Green Lightning

Maya's first week at Northwood High felt like walking through a minefield blindfolded. She'd transferred mid-semester thanks to her mom's new job, and the social hierarchy was already calcified like old cheese.

Then she met Riley in the cafeteria—sitting alone with a Tupperware of raw spinach like it was totally normal.

"You gonna eat all that?" Maya asked, gesturing to the greens mountain.

Riley looked up, unbothered. "It's basically nature's multivitamin. My mom's on this huge health kick ever since she got diagnosed with that vitamin D deficiency."

Maya snorted. "Same. Mine's trying to convince me that sunlight is basically poison now."

They clicked instantly. Riley was weirdly confident about being weird, which Maya admired because she spent 90% of her mental energy trying not to look like a total loser. By Friday, they were officially friends—the kind that shared AirPods on the walk home and sent each other unhinged TikToks at 2 AM.

But Monday brought The Incident.

Maya was finally getting invited to sit with the popular crowd—Jordan's table, where the conversation flowed like they'd all been scripted by the same social media strategist. She'd prepped all morning. Cute outfit. Casual hair. Carefully practiced responses.

Then she smiled at something Jordan said, and his face went weirdly blank.

"You've got..." He gestured at his own teeth.

Maya's stomach dropped. She bolted to the bathroom, and there it was—spinach. A massive, emerald-green piece wedged between her front teeth like it was paid rent.

She'd been talking to Jordan for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes with spinach in her teeth while trying to make a good impression. The mortification hit her like lightning—sudden, blinding, absolutely devastating.

She hid in a stall until the bell rang, considering transferring schools. Maybe moving to a different state. Changing her name.

Riley found her eventually, sliding under the door a note written on a cafeteria napkin: IT HAPPENED TO ME IN 7TH GRADE. I TALKED TO MY CRUSH WITH POPPY SEEDS FOR LIKE 10 MINUTES. I SURVIVED. YOU WILL TOO.

Maya opened the door. Riley stood there, not looking sympathetic but like she was trying not to laugh.

"Jordan's not even that cool," Riley said. "His cousin tried to fight me last year because I wouldn't let him copy my bio homework."

Maya started giggling. Then full-on laughing, the ugly kind where you can't breathe.

"Fine," Maya said. "But you're doing a full teeth check before I ever talk to anyone important again."

"Deal," Riley grinned. "Also, I'm never letting you live this down. Ever."

"Fair enough."

Some friendships start with perfect moments. Others start with humiliation and a bathroom intervention. Maya figured the second kind lasted longer anyway.