Spinach Between My Teeth

The pool party of the year. That's what Maya's instagram story called it. I stood there clutching my **iphone**, watching everyone cannonball into crystal water while I hovered near the snack table, paralyzed by the question: was I ready to be seen in a swimsuit?

Then I saw him—Jake, the guy I'd been crushing on since seventh grade, organizing a **human pyramid** in the shallow end. "We need one more!" someone shouted, and before my brain could process the social suicide I was committing, I'd volunteered.

Everything was fine until Marcus's little brother decided to **papaya**-bread me. Yes, that's now a verb. He'd been eating exotic fruit salad and decided now was the perfect moment to squeeze a handful of mushy **papaya** onto my shoulder as I climbed to the pyramid's second tier. The shriek that escaped my lips? Not my finest moment.

I disintegrated the pyramid. Three people went underwater. Jake emerged looking like he'd swallowed half the pool.

But here's where it gets worse. mortified, I retreated to the snack table and aggressively shoved **spinach** dip into my mouth, staring at my reflection in my **iphone** screen. And there it was. Bright green. Stuck between my front teeth. I'd been talking to Jake for twenty minutes like that.

I bolted to the bathroom, ready to transfer schools, change my name, maybe move to a country where **spinach** didn't exist.

But when I came out, Jake was waiting. He had **spinach** in his teeth too.故意故意 "accidentally on purpose," he grinned. And then he said the words that somehow made everything okay: "So, about that pyramid..."