The Spinach Incident

Mateo stood at the edge of the court, racket in hand, watching Sofia crush a padel shot against the wall like she'd been playing since birth. His dad's stupid pyramid scheme—something about 'revolutionary fitness supplements'—had somehow landed him here, at the country club he couldn't afford, pretending to be someone he wasn't.

That's when he noticed it: a piece of bright green spinach wedged between Sofia's front teeth.

"You got something, uh—" Mateo gestured vaguely at his own mouth, face burning.

Sofia blinked, then her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my god. How long?"

"Just now."

"That's so embarrassing." She laughed though, weirdly casual about it. "My mom made this kale-spinach smoothie thing. Said it's a total pyramid of nutrients or whatever. Honestly? Bullshit. But she's been on this health kick since..."

She caught herself, but the crack in her armor had already showed. Mateo got it suddenly—the perfect girl with the expensive padel lessons and the effortless backhand had her own stuff going on.

"My dad's doing this whole pyramid scheme thing," Mateo found himself saying. "That's why I'm even here. He made me sign up for lessons to 'network.' Like that's not the most awkward thing ever."

Sofia's eyes widened. "Wait—your dad's the supplement guy?"

Mateo groaned. "Please don't tell me you've heard of him."

"Everyone's heard of him." She grinned, and it was genuine this time. "He tried to sell my mom these protein shakes. She said they tasted like chalk."

"They absolutely do."

"Wanna hit some balls? Since we're both here against our will?"

"Yeah," Mateo said, and for the first time all summer, something felt actually okay. "Yeah, I do."

Neither of them mentioned the spinach again, but Sofia didn't rush to the bathroom either. Some things, Mateo learned, could just exist. You didn't have to fix everything perfect all the time.