The Goldfish in My Lucky Hat

The beanie sat pulled low over my ears — my lucky hat, the one that made me feel slightly less invisible at Northwood High. Tonight, it wasn't working.

"Dude, you good?" Marcus asked, nodding toward the kitchen where Chloe stood by the snack table.

"Fine," I lied, smoothie in hand. Mom's special blend: spinach, banana, something green that tasted like lawn clippings. "Just chilling."

But my heart was running a marathon. Chloe, the girl who'd sat behind me in bio since September, was actually at Jordan's party. And I was wearing my lucky hat, feeling like anything but lucky.

Then it happened. I walked up, smile ready, and caught her eye.

"Hey!" she said, returning the smile. "I love your hat!"

My brain short-circuited. "Thanks! I made it myself!"

"You... made a beanie?"

"What? No. I meant —"

She laughed. Not mean laughter. Actual laughter. "You're adorable."

I was soaring. Until I smiled bigger and she did this tiny cringe-nose-wrinkle thing.

"You have..." She pointed at her teeth.

Spinach. A full, neon-green leaf wedged between my front teeth, glowing like radioactive waste.

"Oh my god." I spun around, beanie nearly flying off, and practically sprinted to the bathroom. Behind me, someone yelled, "YOUR FISH IS ESCAPING!"

The carnival goldfish Jordan had won earlier, currently living in a mixing bowl on the counter, chose that exact moment to flop onto the floor.

Chloe screaming. Marcus scrambling. Me, spinach-teeth and all, somehow catching the fish with my bare hands and depositing it back into its bowl like some kind of aquatic superhero.

We ended up on the back porch, watching the rescued goldfish swim in its temporary home. Chloe picked a tiny piece of spinach from her own teeth — solidarity? — and smiled.

"So," she said. "You save fish and wear cute beanies. What else should I know about you?"

My lucky hat, it turned out, hadn't failed me after all.