Spinach in the Storm

Maya sat across from Jake in the cafeteria, her heart doing that weird fluttery thing that had nothing to do with the stale pizza on her tray. She'd spent forty-five minutes on her hair that morning, straightening it until it fell like a dark curtain over her shoulders. Even picked out this orange sundress specifically because Jake had once said orange looked good on her.

"So," Jake said, leaning forward, "about the dance—"

BAM.

A tray crashed somewhere behind them. Maya jumped, sending her water glass flying. The clear liquid splashed across the table, soaking her history notes and Jake's hoodie.

"Oh my GOD, I'm so sorry!" Maya scrambled for napkins, her face burning hotter than the sun.

Jake laughed, wiping his sleeve. "It's chill, Maya. No biggie."

But it was a biggie. Because as she leaned across the table, Maya caught her reflection in the cafeteria window and her stomach dropped to her knees. A giant, dark piece of spinach was wedged between her two front teeth, plain as day, broadcasting itself like a neon sign that said: HI, I'M MAYA AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO USE A MIRROR.

She'd been sitting there for twenty minutes. Twenty whole minutes with spinach in her teeth while talking to Jake.

Maya's internal monologue was just screaming in all caps when the cafeteria's emergency lights suddenly flickered. Through the wall of windows, a jagged fork of **lightning** cracked the sky in half, so bright it left spots in her vision.

"Whoa," someone yelled.

The cafeteria went dark. Emergency floodlights clicked on, casting everything in an eerie orange glow. Kids were screaming, phones were out, teachers were trying to shout over the chaos.

"We should probably move away from the windows," Jake said, standing up.

Maya's eyes adjusted to the weird light and she saw it: the cafeteria's social **pyramid** dissolving right in front of her. The popular table wasn't so popular anymore — everyone was just confused teenagers in the dark, same as her. Even Brianna, queen of everything since seventh grade, was clutching her phone like a lifeline, looking small.

Outside, the sky opened up. Rain sheeted down the windows in blurred rivers.

Maya slid her hand into her pocket, found the little dental fisk she kept there (thanks, Mom, for being right about everything), and ducked her head. "Jake?" she called over the noise. "I'll be right back."

In the bathroom, she scraped away the spinach, rinsed her face with **water**, and looked at herself. The orange dress was still orange. Her hair was still straight. She was still Maya.

She walked back out to find Jake standing exactly where she'd left him, holding both their trays.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yeah." Maya stood taller. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Cool." Jake shifted his weight. "So, I was asking about the dance. Before everything went sideways."

Outside, another **lightning** strike lit up the whole cafeteria for a split second.

"Yeah?" Maya smiled, spinach-free and not even caring about the wet spot on her dress. "What about it?"