The Spinach Incident

Maya stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, hat pulled low over her forehead. Not cool enough. She adjusted it, then adjusted again. The snapback was supposed to be her armor, her transformation-from-awkward-freshman-to-sophomore-with-swag gear, but mostly it just made her look like she was trying too hard.

Her iPhone buzzed on the counter. A text from Kai: at the coffee shop. u coming???

Maya's stomach did that stupid flutter thing it always did when she thought about Kai. Which was constantly. She grabbed her phone, thumbs flying as she typed: on my way!!! had to help mom with something

Technically true. Her mom had made her attempt actual cooking—a health kick, new recipe phase, whatever—and now Maya smelled like garlic and something green. She'd practically been sprinting around the kitchen like a contestant on a cooking show, burning the spinach while trying to be all Food Network graceful.

Wait. The spinach.

Maya leaned toward the mirror, parting her lips and staring. A tiny, bright green piece of spinach, wedged defiantly between her front teeth. Of course. OF COURSE. She'd spent forty-five minutes perfecting her eyeliner, picking the outfit that said effortless but not try-hard, memorizing three different conversation openers that didn't sound completely awkward, and now she was going to show up looking like she'd been grazing in a field.

She tried picking it out with her fingernail. Nope. Tried with a Q-tip. Still stuck. The buzzing continued—more texts from Kai. Maya grabbed her backpack and bolted out the door, literally running down the sidewalk because being late was somehow less humiliating than walking in with spinach teeth and no game plan.

The coffee shop smelled like cinnamon andWiFi. Kai sat by the window, phone in hand, wearing that hat Maya had complimented once, so he wore it every time they hung out now. Which was adorable but also Maya was emotionally constipated and couldn't deal with it.

He spotted her, waved. "Hey! You okay? You're like, super flushed."

Maya's brain short-circuited. "Yeah, just... running here. You know how it is."

"Literally running?" Kai's eyebrows shot up. "That's dedication."

She slid into the booth across from him, heart hammering. What now? Abort mission? Pretend to suddenly care deeply about the origins of espresso?

"So I wanted to tell you something," Kai said, setting down his phone.

Maya's stomach dropped. Here it came. The friend speech. The I-see-you-as-a-sister talk. The slow emotional death.

"Okay," she squeaked.

"I've been waiting for the right time, but—"

Kai paused. Maya held her breath. The espresso machine hissed like it was laughing at her.

"You have spinach in your teeth."

Maya froze. Then she started laughing. Hard. The kind of laugh that makes your abs hurt and other people stare and you don't even care because what even was her life.

"I KNOW," she gasped. "I've been trying to get it out since I left my house. I literally ran here anyway because I didn't want to be late but also I'm a disaster."

Kai was grinning now. "That's honestly kind of awesome though. Like, most people would've cancelled. You just went for it. Spinach and all."

Maya's face hurt from smiling. "That's one way to look at it."

"Here." He slid a napkin across the table. "Fix it. I'll pretend I didn't see anything."

Maya wiped the spinach away, feeling lighter somehow. The hat still wasn't cool enough, she was still emotionally constipated, and she'd definitely just had the most awkward moment of her life.

But Kai was still sitting there, grinning at her like she was the best part of his day.

Spinach disaster or not, maybe that was enough.