Spinach Smile Thunderstorm

The pool party at Jessica's house was supposed to be the social event of the summer, but instead, I was standing in the corner of her deck clutching a red solo cup like it was a lifeline. I'd been running from this exact moment for weeks—mostly because the thought of wearing a swimsuit in front of my entire eighth-grade class made me want to disappear into the void.

Then I spotted Marcus across the pool. He was laughing with his friends, water dripping from his hair, totally unbothered. We'd been friends since kindergarten, but something felt different lately. Like every time he looked at me, my stomach did this weird flip thing that definitely didn't happen with, say, my math partner or cousin.

I finally worked up the courage to head toward the snack table, needing something to do with my hands besides awkwardly holding my cup. Big mistake. After grabbing some chips and dip, I caught my reflection in the sliding glass door and froze. A massive piece of spinach was wedged between my front teeth, probably from the pasta salad earlier. I'd been walking around with a green vegetarian grills-for-miles situation ALL AFTERNOON.

Before I could execute a tactical retreat to the bathroom, Marcus appeared beside me, dripping pool water everywhere.

"Hey, you good? You've been standing over here looking like you're solving quantum equations in your head."

I opened my mouth to respond—then remembered the spinach. I snapped it shut.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, covering my mouth with my hand like a total weirdo.

Marcus leaned in closer, his hazel eyes crinkling with that lopsided grin that made my brain short-circuit. "You have a little—" He gestured to his own teeth. "Right there."

I wanted the earth to crack open and swallow me whole.

But then he started laughing—not making fun of me, just... laughing. "I've been there, dude. Last month at my sister's graduation, I went through the entire reception with chocolate all over my face. My mom didn't even tell me until we got in the car."

The tension in my chest loosened. I laughed too, genuinely this time.

"Thanks for the rescue, I guess."

"Anytime." Marcus bumped my shoulder with his. "Hey, you want to play chicken? Tyler and Jess are destroying everyone."

Suddenly, lightning cracked across the sky, followed immediately by thunder that rattled the patio furniture. The pool surface rippled with the vibration, and Jessica's mom came rushing out. "Everyone inside! Storm's rolling in fast!"

We all scrambled toward the house, and in the chaos of grabbing towels and phones, Marcus grabbed my hand to pull me toward the sliding door. His palm was warm against mine, and for a split second, everything else faded into background noise.

Maybe pool parties weren't so terrible after all.

Maybe, just maybe, eighth grade wouldn't be completely awful.

And definitely? I was never eating pasta salad at a social function ever again.