Green Between My Teeth

The humidity hit me like a wall when I stepped out of Jake's mom's minivan. My first pool party of the summer, and I was already lowkey panicking.

"You good?" Jake asked, bumping my shoulder with his. "You've been weirdly quiet all day."

"Yeah, just... you know," I lied. What I couldn't say: things had been different between us since he started hanging out with the popular crowd. I was still adjusting to this new version of my oldest friend.

We walked through the gate and chaos erupted. Twenty people in the pool, music bumping, someone doing cannonballs off the diving board. I spotted Maya immediately—her hair wet, laughing at something some guy said. My stomach did that thing it always did when I saw her.

"Yo, Marcus!" Jake called out, already stripping to his trunks. "Get in here!"

I set my towel on a lounge chair, trying to play it cool. But then I caught my reflection in the sliding glass door and froze. A massive piece of spinach was wedged between my front teeth—leftover from the spinach artichoke dip my mom made before she dropped me off.

I wanted to die. I'd been walking around with green stuff in my teeth all day.

"Marcus!" Jake yelled from the pool. "Maya's asking about you!"

Everyone was looking. I had milliseconds to decide: run to the bathroom and look like I was bailing, or own it.

I jumped in.

The water shocked my system, and I came up sputtering. Maya swam over, her eyes bright.

"Finally!" She laughed. "I was wondering when you'd get in."

"Yeah, just... had to handle something," I said.

"You've got a little—" She gestured to her teeth, and my heart sank. But then she smiled, kind of. "Spinach. But it's gone now."

I flushed underwater. She'd seen it the whole time.

"My weird aunt won me this goldfish at a carnival last week," she said, changing the subject like she hadn't just destroyed my dignity. "Named him Chandler. He keeps staring at me. I think he's judging my life choices."

I laughed—genuine this time. "Chandler the judging goldfish. I'd watch out if I were you."

"Wanna help me give him a better life?" she asked. "I have this empty tank in my room..."

Jake surfaced next to us, grinning. "Dude, are you talking about fish again? You're such a nerd."

But Maya didn't roll her eyes like she usually did when Jake called her that. Instead, she looked at me, waiting.

"Actually," I said, swimming toward the pool ladder, "I'd love to see this judging goldfish."

Jake shook his head, already swimming toward the deep end where the popular kids were. "Whatever. You guys are weird."

Getting out of the pool, I realized something. Maybe the person I thought was my oldest friend was drifting away, but that wasn't necessarily bad. Sometimes growing up meant growing apart—and making room for people who got you, spinach teeth and all.