The Bull in the Blender

Maya's morning routine started the same way every day: her mom dropping a **vitamin** supplement into her palm with the precision of a pharmaceutical scientist, followed immediately by the command to finish her **spinach** smoothie before the bus arrived.

"It's packed with iron, honey," her mom called from the kitchen. "You're growing."

Maya rolled her eyes so hard she practically saw her own brain. The smoothie tasted like someone had liquefied a front lawn.

Her **iPhone** buzzed in her pocket — the group chat was already blowing up about Tyler's party Friday night. Everyone was going. Maya included, assuming she could survive the week without her mom forcing her to bring homemade kale chips as her contribution.

But the real problem wasn't the spinach or the vitamins. It was Connor.

Connor had been flirting with her for weeks — lingering at her locker, sending those texts that made her stomach do gymnastics, sitting next to her at lunch even though his friends sat three tables away. Maya had spent hours analyzing his Instagram stories, screenshotting his posts to discuss with Sasha, and generally descending into full-blown crush mode.

Then yesterday, Sasha had sent her a screenshot of Connor's DMs to someone else. Same compliments. Same memes. Same heart emoji combo.

"That's such **bull**," Sasha had written. "He's playing you both."

Now, staring at herself in the bathroom mirror while brushing her teeth, Maya felt like she'd been hit by a truck. She should have known. Nobody actually liked spinach smoothies, and apparently, nobody actually liked her either — at least not in the way she'd hoped.

Her little brother burst into the bathroom holding his stuffed **bear**, Mr. Whiskers, by the ear.

"Mom said stop hogging the bathroom!"

"Get out, Leo!"

"You're crying," he said, completely unfazed by her glare. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying."

"You're totally crying. Is it about Connor? Sasha told me she thinks he's a tool."

Maya stared at him. Since when did ten-year-olds have better judgment than she did?

"Whatever," she muttered, pushing past him.

That night, she deleted Connor's contact. Then she spent three hours watching comfort shows on her phone while eating an entire pint of ice cream. Spinach be damned.

The next morning, when her mom handed her the vitamin, Maya took it without complaint. Then she grabbed a banana instead of the smoothie.

"What about your iron?"

"I'll take my chances," Maya said. "Besides, sometimes you just gotta eat what you actually want."

Her mom looked confused, but Maya just smiled. Some lessons were harder to swallow than spinach, but at least she was finally learning to trust her own gut.