Spinach Smile & Stolen Hat

Maya's brain was absolutely frying. Third period lunch. The cafeteria. The ultimate social hierarchy battlefield. She sat across from Jake, trying to look chill, trying to look like someone who definitely didn't spend twenty minutes curling her hair this morning even though she absolutely had.

"Your phone's blowing up," Jake said, nodding at her iPhone, which buzzed against the table like an angry bee.

Maya grabbed it. Twelve notifications. Her best friend had posted something. Something tagged. Maya clicked and her stomach dropped through the floor.

There it was: a photo from yesterday. THE photo. Her with spinach in her teeth. Her post-smile-checking-in-the-mirror-realization-someone-else-saw-it-first face. Jake had been there. He'd seen it. He hadn't said anything.

Her face burned. Like, actually physically hot. This was it. This was how her social life ended. Not with a bang but with green stuff in her teeth and her best friend thinking she was being supportive by posting it with "#RealLife #NoFilter"

Jake leaned in. "Everything good?"

Maya's eyes watered. Why was she crying over spinach? Why was this her life? She grabbed her backpack to escape.

"Wait," Jake said, reaching out.

Maya turned too fast. Her elbow knocked his baseball hat off the table. It rolled across the cafeteria floor like a sad, defeated tumbleweed, landing directly in front of the popular table. Of course. Of course it did.

"Sorry," she squeaked, already moving to grab it.

"Got it," Jake said, but she was already there, scooping up his hat with the same grace as a baby deer learning to walk.

The entire popular table looked at her. Maya. The girl with the spinach Instagram. The hat-thief extraordinaire.

Jake appeared beside her, taking the hat. He didn't look embarrassed. He didn't look like he regretted sitting with her at lunch.

"Your lipstick's smudged," he said, totally casual, like this was normal conversation. "Also, you should know everyone saw that spinach thing yesterday and nobody cares. We were all too busy watching Marcus choke on a pizza roll."

Maya blinked. "What?"

"You think you're the only one who's had a cafeteria fail?" Jake laughed, putting his hat back on—backward, like he did something cool. "Please. Last month, I walked around with my fly down for three periods. THREE periods, Maya. People still call me 'Zipper' behind my back."

She laughed before she could stop herself. A genuine laugh.

"Besides," Jake added, "the spinach thing? Kinda endearing. Shows you actually eat vegetables. Most girls around here act like food doesn't exist."

Maya's phone buzzed again. Another notification. She didn't check it. Instead, she sat back down, picked up her sandwich, and took a massive bite.

"You got something in your teeth," Jake said immediately.

Maya grinned, full-on spinach smile and everything. "You're just trying to make me insecure now."

"Maybe." Jake grinned back. "Maybe I just want an excuse to sit next to you tomorrow too."

Maya's heart did this little flip thing that definitely wasn't from caffeine. The spinach Instagram still existed. The hat incident had definitely been witnessed. But somehow, none of it mattered quite as much anymore.

She picked up her iPhone and typed out a text to her best friend: Delete the spinach pic. New plan: Operation "Jake Said I'm Endearing" commencing NOW.