The Green Smile Disaster

The party was already low-key fire when I spotted Jake by the pool. He was actually laughing at something Tyler said, his hair still wet from the pool, and I felt that familiar jittery feeling in my chest like I'd swallowed a entire handful of Pop Rocks.

"You good, Maya?" Chen asked, handing me a solo cup. "You've been staring at Jake for like five minutes straight. It's getting weird."

"Shut up," I said, but I could feel my face heating up. "I'm not staring. I'm... observing. From a tactical distance."

"Whatever you say, Spy Girl." Chen rolled their eyes but grinned. "But FYI, he literally keeps looking over here too. Just saying."

My stomach did this full gymnastics routine because Jake had been looking at me all week at camp, and every time our eyes caught, I'd immediately look away like the world's most awkward deer in headlights. But tonight was different. Tonight was the last night of counselor training, and I was actually going to talk to him. Not just talk. Have a whole conversation. Maybe even flirt a little, if I remembered how words worked.

The spinach dip sat on the snack table, looking innocent enough. I should've known better.

Two hours later, I was leaning against the pool fence, finally having a normal conversation with Jake about how weird it was that they made us memorize all those camp songs, when I felt it. That little piece of spinach, wedged between my front teeth like a tiny green betrayal.

I froze mid-sentence. How long had it been there? Had I been talking to Jake with a green smile for twenty minutes? Thirty? Had everyone seen and literally no one told me?

The realization hit me like actual physical damage. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, where I spent five minutes aggressively brushing my teeth with my finger and staring at my reflection like it had personally wronged me.

When I came back out, Jake was still by the pool, but now he was talking to Sarah, laughing at something she said. Of course. Of course he was.

I grabbed my phone and texted Chen:

"you had ONE job"

"???"

"SPINACH. IN MY TEETH. FOR LIKE HALF AN HOUR. WHILE I WAS TALKING TO JAKE."

"Omg I thought you knew! I didn't want to embarrass you!"

"TOO LATE FOR THAT"

I stood there by the pool, watching the water ripple in the moonlight, feeling like the biggest clown on earth. This is it, I thought. This is my villain origin story. The Green Smile Disaster, available in theaters never.

Then Jake was beside me.

"Hey," he said. "You disappeared."

"Bathroom," I said, because my brain had apparently stopped working entirely.

"Cool. Cool." He rocked back on his heels. "So, I was wondering..."

"If you could say anything other than wondering, that would be honestly great," I blurted out.

Jake stared at me for a second, and then he laughed. Actually laughed.

"Okay, fair. I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out tomorrow? Before we all have to be back at camp? But honestly, your delivery was way more entertaining than mine."

I stared at him. "You still want to hang out? After I just said that to you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He shrugged. "I like that you say what you're thinking. It's... I don't know. Refreshing? Everyone else is being so weird and fake about everything."

The pool lights caught the movement behind him — his dog, Bear, had somehow escaped and was galloping toward us like a fuzzy, escaped convict. The giant golden retriever hit the pool edge at full speed and launched himself into the water with an enormous splash that drenched both of us.

"BEAR! NO!" Jake yelled, but he was laughing.

We stood there, dripping wet, watching this ridiculous dog paddle around like he owned the place. I looked at Jake and started laughing too — couldn't help it. The whole night had been such a mess. The spinach, the anxiety, the overthinking, and now this.

"So," Jake said, pushing wet hair out of his eyes, "I'm taking that as a yes to tomorrow?"

"Yes," I said. "But you're buying me breakfast. As compensation for your dog's crimes."

"Deal." He grinned. "And hey, for what it's worth? You looked great all night. Spinach or not."

"Jake."

"What?

"Never say that again."

"Noted."

Bear paddled over to the edge and shook himself off, soaking us both again. And somewhere in all the chaos, I realized something: growing up was messy and awkward and sometimes involved spinach in your teeth in front of your crush. But sometimes, just sometimes, the mess was exactly where the good stuff happened.