Green Teeth & Golden Hour

Maya's mom was doing that thing again — pureeing spinach into everything. "It's just spinach, Maya! It's good for you!" Yeah, and so is not dying of embarrassment, but here we were.

I'd been crushing on Alex since seventh period English started. He had that effortless vibe, you know? Meanwhile I was out here rocking spinach breath and anxiety sweats.

"Check your iPhone," my best friend Jenna stage-whispered in the cafeteria. "He finally posted the party details."

My phone was dead. Because obviously. The universe had it out for me.

That night, lightning cracked the sky like someone had taken a baseball bat to the atmosphere. Perfect. Alex's party was supposed to be lit, but my hair was already frizzing like I'd stuck a fork in an electrical socket.

I showed up anyway. Jenna did my makeup in the car while rain pounded the roof. The spinach smoothie my mom forced me to drink sat in my stomach like a green brick of regret.

Alex's house was exactly how I imagined — fairy lights everywhere, people in the backyard, someone playing acoustic guitar poorly. I grabbed a red cup and tried to look like I belonged.

Then lightning struck again. Not metaphorically. The actual power went out. Pitch black, everywhere.

Someone screamed. Someone else laughed. And then my iPhone flashlight blipped on because I'd somehow left it unlocked in my pocket. I was literally the only light source in a pitch-black party.

I looked like a human glowstick. Great.

But then Alex was there. He smelled like cedarwood and something expensive.

"Sick flashlight," he said. And then he said something I didn't expect: "I've been meaning to talk to you."

My brain short-circuited. "About what?"

"About how you always have the best notes in English. And how you drew that really cool dragon on your notebook last week."

I stood there, my phone lighting up both our faces like the world's most awkward interrogation, while he proceeded to tell me he'd been wanting to ask me to hang out but didn't know how.

The power flickered back on. Everyone cheered. I turned off my flashlight, my hands shaking.

"So," Alex said, scratching the back of his neck. "You want to get food sometime? Maybe somewhere that doesn't serve... whatever that green stuff is on your teeth?"

I died. I literally died and came back to life.

"Spinach smoothie," I said, wanting to evaporate. "My mom's health phase."

He grinned. "Honestly? That's kinda sick. My mom tries to get me to eat kale and I literally throw a tantrum like I'm five."

We ended up sitting on his front porch while the storm raged, talking about nothing and everything until my phone died for real. The green thing in my teeth? He said it was endearing.

Teenagers are weird, man. But sometimes the most embarrassing moments become the ones that change everything.