The Night I Didn't Die (Socially, Anyway)

I felt like a **zombie**. Not the cool Netflix kind with plot armor and character development — more like the actual dead-inside variety, running on three hours of sleep and sheer panic about tonight.

Homecoming.

Freshman year. Need I say more?

"You're going to be FINE," my best friend Kai said for the eightieth time, adjusting his tie in the mirror. "You look fresh. The fit is fire. Stop spiraling."

Easy for him to say. Kai had the social battery of a golden retriever. Meanwhile, I'd been anxious about this dance for approximately four thousand years. My palms were sweating. My stomach was doing full gymnastics routines.

We met up with the group beforehand at Maya's house. Her parents ordered pizza — fancy stuff from that artisanal place downtown. Big mistake. Huge.

I took a bite of something that turned out to be spinach and feta stuffed into a crust, and immediately felt the catastrophe unfold. A piece of **spinach**. Somewhere it shouldn't be. I rushed to the bathroom, flossing like my life depended on it, checking my reflection seventeen times. Cleared. Or so I thought.

We got to the gym. The decorations were honestly impressive — fairy lights everywhere, a fog machine going ham, the DJ spinning tracks that had everyone moving. I spotted Jordan from across the room and my stomach did that thing again.

Jordan. The Jordan.

The one I'd been lowkey crushing on since September.

I started walking over, and then — **LIGHTNING**. Not actual weather (though that would've been on brand). No, I'm talking about that moment when your brain goes fully blank and your body commits social treason at the exact same time.

"Hey!" I said, way too loud. Jordan turned, smiled. I smiled back, saying something witty and charming about the punch.

Or that's what should've happened.

Instead, Kai ghosted up beside me and whispered, "Bro. You have a massive piece of spinach in your teeth. Like, aggressively visible."

I froze. Every worst-case scenario I'd ever imagined about tonight flashed before my eyes. Jordan was still looking at me, waiting for me to say something. Anything.

And then I just... leaned into it.

"My worst enemy," I deadpanned, pointing to my teeth. "Declared war earlier. I'm currently losing."

Jordan laughed. Actual laughter. Not the polite kind. "Happens to the best of us. One time I gave a presentation with lipstick on my teeth for forty-five minutes. Nobody told me until after."

We spent the next hour talking about our most embarrassing moments. Jordan told me about accidentally calling their teacher 'mom' three times in one week. I shared the time I tripped over nothing in front of the entire cafeteria.

By the time slow dance came around, I wasn't a zombie anymore. I was just... me.

And Jordan asked me to dance.

So yeah. Tonight wasn't perfect. I had spinach in my teeth. I sweated through my dress shirt. I definitely said 'uh' too many times.

But somehow, imperfectly, wonderfully, it was everything.