Spinach in the Brim

Marcus adjusted the fedora he'd bought online, hoping it made him look mysterious instead of like a LARPing pirate. His therapist called it a "security object." His friends called it "that thing you never take off, even in math class when it's literally against dress code."

Tonight, it was staying on.

The cable connecting his family's ancient TV to the streaming stick had been acting up all week, flickering during关键时刻 scenes. Which meant he and Sasha were watching Netflix on his laptop in the garage, because his parents were having their weekly "we're not fighting, we're just passionate" discussion in the living room.

"You gonna eat that last piece?" Sasha asked, pointing at the spinach pizza.

Marcus froze. This was it. The moment. He'd been crushing on Sasha since seventh grade when she'd beaten him in the school spelling bee by correctly spelling "millennium" backward while he'd stumbled on "rhythm." Now they were juniors, and she was in his garage, eating pizza, and he was about to make his move.

"Nah, you take it," he said, his voice cracking exactly how he'd feared it would. Smooth, Marcus. Real smooth.

Sasha grabbed the slice, took a huge bite, and froze. "Marcus, you have something—" She gestured at her own teeth.

"What?" His heart hammered. This was it. She was gonna confess. She'd lean in, maybe touch his hand, say that she'd been waiting for this moment just like he had—

"You have spinach in your teeth. Like, a LOT."

Marcus scrambled for his phone, turned on the camera, and there it was: a glorious, green monument to his impending social death. He scraped at it with his fingernail while Sasha watched, visibly holding back laughter.

"You know," she said, "most people would just say thanks and move on."

"Most people aren't trying to make a move while looking like they just ate a salad through a straw." The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Sasha's eyes widened. "A move?"

Marcus's face burned. He could blame it on the flickering garage light, on the fedora suddenly feeling too tight, on the fact that his social skills had been developed entirely through YouTube tutorials and Reddit threads.

"I mean, not—"

"Marcus." Sasha set down her pizza. "I've been coming over here every Friday for three months. You think I'm here for the sketchy cable situation?"

"I—"

"Spinach and all," she said, grinning, "you're kinda my favorite person."

Marcus didn't know if he should laugh, cry, or high-five the universe. So he just took off his hat and set it on the workbench, then leaned in.

The cable outside chose that moment to finally give up, plunging the garage into darkness.

"Well," Sasha's voice came from the dark. "This is actually perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now I can't see if you have spinach in your teeth."

Marcus laughed, and for the first time in years, he wasn't thinking about what was covering his head.