The Spinach Incident

Marcus stood in front of the bathroom mirror for the tenth time, practicing what he'd say to Chloe at the baseball game tonight. "Hey Chloe, nice... weather?" He groaned. Smooth. Really smooth.

His mom's voice drifted up from downstairs. "Marcus! Your spinach and feta pasta is ready!"

"Not hungry, Mom!" he called back, then immediately regretted it. His stomach betrayed him with a loud growl. Fine. He'd grab a quick bite, brush his teeth for five minutes straight, and still have time to look effortlessly casual when he picked up Chloe.

The pasta sat untouched on his plate. What was he thinking? Asking Chloe to the baseball game like it was no big deal. Chloe, who laughed at his jokes in AP English and wore that vintage denim jacket like she was too cool for everything. The same Chloe who had a perfect smile and probably didn't get spinach stuck in her teeth before first dates.

First dates. Was this even a date? They'd been vague about it. "Sure, I'll go with you" wasn't exactly a declaration of undying love.

He downed three forkfuls of pasta, checked his reflection—green. Why did there have to be spinach in everything? He spent seven minutes scrubbing his teeth, flossing, and inspecting every tooth under harsh bathroom lighting. Safe.

Or so he thought.

He was halfway to Chloe's house when something tickled his nose. His cat, Jupiter, had snuck into his car again—probably because Marcus had left the sunroof open. The orange tabby was now perched on the passenger seat like she owned the place, judging him with those yellow eyes.

"Jupiter, not cool," Marcus whispered, but she just started purring like a tiny engine. He couldn't turn back now. He'd be late. He'd just—she'd stay in the car. No problem.

Except when he pulled up to Chloe's house, Jupiter decided this was her moment to shine. As Marcus leaned across the passenger seat to unlock the door, the cat launched herself onto his lap, and in the chaos, her tail swiped across his face.

He checked the mirror. A piece of spinach. Right there in his front teeth. A time traveler from dinner, resurrected by cat tail physics.

Chloe was walking down her driveway, looking perfect in her flannel and ripped jeans. Marcus scrambled for the glove compartment, found a single napkin from three months ago, and desperately scrubbed at his teeth.

The car door opened.

"Hey Marcus, you good?" Chloe's voice came from right beside him. He froze, napkin still in his mouth.

She laughed—not mean laughing, but actual laughing. Then she reached into her purse, pulled out a compact mirror, and handed it to him. "You had a little something there. But honestly?"

She shrugged, sliding into the passenger seat beside Jupiter, who immediately flopped onto her lap like they were best friends now. Traitor.

"I once went to school with mascara all over my forehead because I fell asleep on the bus," Chloe said, scratching Jupiter behind the ears. "We're all awkward, Marcus. It's part of the charm."

Marcus started the car, feeling something unclench in his chest. The baseball stadium lights glowed in the distance. Jupiter purred. Chloe smiled at him, spinach-free and real.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Born ready," she said, and Marcus believed her.