Spinach in My Teeth

The carnival goldfish sat in its plastic bag on the passenger seat of Maya's beat-up Honda, judging me. Its name was Bartholomew, because Maya insisted on giving everything ridiculous names.

"You're gonna do great," she said, backing out of my driveway.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one presenting a Sphinx riddle project in front of the entire honors English class while looking like a walking tomato."

I'd spent the morning overthinking my outfit, my hair, my existence. The classic sophomore spiral. Now I was worried I had spinach stuck in my teeth from lunch—a nervous habit I couldn't shake. I checked my reflection in the car window again.

"The Sphinx isn't even that deep," Maya said, turning up the radio. "It's just about knowing who you are."

"Easy when you're, like, actually confident. I'm still figuring it out."

Bartholomew swam in tiny, frantic circles, and I felt that. I felt every orbit.

When we got to school, the hallway hit me like always—the lockers slamming, people shouting, the invisible but very real social hierarchy mapping itself out in real time. Tyler from my biology class made eye contact and my stomach did that stupid flutter thing. I ducked into the bathroom, checking my teeth for the third time. No spinach. I was fine. I was totally fine.

Mrs. G's class came too fast.

"Leo? You're up."

I walked to the front of the room, my palms sweating. I'd written my own riddle about identity—about how we're all just guessing, really. I cleared my throat.

"I have three faces but only one mouth," I said. "I speak in many voices but rarely say what I mean. What am I?"

Silence. Then Maya's hand shot up.

"A teenager?"

The class laughed, but it was the good kind. The kind that said, yeah, same. Even Tyler cracked a smile.

I looked around the room and realized something: we were all just goldfish swimming in tiny circles, pretending we weren't confused. The Sphinx's riddle wasn't about having the right answer. It was about asking the question.

"Close enough," I said. "It's 'social media.' But honestly? Both work."

On the way to lunch, Maya nudged me. "You killed it."

"Think I had spinach?"

"Dude, you definitely had spinach."

I didn't even care anymore.