Spinach Teeth & Orange Hair

Maya's phone buzzed with the text she'd been waiting for all week: party at Jake's tonight, finally. The same Jake who'd sat behind her in history since September, the one with the stupid perfect hair and the way he looked at her like she was actually funny.

"You're going, right?" Tasha asked, sprawled across Maya's bed while Maya applied yet another layer of orange hair dye. "Because if you bail again, I swear to god—"

"I'm going," Maya said, but her hands shook. Freshly orange hair, first real party, first time maybe talking to Jake like more than just history class banter. What could go wrong?

Everything, apparently. She decided to be healthy and cool and brought a spinach smoothie to pregame at Tasha's, trying to channel some wellness influencer energy. Instead she spent twenty minutes picking spinach out of her teeth while Tasha laughed so hard she fell off the bed.

"You look like a zombie who tried to eat a salad," Tasha wheezed.

"Shut up." Maya checked her reflection again. "Is it all gone?"

"Yeah, you're good. Your hair actually looks kinda fire, not gonna lie."

The party was exactly what Maya expected: too many people, too loud, someone's older brother buying cheap alcohol. Jake was in the kitchen, wearing that gray hoodie that made his arms look good. He smiled when he saw her, and Maya felt her face flush the exact color of her hair.

"Hey!" Jake shouted over the music. "You came!"

"Yeah!" Maya shouted back, because apparently she'd forgotten how to speak at normal volumes. "I brought—I mean, I'm here!"

They talked for twenty minutes about everything and nothing. Jake was actually funny, not just cute-funny but like, genuinely witty. Maya felt it—that terrifying spark, the possibility that something could actually happen.

Then she laughed at something he said, really laughed, and Jake's expression shifted.

"You have—you have something," he gestured at his teeth.

Spinach. Again. She'd literally just checked.

Maya's face burned hotter than it ever had in her entire life. She mumbled something about the bathroom and basically sprinted away, mortified, ready to dye her hair back brown and transfer schools.

But when she emerged from the bathroom, spinach-free and emotionally scarred, Jake was still there. Waiting.

"Still here," he said, shrugging. "I mean, unless you're leaving?"

"I—I could stay."

"Good. Because I was gonna tell you about the time I got braces in seventh grade and had popcorn stuck in them for literally four hours during band practice." He grinned. "We've all been there."

Maya laughed, really laughed, and this time she checked her teeth first. "You're just saying that."

"I swear. It was traumatic." He stepped closer. "Your hair looks really cool, by the way. I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's different. You're different." He paused. "In a good way."

Maya thought about the spinach, and her orange hair, and how she'd almost missed all of this because she was scared. Sometimes the most embarrassing moments became the ones you couldn't stop thinking about later, replaying them in bed while smiling at your ceiling.

"Want to go outside?" Jake asked. "It's kinda loud in here."

"Yeah," Maya said. "Yeah, let's go."