Green Between My Teeth

The country club pool shimmered like something out of a movie, the kind of place where the popular kids from Northwood High spent their entire summers. I definitely didn't belong here—my mom's cousin worked in the kitchen, which was the only reason I'd scored a summer job as a server at the snack bar.

"You're staring again," said Keisha, my coworker, as she arranged trays of fruit. "He's not gonna notice you from behind the counter."

I jerked my gaze away from Lucas, whose wet hair from swimming practice kept falling into his eyes as he laughed with his friends at the prime umbrella tables. Lucas, who'd sat behind me in chemistry since September and never said more than "pass the beaker." Lucas, whose family actually belonged to this place.

"Shut up," I muttered, grabbing a plate of wraps from the prep station. The chef had made me try one earlier—some kale and spinach thing that actually wasn't terrible. "Just doing my job."

"Your job involves not looking like a total simp," Keisha said. "Besides, they're all going to the padel courts after lunch. That's where the real social climbing happens."

I didn't even know what padel was until last week. Some tennis-squash hybrid that all the rich kids obsessed over. The courts were right next to the snack bar, which meant I'd spent way too much time watching Lucas play through the window while pretending to wipe down tables.

The lunch rush began. I wove through clusters of teenagers in expensive swimsuits, taking orders and trying not to spill anything. And then—miracle of miracles—Lucas approached the counter alone.

"Hey," he said. "You're Maya, right? From chem?"

My heart did something illegal. "Yeah! Hi!"

"Cool," he said. "Can I get a large water? And actually, do you want to come watch us play padel later? My partner's sick, and we need someone for mixed doubles."

THIS WAS IT. The moment every coming-of-age movie promised. The popular boy notices the girl. The social hierarchy crumbles.

"I'd love to!" I said, maybe too enthusiastically. "That sounds... honestly, so fun."

"Awesome," Lucas grinned. "See you at the courts in twenty?"

As he walked away, I caught my reflection in the window. A massive, impossible-to-miss piece of spinach wedged between my two front teeth. I'd been smiling at Lucas. Talking to him. With SPINACH in my teeth.

"Maya?" Keisha's voice floated from somewhere behind me. "You okay? You look like you're about to cry."

I considered faking an illness. Going home. Never returning to Northwood High.

Instead, I fished the spinach out with my tongue, washed it down with water from the dispenser, and grabbed a bottle for Lucas.

"You know what?" I said to Keisha. "If he can't handle a little spinach in my teeth, he's not worth my time."

"Bold of you to assume he even noticed," Keisha said. "He seemed pretty focused on asking you out."

"Asking me to play padel is not asking me out."

"Girl, please."

Walking to the padel courts twenty minutes later, spinach-free and nervous, I realized something: maybe growing up wasn't about becoming someone different. It was about being okay with the person you already were—even when that person occasionally had green things stuck in her teeth.