Green in the Teeth

The cafeteria noise hit Maya like a physical wave. Day one at Northwood High, and already she'd managed to sit alone for approximately thirty seconds before someone noticed her existence.

"Hey, you're in my spot."

Maya looked up. This girl had perfect orange highlights in her hair and an expression that suggested Maya was something she'd scraped off her shoe.

"Oh. Sorry." Maya grabbed her tray and moved to the nearest empty table—which happened to be at the edge of the social galaxy, occupied only by a guy in a faded band tee.

"You can sit there," he said without looking up. "I don't own it."

Maya sat. She'd just taken her first bite of the questionable salad when the orange-highlights girl walked past with her group. They were laughing. Hard.

"Oh my god, did you see her teeth?" one of them whisper-shouted.

Maya's stomach dropped. She ran her tongue over her front teeth and felt it. The spinach. The absolute worst-case scenario, first day, hour two, and she was the girl with spinach in her teeth while trying to eat healthy because that's what her mom said would help her "make good impressions."

She reached for her water bottle but knocked it over. Water spilled everywhere, dripping off the table onto her new white jeans.

Great. Just great.

"Here." The band-tee guy slid her a wad of napkins. And then, casual as anything, "You got a little something. Right there." He gestured to his own front teeth.

Maya wiped frantically. "How long?"

"Since before you sat down." His expression was totally unreadable. "I was gonna say something, but then you seemed panicked about the table situation and I didn't want to make it worse."

"You watched me walk around with spinach in my teeth for ten minutes?"

"I mean, I didn't KNOW it was ten minutes. I just got here too." He shrugged. "I'm Leo, by the way. Also new. Also currently experiencing the social trauma of Northwood High."

Maya paused. Then she started laughing. She couldn't help it.

"Maya," she said between giggles. "And I think we just bonded over my public humiliation."

"Better than bonding over nothing," Leo said, grinning. "Besides, now we have a story. Everyone else is just boring. We're the spinach incident. That's character development."

Maya looked at her damp jeans, the salad with half its contents spilled, and this random stranger who'd somehow turned her worst moment into something okay. Something almost good.

"Character development," she agreed. "I'll take it."