Green in the Teeth

Maya's lungs burned as she pounded the pavement, the cross country team's **running** route looping past the abandoned sawmill. Coach bellowed about state qualifiers from his pickup truck, but Maya's mind was elsewhere — specifically, on Jordan, who ran two strides ahead with those effortless calves and hair that caught the golden-hour light.

"Yo, Earth to Miles," Jordan said, falling back to match her pace. "You alive?"

Maya's stomach did that traitorous flippy thing. "Yeah. Just. Tired."

"Same. Hey, we doing that thing at Tony's later?" Jordan asked casually. "Everyone's gonna be there."

"The thing." Maya nodded, trying to play it cool even though she had zero clue what thing Jordan was referring to. Social dynamics were like speaking a language she'd missed three years of immersion for. "For sure."

Practice ended with Coach announcing a team dinner at Tony's Pizza — apparently *that* was the thing. Maya spent twenty minutes in front of the bathroom mirror at home, debating between three shirts that all basically looked the same, and checking her teeth obsessively because getting food stuck in them was literally her biggest recurring nightmare.

She arrived at Tony's to find the team already claimed the back booth. Jordan slid over, patting the seat. "Saved you a spot."

Maya's heart went full drum solo as she squeezed in beside them, trying to remember how humans normally sat. She ordered a salad because that seemed like the safe choice, something that wouldn't drip or crumble or make a scene.

Then Jordan said something genuinely funny — some story about a squirrel stealing Coach's whistle — and Maya laughed. Like, actually laughed, not the fake polite one.

"Your laugh is contagious," Jordan said, smiling at her.

Maya smiled back.

Then Jordan's eyebrows knitted. "Um, Maya? You got a little..."

They gestured to their own teeth.

Maya's stomach dropped through the floor. She rushed to the bathroom and there it was, bright green and mocking her from between her front teeth: **spinach**. She'd gone through fourteen years of life somehow avoiding this exact moment, and here it was, in all its horrific glory.

She contemplated crawling out the bathroom window and starting over in Canada.

But when she returned to the table, red-faced and prepared to die, Jordan just whispered, "Fresh is the worst, right? Last week I had popcorn shells stuck for like three periods."

"You're just saying that."

"Swear to god. Ask anyone." Jordan shrugged. "Anyway, you should come **running** with me Saturday mornings. Just us. If you want."

Maya's brain short-circuited. Was this a date? Was this a training thing? Was this some elaborate setup for a prank?

Then Jordan's phone dinged. "Ah, **fox**."

"What?"

"Foxing. My cousin's term for when your parents unexpectedly show up." Jordan grabbed their slice of pizza. "My dad's outside. Text you later?"

Maya watched them leave, still processing everything. Her phone buzzed: an unknown number. *You left your sweatshirt btw also I laughed SO hard at the spinach thing but didn't want to make it weird in front of everyone but also ur laugh IS actually contagious just so u know*

Maya typed back: *I hate everything rn but also thanks I think?*

*Same. Saturday though? Actually *

Maya saved the contact, realizing maybe high school wasn't completely terrible after all. Just mostly terrible with occasional moments that didn't completely suck.