The Spinach Incident

Maya was running late. Again. The school bell had already rung, echoing through the hallway like a judgment, when she burst through the cafeteria doors, heart pounding. Her phone clung to its final 3%—the charging cable had mysteriously vanished from her backpack that morning, probably stolen by her little brother.

She spotted Jace at their usual table and speed-walked over, trying to look cool despite being out of breath. Jace. The guy she'd been crushing on since seventh grade, now sitting there in his vintage band tee, looking effortless while she felt like a mess.

"Hey," she managed, sliding into the seat across from him. "Sorry, my mom made this smoothie with, like, actual spinach—" She gestured vaguely at her face, then froze.

Jace stared at her. Then he grinned. "You have something..." He pointed at his own front teeth.

Oh god. THE spinach. Bright green, definitely wedged between her two front teeth for who knew how long. For how many classes? For how many conversations?

"I'll be right back," Maya choked out, grabbing her water bottle and speed-walking to the bathroom, wishing she could evaporate.

She spent twenty minutes in there, scrubbing her teeth until her gums ached, staring at her reflection. Why was high school so hard? Why did everything feel like such a big deal? A piece of spinach in her teeth felt like a social death sentence, but rationally she knew nobody would remember this next week. Probably.

When she finally emerged, Jace was waiting outside. His dog—a scruffy terrier mix named Buster—was on a leash beside him. The dog tugged forward, sniffing Maya's shoes enthusiastically.

"Buster likes you," Jace said, shrugging. "He's usually suspicious of strangers."

"Lucky me," Maya muttered, still mortified.

"So," Jace said, scratching the back of his neck. "My friend is having a party Friday. You should come. If you want. No pressure."

Maya looked up, surprised. "Really? After the spinach situation?"

Jace laughed. "That was adorable, honestly. Better than trying too hard."

She felt something inside her unknot. Maybe authenticity wasn't the worst strategy. Maybe being a mess sometimes was okay.

"I'll be there," she said, and for the first time all day, she actually smiled.