The Green Smoothie Incident

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, looking for signs of improvement. Two weeks of Spinach Force smoothies and my skin was supposed to be glowing, not looking like I'd been dusted with chalk.

"You ready?" Jordan called from downstairs. "Your dad's waiting outside."

Padel practice. The one place where being naturally athletic didn't matter because everyone else had been playing since kindergarten and I'd picked up a racket three months ago.

"Coming!" I grabbed my vitamin-packed smoothie from the fridge. The taste hadn't gotten any better. If anything, my body had developed a form of psychological resistance where every sip made my throat want to close up.

Jordan was already in the backseat, scrolling through TikTok. They didn't look like someone who needed vitamin supplements or green vegetables to function. They just existed, effortlessly cool, while I was out here conducting experiments on myself like a desperate scientist.

"What's that smell?" they asked, wrinkling their nose.

"Health," I said, trying to sound casual. "It's a detox thing."

Jordan laughed, but not in a mean way. "You know you don't need to change anything, right?"

The words hit harder than they should have. Because Jordan was my friend, but also kind of not? We'd been hanging out more since school started, and sometimes I'd catch them looking at me when they thought I wouldn't notice, and then I'd overthink everything until my brain felt like a browser with too many tabs open.

At the recreation center, the padel courts were already buzzing. Tournament prep season. Everyone talking about strategies and protein shakes and whose older brother was dating who from the rival school.

Coach blew his whistle. "Pairs! Same as last week."

I ended up with Maya, who'd been giving me mixed signals since October. Great. Just great.

"You smell like a garden," she said, not unkindly, as we stretched.

"Spinach," I admitted, feeling my face heat up. "I'm going through a phase."

She smiled. It was a real smile, not the performative one she used with teachers. "We've all been there. Last year I tried to become a morning person. Lasted three days."

Later, after practice, everyone decided to hit the pool. The humidity hung thick in the air as we lounged on the pool chairs, people jumping in and out, music playing from someone's portable speaker.

I was just sitting there, overthinking whether to take off my shirt or keep it on, when Jordan appeared with two gatorades and sat beside me.

"Here. It's blue. Not green. No vegetables involved."

"Thanks," I said, accepting it. The condensation cooled my palm.

"You know," Jordan said quietly, so only I could hear, "I like that you're weird about health stuff. It's kind of adorable, actually."

My stomach did that thing it does when the drop on a roller coaster is coming.

"Adorable?"

"Don't let it go to your head." Jordan stood up, extended a hand. "Come on. I'll race you to the other side."

I took Jordan's hand. The green smoothie could wait until tomorrow. Some things were more important than being perfect.