The Green Smoothie Incident

I stood in front of my mirror applying the eighth layer of concealer to the volcano erupting on my chin. "This is fine," I whispered to myself, though it definitely wasn't. First day at Northwood High and I already looked like a walking PSA for puberty.

Mom shoved a green sludge into my hand as I rushed out the door. "Spinach, kale, protein powder... It's basically a multivitamin in a cup!" she chirped, clearly ignoring the fact that I looked like I hadn't slept since June.

"Love you, bye,"

I barely made it to first period before the smoothie betrayed me. My stomach made a sound like a dying whale during roll call. The cutest guy I'd ever seen—dark hair, jawline that could cut glass, eyes that actually sparkled—turned around. I wanted to dissolve into the floor, or at least into a puddle of water.

"New girl?" he whispered, half-smiling. "I'm Jordan."

"Maya," I squeaked. My voice cracked. Because obviously.

By lunch, I'd established myself as that weird girl who carries around a mason jar of green sludge and makes involuntary whale noises. I sat alone, scrolling through my phone, trying to look mysterious and unavailable instead of just lonely.

Then Jordan slid into the seat across from me. Mind = blown.

"My friends are being total bulls today," he said, nodding toward a table where three guys were laughing way too hard at something. "Can I hide here for a bit?"

"Sure," I managed, casual. "I'm just decoding the sphinx's riddle of why high school exists."

He laughed. Actual laughed. "Right? The mystery of the ages."

We spent the rest of lunch dissecting the social hierarchy like anthropologists from another planet. Jordan was smart, weird, and actually listened when I spoke—like, really listened, not just waited for his turn to talk.

"Your smoothie looks terrifying," he said eventually.

"It's spinach and sadness, mostly."

"Can I try?"

"You'll regret it forever."

He took a sip, made a face like he'd swallowed lemon juice mixed with disappointment, and then grinned. "Worth it."

My phone buzzed—Mom: "How's the vitamin smoothie going? Don't forget you have swim practice today!"

"You're on the swim team?" Jordan asked.

"Unfortunately. I sink like a stone."

"I'll teach you," he said. "I'm pretty good with water."

And just like that, the first day of high school didn't completely suck. Sometimes the universe gives you a break—usually right after you've made a fool of yourself in front of the cutest guy in school.

Small wins. I'll take them.