Green in the Teeth

Maya felt like a total zombie as she stood against the wall at Jake's party. Her first real high school house party, and she was currently failing at being cool. She'd been ghost-texting her cat, Mittens, all night—literally sending messages to her own number because she forgot to charge her prepaid phone and couldn't afford data.

"Hey, you're Maya from chem lab, right?"

Jake. THE Jake. Captain of the soccer team, wearer of perfectly fitted hoodles, possessor of a smile that made her stomach do things she didn't want to analyze in public. He held out a red Solo cup. "Want some? It's basically just Sprite with a splash of something."

She took it. Because of course she did. Because she was seventeen and nervous and his eyes were unfairly warm.

Maya took a sip. Not bad. She took another, bigger gulp, then proceeded to choke as Jake's bulldog, Bear—a literal eighty-pound ball of wrinkles and slobber—barreled into her legs. Red cup went everywhere. Down her white crop top. Splattered across Jake's limited-edition sneakers. Absolute catastrophe.

"Bear!" Jake laughed, grabbing towels like this happened all the time. Which, honestly, it probably did.

Maya's face burned so hot she felt physically ill. She mumbled something about needing air and bolted for the bathroom, locking herself inside and finally catching her reflection in the mirror.

And there it was. A gorgeous, vibrant piece of spinach wedged between her front teeth, probably since lunch at Chipotle with her mom. She'd been walking around with it for HOURS. Talking to people. Smiling. Existing.

She wanted to dissolve. Actually evaporate. Become a cloud and float away into the atmosphere.

A soft knock on the door. "You good in there?"

Maya opened the door. Jake stood there, still smiling, now holding a fresh sweatshirt—his sweatshirt. "Thought you might need this. And for what it's worth, Bear only attacks people he actually likes."

She wanted to die. She wanted to live forever. Being seventeen was absolutely exhausting.