Green Smoothie Summer

The spinach incident started it all. I was fifteen, standing at the edge of Jenna's backyard pool, holding my glass of murky green sludge like it was radioactive.

"What is THAT?" Heather asked, pointing at my cup with manicured nails. Her laugh was sharp, like broken glass.

"It's healthy," I mumbled. That's when I felt it — a piece of spinach wedged between my front teeth. The ultimate social crime.

Maddie, my oldest friend, didn't laugh. She just stared at me with these huge eyes, then grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the house. "Come with me. Now."

I started running — actually running — away from the party, away from Heather's mean girl smirk, away from the version of myself I'd been trying to be all summer. The girl who wore bikinis she hated and drank fruit punch because it was "cool."

We ended up in Jenna's bathroom. Maddie handed me a washcloth.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, wiping furiously at my teeth. "You're my best friend."

"Because Heather would've made it worse," Maddie said quietly. "And I was scared she'd turn on me next."

The truth hung between us like smoke. I'd been so busy trying to impress the popular crowd that I hadn't noticed Maddie withdrawing, building walls to protect herself from the social bear I'd awakened. I'd become the very thing we used to make fun of together.

"I'm sorry," I said. "For everything. For trying so hard to fit in that I left myself behind. And you."

Maddie's shoulders dropped. "Remember when we swore we'd never be those girls?"

I looked in the mirror. No spinach. But something else was missing too.

"Let's go back," I said. "And if Heather makes one more comment, I'll dump my green smoothie on her designer shoes."

Maddie grinned. "Now that's the girl I missed."

We walked back to the pool, not running anymore. Not away from something, but toward who we actually were. And yeah, Heather said something snarky. But Maddie and I just looked at each other and laughed.

Some things matter more than being cool.