Spinach Smile

Maya stared at her phone screen, thumb hovering over the post button. The cafeteria picture from twenty minutes ago — her and Chloe laughing over chocolate milk, looking like the ultimate bestie goals — already had 47 likes. But something made her stomach drop.

She zoomed in. There. In the corner of her smile. A tiny, undeniable piece of **spinach** from lunch wedged between her front teeth.

"You've got to be kidding me," Maya whispered, practically sprinting to the bathroom.

For three days, she'd been watching Chloe like a total **spy**. Checking every story, counting whose comments got hearts, memorizing who Chloe sat with at lunch when Maya had band practice. It was exhausting, but Maya needed to know. Needed to figure out why her best friend of two years had suddenly started acting weird.

They'd been inseparable since seventh grade, through braces disasters and first crushes and that time Maya cried in the bathroom because her mom forgot to pick her up from soccer. But lately? Everything felt different.

Chloe's texts were shorter. Their weekend hangouts kept getting "rescheduled." And this week, Maya had noticed something that made her chest tight: Chloe was already logged into their shared Netflix account when Maya tried to watch something. Like someone else had been using it.

"Maybe you're overthinking it," her older sister had said when Maya asked for advice. "But trust your gut."

Now in the bathroom, Maya scrubbed at her teeth until her gums hurt. The reflection showed someone who looked tired, someone who'd spent three weeks trying to decode every emoji choice, every lunch table switch, every cancelled plan.

Her phone buzzed.

Chloe: "omg did you see my story??"

Maya's hands shook as she opened it. Chloe's story was a screenshot of their cafeteria picture, but zoomed in on Maya's spinach situation. The caption read: "POV: when your bestie is too cute to care about spinach 😂"

She'd tagged Maya. Added a heart. Posted it for their 200+ mutual friends to see.

Maya's eyes burned. Chloe hadn't been pulling away. She'd been planning this — making Maya look stupid in front of everyone. Making it seem like they were still close while completely humiliated.

"We're not **friends** anymore," Maya typed, then deleted. Then typed again.

Her hands were shaking so hard she dropped her phone. Picking it up, she noticed Chloe had added to her story. Another post, just a minute ago: a picture of them from seventh grade, both with braces and zero fashion sense. Chloe's caption: "real friends accept your spinach era 💚"

Maya stared. Then she noticed something she'd missed before — Chloe's Netflix activity log. Someone named "Spinach Queen" had been binging their show. That was Maya's inside joke nickname from literally forever.

"Oh," Maya whispered. "Oh my god, I'm an idiot."