Green Teeth & Golden Hours

Maya's **spinach**-smoothie experiment had backfashed spectacularly. Now she was stuck at the country club pool party with green flecks stuck in her braces, watching **water** droplets cascade down her plastic cup like she was in some kind of teen movie nightmare.

"You good?" Jake asked, sliding onto the lounge chair beside her. Jake, who played **padel** every Tuesday with her older brother and had a smile that made girls forget their own names.

Maya yanked her **hat** lower, attempting the classic cool-girl hair flip but mostly succeeding in looking like she was swatting away an invisible fly. "Totally good. Just... hydrating."

He laughed, and she felt that weird flutter in her chest that was equal parts excitement and genuine horror. This was it. The moment every coming-of-age movie promised.

Then her phone buzzed. THE GROUP CHAT.

Chloe: Omg Jake's totally staring at u

Aisha: Be our **spy** Maya 👀 Find out who he likes

Maya: GUYS STOP

Her heart sank. They only cared because Jake was popular, because Jake had mentioned something about liking "someone" at practice last week, and now her friends were treating her like some undercover agent gathering intel instead of a human having an actual moment.

Maya looked at Jake really looking at her, not through her, not past her. The way the afternoon light caught the amber in his eyes. How he'd moved his chair closer.

"So," he said, "my brother says you're into photography?"

He remembered.

Something shifted in Maya's chest. The spy game, the情报 gathering, the performing for an audience of friends in a group chat—it all felt suddenly exhausting. She wasn't an agent collecting data. She was just a girl with spinach in her teeth and a crush who actually saw her.

"Yeah," she said, pushing the hat back. "Yeah, I am."

The green teeth could wait.