for an hour trying to get your attention. He's just as awkward as you are."

I tossed my phone onto a lawn chair. The screen would still be there later. The pool, though? The pool was happening now.