Greener on the Other Screen

Maya's palms were literally sweating through her favorite skirt. She'd been crushing on Alex since seventh grade, and tonight? Finally. The party of the century at Jessica's house. She'd spent two hours curling her hair just right, practicing her casual laugh in the mirror eight times, and psyching herself up to actually talk to him without sounding like a total weirdo.

"You got this," her best friend Chloe texted. "Just be chill. Not weird-chill. NORMAL-chill."

Maya grabbed her phone, checking Instagram one last time before heading inside. Bad idea. Alex had posted a story thirty minutes ago—him and some girl from the rival high school, laughing together at some beach bonfire. Her stomach did that awful twisty thing.

She tried to play it cool when she spotted him near the snack table. "Hey, Alex!"

"Maya! What's up?" He smiled, but it felt… different.

They talked about classes, about the upcoming game, but her brain kept showing her that story on repeat. The bonfire. The other girl. Why hadn't he mentioned it? She excused herself to grab some food, needing literally anything to do with her hands.

Spinach artichoke dip. It looked fancy, the kind of dip regular people ate at parties. She took a huge bite—

And realized way too late that spinach + braces = catastrophic mistake.

A massive green chunk was absolutely stuck in her braces. Like, full-on ornament level. Alex was walking toward her, probably about to say something meaningful, maybe even compliment her hair, and she looked like she'd been chewing on a small forest.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern all over his face.

Her phone buzzed in her hand—Chloe again. "STOP OVER THINKING AND JUST HAVE FUN. Also, Alex likes you. I literally heard him say it."

Maya bolted for the bathroom, phone clutched tight in her palm. She'd humiliated herself in front of her crush, again. Why was she like this? Why couldn't she just be normal like everyone else?

Then her phone buzzed again. Not a text. Alex had posted another story—just now. It was a picture of her, laughing at something Jessica had said earlier, captioned: "This girl. Always makes everything better."

Her hands stopped shaking. He wasn't interested in the beach bonfire girl. He was interested in her. Spinach disasters and all.

Maya took a deep breath, checked her reflection one last time—yep, still had green in her braces—and walked back out there. She'd worry about the spinach later. Right now, she had a conversation to finish.