Spinach Nights and Stray Hearts

I stood behind the counter at GreenLeaf, my parents' pretentious health-food café, mechanically chopping spinach for the seventeenth time that shift. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like an insect trapped in a jar, and I felt like a complete zombie – three AP exams, two extracurriculars, and approximately zero hours of sleep would do that to you.

"Hey, can I get the signature smoothie?" a voice asked.

I looked up and froze. It was Tyler Chen, who sat behind me in AP Chem and had somehow made it through junior year without ever once speaking to me. His hair was messy in that way that looked accidental but probably took twenty minutes and three different products to achieve.

"The one with spinach?" I managed, my voice sounding weirdly loud in the empty café.

"Yeah, my mom says I need more greens." He rolled his eyes. "Whatever that means."

I nodded and started grabbing ingredients, trying not to think about how my apron had a mysterious green stain right across the front. Probably from the spinach. Probably.

A cat – a mangy orange tabby that had been hanging around the dumpster for weeks – suddenly launched itself at the glass door, claws scrabbling against the surface like it was auditioning for a horror movie.

"Whoa!" Tyler laughed. "Is that your cat?"

"No, just a stray. I've been feeding it when my parents aren't looking." I paused. "Which is technically against health code, so don't tell anyone."

"Your secret's safe with me." He smiled, and something in my chest did that annoying flutter thing it always did in movies but I'd never actually experienced before. "I'm Tyler, by the way."

"Maya. I mean, I know. We have Chem together."

"Oh." He looked surprised. "How did I never notice you?"

And standing there in my spinach-stained apron, sleep-deprived and slightly terrified, I realized something – sometimes the most zombie-making, routine-destroying moments happen when you least expect them. The cat sat outside the door, looking smug. I blended the smoothie, feeling weirdly hopeful.

"So," Tyler said, "does this smoothie actually taste like salad?"

"Only if you think about it too hard," I told him. "The trick is to never think about it too hard."