The Green Between My Teeth

The pool party of the century. That's what Maya called it, and when Maya Rodriguez called something that, you showed up. Even if you'd rather be literally anywhere else, even if the idea of wearing a swimsuit in front of half your sophomore class made your stomach do backflips.

I stood by the snack table, clutching a red plastic cup like it was a life raft. Someone had brought those fancy spinach wraps from Trader Joe's—because apparently pool parties required artisanal vegetables now—and I'd foolishly eaten two.

"You good?"

I jumped. It was Leo, my lab partner from biology, wearing swim trunks that somehow managed to be both neon yellow and socially acceptable. He grinned, and something in my chest did that annoying fluttery thing.

"Just, you know. contemplating the meaning of chlorine and teenage existence."

He laughed. "Deep." He paused. "Hey, you've got—" He gestured to his own teeth.

My heart stopped. Spinach. I had spinach in my teeth at the party of the century. I excused myself with something that might have been English and speed-walked toward the bathroom, passing the diving board where Marcus Chen was doing his best impression of a human sphinx—arms crossed, watching everyone like he was solving ancient riddles instead of just standing there being mysterious.

What was wrong with me? Leo was just being a friend. A cool, funny, unfairly attractive friend who I happened to have a massive crush on. No big deal.

I cleaned my teeth for approximately three years, then reemerged just as someone yelled "CANNONBALL contest!" Because apparently we were twelve now.

The truth was, I'd been avoiding the pool all day. Swimming wasn't my thing—never had been. While other kids were doing laps and perfecting their butterfly strokes, I was the one doing my best impression of a cat in a bathtub. But Maya was already in the water, shouting my name, and Leo was giving me this look, this hopeful you-could-do-it look, and—

Fine.

I jumped.

The water hit me like a shock, cold and sudden and everywhere. For a second, I couldn't tell up from down. Then I broke the surface, gasping, wiping chlorinated water from my eyes. Maya was screaming something about points, Leo was laughing, and for the first time all day, I wasn't overthinking.

Sometimes you just have to jump in. The water's freezing. You look ridiculous. There's probably spinach in your teeth. But you're not standing on the edge anymore, watching everyone else have all the fun.

And honestly? That felt like winning.