Spinach Between Universes

Maya's palms were sweating so much she could probably water a plant. Which would be ironic, considering she'd just spent twenty minutes arguing with her mom about eating more vegetables. The spinach from dinner was still stuck somewhere in her braces, she could feel it, and of course tonight was the night Jake from AP Chem would actually notice her.

The house party loomed ahead, its windows glowing like something from a movie she wasn't cool enough to be in. Inside, the social pyramid was as real as the geometry homework she'd abandoned on her desk. At the base: people like her, barely visible. At the top: Jake, who somehow made a flannel look like a statement.

"Hey, you coming in?" Her best friend Leo stood on the porch, holding up his phone. "I just won this goldfish from some dude's backyard carnival setup. His name is Toast."

"You won a fish at a house party?" Maya asked, which was exactly when Jake walked out.

"Who won a fish?" Jake said, and Maya's brain short-circuited. She opened her mouth to say something normal, something witty, something that wouldn't ruin everything.

"I have spinach in my teeth," she heard herself say instead.

Jake stared at her. Leo stopped moving. The universe seemed to pause, waiting to see if the ground would swallow her whole.

Then Jake laughed. Not mean-laughed. Actually laughed. "Dude, I think I still have popcorn from the movies. You want the bathroom mirror or should I go first?"

Maya's palms stopped sweating. The goldfish—Toast—bubbled in its bag. The social pyramid didn't feel so steep anymore, or maybe she'd just found a handhold.

"Bathroom first," she said. "But Toast comes with."