The Friday Lunch Disaster Protocol

My hair looked perfect for exactly eleven seconds that morning. Then the bus hit a pothole, and suddenly I looked like I'd been electrocuted in a wind tunnel. Not exactly the vibe I wanted for sitting across from Tyler at lunch today—the Tyler who'd finally noticed me after two years of invisibility.

I pulled my beanie down low. Emergency fashion protocol activated.

The cafeteria smelled like tater tots and desperation. I spotted Tyler by the windows, his iphone glowing on the tray. My stomach did that embarrassing flutter thing. "Hey!" I said, sliding into the seat across from him. Casual. Cool. Nailed it.

"Hey!" He grinned. "Nice hat."

"Thanks." Smooth, Maya. Seriously smooth.

I'd packed a lunch of doom: spinach salad. Because apparently 14-year-old me thought, You know what's attractive? Eating leafy greens that get stuck in your teeth. I took a bite, trying to look sophisticated while essentially chewing grass.

Tyler was talking about his weekend plans, and I was nodding along like a normal human being, when suddenly he stopped mid-sentence.

His eyes widened.

"What?" I said, panicked. "Is something wrong?"

"Your," he started, then stopped. "Your teeth."

I froze. The horror washed over me like ice water. The spinach. The literal green nightmare wedged between my two front teeth, visible from space, glowing like an embarrassment beacon for all to see.

I grabbed my phone, flipped on the camera, and yup. There it was. A chunky green situation announcing itself to the world.

That night, I found my cat, Mochi, sleeping on my bed. "At least you can't judge me," I muttered, scratching behind her ears. "You once coughed up a hairball and then acted like you meant to do it."

My phone buzzed. A text from Tyler: Lunch tmrw? Bring whatever you want lol

n

I smiled. Maybe the spinach incident wasn't a total disaster after all.