The Spinach Incident

Maya had spent forty-five minutes curating her feed before the party—strategic selfies from five different angles, three outfit changes, and an aesthetic photo of her sneakers against the pavement. Her iPhone was basically an extension of her arm at this point, a digital shield against the terrifying possibility of awkward silence.

Now she was wedged into a corner of Jordan's basement, holding a red solo cup like it contained the antidote to social suicide. The air smelled like cheap body spray and desperation. Maya scrolled through her timeline, spying on everyone else's apparently amazing lives. Chloe was at some bonfire looking effortlessly gorgeous. Marcus had posted a mirror selfie with the caption "living my best life." Meanwhile, Maya was third-wheeling harder than a spare tire at a wedding.

"Hey."

Maya nearly dropped her phone. It was Jordan himself, leaning against the wall next to her with that infuriatingly easy confidence that made her stomach do weird gymnastics.

"Hey," she managed, sounding like she'd inhaled helium.

"You're spying on everyone from the sidelines again, aren't you?" His grin was lopsided. "I saw you doing it at homecoming too."

Maya felt her face burn. "I'm not—"

"It's cool. I do it too." He gestured at the room. "Everyone's performing. It's exhausting. Sometimes you gotta just... not."

They stood there for a moment, the bass from the speakers vibrating through the floor. Maya's stomach growled loud enough to startle both of them.

"Hungry?" Jordan raised an eyebrow.

"Starving. I haven't eaten all day because I was too busy—" she stopped herself. "You know what? Never mind."

"Well, you're in luck." He led her toward the food table, which was basically a monument to teenage nutrition: chips, more chips, and a sad-looking veggie platter with ranch dressing. "My mom insisted on the spinach stuff. Said she didn't want everyone surviving on processed garbage alone."

The spinach dip looked innocent enough. Maya helped herself, trying to play it cool, eat like a normal human being who didn't overthink every bite.

"You've got a little—" Jordan reached toward her face, and Maya froze. His finger brushed the corner of her mouth. "Yeah. Spinach in your teeth."

She wanted to die. Actually die. Just evaporate into the basement air and never exist again.

But Jordan was laughing. Not at her—with her. "I did the exact same thing last week at lunch with Emma. She let me walk around with green teeth for THREE PERIODS, Maya. Three."

Maya started giggling. She couldn't help it. The absurdity of it all, the months of spying on Jordan's Instagram posts, the carefully curated aesthetic, and here she was with spinach in her teeth like a total dork. And he was just... okay with it.

"Your secret's safe with me," he said, grabbing a chip. "But only if you promise to stop watching from the sidelines. The view's better from inside the chaos."

Maya looked at her iPhone, dark and silent in her hand, then back at Jordan. She set it on the table behind them.

"Deal."