Palm Sweats & Social Spies

My palms were sweating so hard they were practically sliding off my phone. Three minutes until first period, and I'd been cyber-stalking Jordan's profile for forty-five minutes straight. I know, I know—that's creepy spy behavior, but ever since Jordan had smiled at me in the cafeteria yesterday, I'd been spiraling.

"You're literally obsessing," my best friend Riley said, sliding into the seat beside me. She pointed at my hair. "And you've been straightening that same piece for ten minutes. It's perfect, Maya. Chill."

I tucked my hair behind my ear and groaned. "What if yesterday was just a fluke? What if Jordan was smiling at something behind me?"

"Or what if Jordan was smiling at you because you're actually stunning and you never give yourself enough credit?" Riley countered, nudging my orange backpack with her foot. "Also, you look fire today. That color looks insane on you."

I smiled despite myself. Riley always knew how to hype me up when my brain was being its own worst enemy. The first bell rang, and we gathered our stuff.

Then it happened—Jordan walked past my locker, caught my eye, and grinned.

"Hey Maya," Jordan said. "Nice shirt."

I managed a coherent response, and Jordan continued down the hall. I let out the breath I'd been holding.

"Told you," Riley whispered. "Now come on, we've got English, and if we're late, Ms. Peterson will actually end us."

We started walking, my anxiety finally settling into something manageable. I was feeling good—until we passed the bathroom mirror and I froze.

Spinach. A massive, obvious piece of green spinach wedged between my front teeth, visible from space.

"WHY didn't you tell me?!" I hissed, frantically digging it out with my fingernail. "Jordan literally just talked to me! I've had this in my teeth all morning!"

Riley was doubled over laughing. "I swear I didn't see it! But honestly? Jordan still smiled anyway. That's true love right there."

I rolled my eyes, but I was laughing too. Maybe Riley was right. Maybe I didn't need to be perfect. Maybe someone could like me even with spinach in my teeth.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Jordan: "Sit with me at lunch? :)"

I stared at it, my palm sweating against the screen again. But this time, I didn't overthink it.

"Yes," I typed back.

Spying on Jordan's profile? Over. Checking my reflection constantly? Done. Whatever happened next, I was ready to find out in person.