Operation: Lunchroom Crash

Jake's **orange** hair was already betraying him. First day at Northwood High, and he'd spent forty-five minutes in front of the mirror trying to tame the chaotic curls his mom called "artistic." Now they were just shouting LOOK AT ME in a hallway packed with people who definitely knew where they were going.

"You're gonna do great," he whispered to himself, then immediately felt like a loser for talking to himself in public.

Fourth period lunch. The ultimate social minefield. Jake spotted an empty table near the windows and started weaving through the chaos when he saw HER—Sarah Chen, leaning against the lockers, laughing with her friends like she'd never experienced awkward in her entire life.

And then, the worst thing possible happened: Jake became that guy who literally **spy**-level stalks his crush. He found himself "casually" walking past her locker three times, each time pretending to be deeply fascinated by the fire extinguisher, the water fountain, and somehow the same blank wall.

"What is WRONG with me," he thought, speed-walking away before anyone could witness his social suicide.

By the time he reached the lunch line, Jake was operating on pure adrenaline and approximately zero brain cells. He grabbed a tray, grabbed whatever the lunch lady scooped at him, and fled toward the safety of a corner table.

Three bites in, he realized something catastrophic. The salad. It had **spinach** in it. And not like, cute spinach—legitimate, forest-sized leaves that were currently decorating his teeth like awful green confetti.

He'd been smiling. AT PEOPLE. With spinach teeth. For possibly twenty minutes.

By seventh period AP Chem, Jake had entered full **zombie** mode. Eyes glazed, movements sluggish, completely dead inside. The day had lasted approximately four thousand years, and he'd embarrassed himself in front of roughly half the student body.

"Jake?"

He jumped. Sarah Chen was standing at his lab table, holding two bottles of something that definitely required safety goggles.

"You're my lab partner," she said, grinning. "I saw you at lunch. You had..." She gestured at her own teeth, then burst out laughing. "You know what? Let's just start over. I'm Sarah. And you definitely need to know where the bathroom is."

Jake stared at her, then started laughing too. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be a disaster. Probably would be. But maybe not.