Green Between My Teeth

The cafeteria went dead silent. I mean, the kind of silence where you can hear the air conditioning hissing through the vents like a dying snake.

I looked down at my tray – spinach salad with tofu, my go-to lunch since I'd gone vegetarian over the summer. Pretty standard, right? Wrong. Because across from me sat Brianna, my supposed best friend since seventh grade, and next to her sat Skylar, the girl who'd been giving me side-eye since I made varsity cross country.

"Your teeth," Brianna said, not even trying to keep her voice down. "You've got – oh my god, Skylar, look, it's hilarious."

My face burned. I could feel it radiating heat like I'd just finished running a 5K in August. I grabbed my phone and flipped on the camera, and there it was – bright green spinach wedged between my front teeth like I was some kind of cartoon rabbit who'd been eating lunch mid-conversation.

"How long –" I started, but my voice cracked.

"All of third period," Skylar said, and I swear she was trying not to laugh. "Math? With Mr. Harrison? You were literally smiling at him like that."

I'd smiled at Mr. Harrison. I'd talked to Connor. I'd walked through the hallway like I owned the place, all while looking like I'd been grazing in a vegetable garden.

"Brianna," I said, my voice suddenly steady, "why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged, playing with her hair. "I don't know. I thought it was kind of funny."

Funny.

I stood up, my tray rattling, and walked away. Outside, I sat on the edge of the fountain behind the school, letting the water spray cool my burning face. My phone buzzed – twenty notifications from the group chat.

"Hey."

I looked up. It was Connor from my math class, holding out a bottle of water.

"Rough lunch?" he asked.

"You could say that."

"Brianna's being weird about it," he said. "Like, really weird. Everyone in the group chat's taking your side."

He sat beside me, not too close, not too far. "Also, for what it's worth? The spinach thing happens to everyone. Last month, I had popcorn stuck in my braces during a presentation."

"No way."

"I have pictures. Not as proof, but as blackmail. Against myself."

I laughed – actually laughed – and for the first time all day, the knot in my chest loosened. Maybe friends who let you walk around with spinach in your teeth aren't really friends at all. And sometimes, the people you least expect are the ones who hand you a bottle of water and sit with you by the fountain.

"Want to walk back inside?" Connor asked. "Together?"

"Yeah," I said. "Together."