Spinach Teeth & Second Chances

I'd spent forty-five minutes perfecting my beach waves for Tyler's party. My best friend Jordan said I was overthinking it, but they didn't understand — this was THE party. The one where I'd finally talk to Maya, the girl I'd been lowkey crushing on since September.

The problem started at dinner. My mom made her famous spinach salad, and obviously I had to eat it because she was watching me like a hawk. I checked my teeth three times in the bathroom mirror before leaving.

I thought I was safe.

Fast forward to the party, and Jordan pulls me aside with that look. The "we need to talk NOW" look.

"You have spinach in your teeth," they whispered. "Like, a LOT of spinach. A whole forest."

I froze. My face burned hotter than the sun. "HOW LONG has it been there?!"

Jordan tried not to laugh. "Since you arrived? Pretty sure everyone's seen it. That's why Tyler's cousin keeps looking at you like that."

I wanted to disappear. Just straight-up teleport to another dimension where spinach didn't exist and my crush didn't think I was a walking salad bar.

"I'll help you fix it," Jordan said, still grinning. "That's what best friends are for, right? Handling your dental disasters?"

We snuck off to the bathroom, and Jordan spent five minutes helping me pick every last piece of green from my teeth while silently losing their mind. I was mortified, but somehow their laughter made it less terrible.

When we finally came back out, Bear—Jordan's massive, dopey Newfoundland—had somehow gotten into the party and was stealing hors d'oeuvres off a table. Because apparently tonight was just chaos incarnate.

We both lost it. Something about the absurdity of it all—my spinach teeth, Jordan laughing until they cried, Bear literally eating chips off a paper plate like he owned the place—just broke us.

Maya found us a few minutes later, sitting on the front steps, recovering from the chaos.

"Hey," she said, sitting down next to me. "I love your hair, by the way. Those waves look great."

I stared at her. After everything, she was complimenting my HAIR?

"Thanks," I managed, my voice squeaky.

She laughed. "You're cute when you're flustered."

Jordan gagged dramatically. "I'm leaving. Love you both, but I'm leaving."

Maya and I talked until the party ended. We discovered we had the same obscure taste in music, same sense of humor, same everything. The spinach incident didn't matter. Bear eating the hors d'oeuvres didn't matter. What mattered was that she thought I was cute anyway.

Later, Jordan sent me a text: "Next time, skip the spinach salad before a party. Deal?"

"Deal," I replied.

And yes, Maya and I are dating now. But that's a story for another day.