Spinach Smile Catastrophe

Maya's hair refused to cooperate. It was picture day at Northwood High, and her normally sleek curls had decided to rebel against every product she'd tried. Her mom stood in the doorway, holding out a breakfast smoothie.

"You need spinach," Mom insisted, as Maya frantically attacked her hair with a straightening iron. "It'll make your skin glow."

"Mom, nobody cares about glowing skin when their hair looks like a tornado victim," Maya grumbled, though she accepted the smoothie anyway.

The real problem wasn't picture day. It was that Maya had agreed to meet Jordan—that ridiculously cute sophomore from her art class—at Coffee Haven afterward. Jordan, who had somehow managed to make his messy hair look intentional and charming.

Picture day was predictably awful. The photographer told her to "work that smile" while Maya internally screamed. But the smoothie had actually helped—her skin did look kind of amazing.

At Coffee Haven, Jordan was already there, sitting at a corner table with his sketchbook. He looked up and smiled, and Maya's stomach did that flippy thing it always did around him.

"Hey! Your hair looks great today," he said.

Maya touched her hair self-consciously. "You're just saying that."

"No, really." Jordan closed his sketchbook. "I mean, I was literally just drawing this cat"—he pointed to the window, where a calico cat sat on a ledge outside—"but I'm pretty sure the cat was staring at you because your hair looks amazing."

Maya laughed despite herself. "That cat is definitely not looking at me."

Their conversation flowed easily. They talked about art class (Ms. Peterson's terrible jokes), music (Jordan's obsession with obscure indie bands), and the upcoming spring formal. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

When they finally stood up to leave, Jordan's expression shifted. "You have a little something..." He gestured to his own teeth.

Maya hurriedly pulled out her phone camera. There, stuck between her front teeth like a neon billboard announcing her social demise: a bright green piece of spinach.

She wanted to evaporate. All those moments of connection, all that flirting, ruined by a leafy green vegetable.

But Jordan didn't laugh. Instead, he said, "Honestly? My little sister gets spinach stuck in her teeth all the time. It's basically her signature move."

Maya looked up, horrified but relieved. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"No, what I mean is..." Jordan smiled, and this time it reached his eyes. "I think it's kind of cute that you're human."

Later that night, Maya FaceTimed her best friend Chloe.

"So?" Chloe demanded. "How was it?"

Maya ran a hand through her wild curls, no longer trying to tame them. "Disastrous. But somehow... perfect."