Green Smoothie Disaster

Maya stared at her reflection, palms sweating like she'd just run a marathon. In twenty minutes, Jake would be here for their first real hangout — just the two of them, no squad buffer. She'd spent two hours curling her hair and another thirty trying to find an outfit that said 'effortlessly cool' instead of 'trying way too hard.' Her cat, Nacho, sat on her bed judging her with those unimpressed yellow eyes. 'You have no idea what it's like,' she told him. Nacho yawned.

Her phone buzzed. GROUP CHAT: 'U eating ur feelings again?' — Karim. 'No,' Maya typed back, though the empty spinach container on her desk suggested otherwise. She'd gone through three bags that week because her mom said it would make her skin glow. Spoiler: it hadn't.

The vitamin gummies her grandmother swore by sat next to her mirror. 'For strength,' Grandma insisted. 'Like Popeye.' Maya had rolled her eyes but taken them anyway because she was that desperate.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Maya's heart did gymnastics. She grabbed her phone, tripped over Nacho — who scattered like his tail was on fire — and somehow arrived at the stairs looking somewhat composed. Jake stood there looking annoyingly cute in his varsity jacket.

'Hey,' he said. 'You look...'

Maya waited. Was he going to say amazing? Stunning? Worth the three bags of spinach?

'...like you haven't slept in a week.'

Maya's palm met her forehead. Hard. 'That's the glow, Jake. It's in.'

He laughed, and something in her chest did that annoying fluttery thing. 'So, about that movie...'

They ended up at his place, his parents' fancy coffee machine hissing like an angry cat. Jake made her some green smoothie thing he swore was basically a 'vitamin bomb.' Maya took one sip and nearly died.

'That tastes like lawn clippings,' she said.

'It's an acquired taste,' Jake replied, looking weirdly proud. 'My older brother made it. He's on this health kick.'

'Where is he?'

'College. Art school.' Jake leaned in. 'Between us? I think he's full of bull, but he won't shut up about antioxidants.'

Maya laughed so hard green smoothie came out her nose. Jake laughed too, but nicer, and handed her a napkin like a gentleman. And right there, with her burning eyes and dignity in shreds, Maya realized something: maybe the real glow wasn't in a jar or a bag or whatever nonsense her family swore by. Maybe it was just finding someone whose smoothie-making skills were equally trash.

Nacho would be so disappointed.