Spinach Teeth and Silver Linings

Maya had been planning this moment for weeks. The Friday night football game. Finally. She'd positioned herself perfectly near Chase—soccer team captain, actual sunshine human—when her bestfriend Jayda whispered those fatal words.

"You've got spinach. Like. A lot."

Maya's stomach dropped. She'd eaten that kale salad trying to be ~healthy~ for Chase, and now her crush was three feet away, laughing at something, while she had an entire salad garden stuck in her braces.

"You're kidding, right?"

Jayda's face said everything.

Before Maya could even process the humiliation, Chase noticed her staring. "Hey Maya!" He started walking over.

Maya did what any reasonable person would do. She bolted.

She found herself behind the concession stand, hyperventilating, when something wet nudged her hand. Mr. Henderson's ancient golden retriever, Barnaby, who'd escaped his yard again. He looked at her with those dopey eyes, then sneezed spinach-green snot all over her white Converse.

"Seriously?" Maya whispered. "This is my life now."

But Barnaby just wagged his tail like it was the best day ever. Like having spinach in your teeth and snot on your shoes was totally chill.

Maya started laughing. Actually laughing. Because what was she going to do? Keep running?

She walked back to the group, spinach and all, Chase's confused face when he saw her, Barnaby trotting happily behind like he owned the place.

"Hey Chase," she said. "I've got spinach. It's whatever."

And maybe it was the ridiculous dog, or maybe Chase was just decent, but he smiled. "Cool dog. Want to sit with us?"

Sometimes the most embarrassing moments become the ones that make you realize nobody's actually watching that closely. Except Barnaby. He was definitely watching. Mostly for snacks.