Operation: Green Smile

The problem with having braces isn't the pain or the price tag — it's the spinach.

I'm sitting across from Riley at lunch, my heart doing that stupid fluttery thing it always does when she looks at me. We've been besties since seventh grade, attached at the hip, ride-or-die. But lately? Lately she's been different. Checking her phone under the table. Canceling plans. Whispering with Jenna from drama club like they're sharing state secrets.

So I've been doing what any rational person would do: I've been spying on her.

Not like, creepy stalking. Just... paying attention. Checking her socials more often. Noticing she leaves me on read for hours. Yesterday I saw her slip a folded note into Jenna's locker, and when I tried to ask about it later, Riley deflected with some random excuse about algebra homework.

Now I'm pushing spinach around my tray, genuinely considering eating it even though it's basically braces kryptonite. Because Riley's doing that thing again — eyes darting between me and her phone, typing something way too fast.

"What's up with you lately?" I ask, trying to sound casual instead of terrified she's about to drop me.

Riley jumps. "Nothing!"

"You're acting sus."

She sighs, puts her phone face-down. "Maya, I promise, everything's fine. You'll know soon."

Before I can press further, I take a bite of my spinach wrap. Because the universe hates me, a giant leaf gets wedged in my brackets. I can feel it. The social equivalent of walking around with your fly down.

I grab my mirror to assess the damage, and that's when I see it on Riley's phone screen before she can lock it — an Instagram post draft. A picture of me and Riley from last year's fall festival, captioned: "My ride-or-die since day one. Wouldn't want to do this without her."

"Riley..." I start, spinach still sabotaging my smile.

She notices my braces and starts laughing. "Oh my god, you have spinach — "

"What am I going to do this without you for WHAT?" I demand.

Riley's eyes go wide. "You saw?"

"I saw everything! I've been spying on you because I thought you were replacing me!"

"Spying?" Riley practically doubles over. "Maya, I've been planning a surprise birthday video for you. I've been asking people for memories and photos. Jenna's helping me edit it because she knows iMovie."

My face burns. All this time, I've been the spy in my own friendship drama.

"So you're not... secretly hanging out with new people?"

"No!" Riley pulls me into a hug, spinach and all. "You're my best friend. Literally no one could replace you."

I smile, braces flashing, spinach-decorated and all. Sometimes being wrong feels better than being right.

"Just promise me one thing," I say.

"Anything."

"Next time you're planning a surprise? Don't make it look like you're plotting my social execution."