The Spinach Incident

Leo's kitchen looked like a war zone. His dad, nicknamed Bear since forever for his intimidating football coach energy, would absolutely lose it when he saw this mess. But Leo had bigger problems — namely, Maya was coming over in twenty minutes, and he was trying to cook something that didn't come from a freezer.

"You're doing WHAT?" His little sister Chloe hovered near the counter, feeding flakes to her goldfish bowl on the windowsill. "Leo, you burn toast."

"I'm expanding my culinary horizons, okay?" Leo muttered, aggressively chopping spinach. He'd read somewhere that guys who cooked were attractive. He was fifteen, painfully aware that Maya, with her perfect eyeliner and effortless vibe, was way out of his league. But she'd agreed to come over to study, which was basically flirting, right?

That's when Buster, their elderly golden retriever, chose to stumble in. The dog had zero coordination and even less dignity. Buster's tail caught the edge of Chloe's goldfish bowl, sending it crashing to the floor.

"MY GOLDFISH!" Chloe screamed.

Water. Everywhere. Glass shards. One very confused orange fish flopping desperately on the linoleum.

Leo dropped the spinach. His perfect romantic dinner scenario was officially dead. He dropped to his knees, trying to scoop up the fish with bare hands, while Buster barked at the chaos like he'd planned the whole thing.

"I got it, I got it—" Leo's fingers closed around the slippery fish just as the doorbell rang.

Maya stood there holding a biology textbook, taking in the disaster: water everywhere, shattered glass, Leo crouched on the floor holding a dripping fish, spinach scattered like green confetti, and a dog barking its head off.

She didn't run. Instead, she burst out laughing. Not mean laughing — the real kind, where she had to lean against the doorframe.

"Is this a bad time?" she giggled.

Leo's face burned. "I was trying to be domestic," he admitted, still holding the fish.

"Domestic?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "With goldfish rescue operations?"

They ordered pizza. Maya helped him clean up the glass. They studied on the floor while Buster snored between them. And somehow, that was better than any fancy dinner could've been.

Maybe being cool was overrated. Maybe the right person was the one who'd laugh when you held a dripping fish in your kitchen.

"So," Maya said later, twirling a pen. "Next time, maybe skip the spinach."

Leo grinned. "Deal."