The Lightning Lunch

Marcus's orange hoodie was his safety blanket—the same one he'd worn through every awkward phase since seventh grade. Today, though, it felt like a neon sign screaming LOOK AT ME as he navigated the cafeteria toward Jordan's table.

Outside, lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the lunchroom's chaos. Marcus's hands sweated. This was it. He'd been crushing on Jordan since that time they'd lab-partnered in bio and Jordan had made a pun about mitochondria being the powerhouse of his heart.

"Hey," Marcus managed, sliding into the empty seat across from Jordan. "Mind if I—"

"Sit?" Jordan grinned, pushing aside a pile of napkins. "I was hoping you would."

Marcus's brain short-circuited. WAS HOPING YOU WOULD.

He reached for his lunch bag, but his hand knocked over a carton of chocolate milk. It splashed everywhere, soaking into his orange hoodie like dark betrayal.

"Shit," Marcus whispered, his face burning hotter than the embarrassment itself.

Jordan laughed. Not mean laughter—the genuine kind that crinkled his eyes. "Dude, that's straight-up tragic. But also kind of impressive? You nailed the splash radius perfectly."

Then Marcus caught Jordan's gaze flicker to his own teeth. Oh god. OH GOD. The spinach from his morning smoothie. It had been camping out between his front teeth this ENTIRE TIME.

"Spinach," Jordan said, gesturing to his own teeth. "Since second period. I didn't want to be that guy, but—"

"BULLSHIT," Marcus blurted, then covered his mouth. "Sorry, I mean—you knew? And you didn't say anything?"

"I was giving you an out!" Jordan protested, but he was smiling. "But also, you kind of made it easy."

Marcus wanted to die. But then lightning flashed again, and Jordan's phone buzzed with a weather alert. "Wanna bail? My house has better snacks and actual coffee."

Marcus's heart did something complicated. "Your parents won't mind?"

"Please. My mom thinks you're the one who got me into indie bands. She's been waiting for me to bring you over forever."

As they shouldered backpacks and ducked into the rain, Marcus's orange hoodie dripped chocolate milk, his teeth probably still had spinach remnants, and he'd never been happier.