The Spinach Incident

Maya's phone buzzed. Party at Jake's. Parents gone.

She'd been crushing on Jake since seventh period algebra, when he'd let her copy homework without asking questions. Now sophomore year, she finally had an in—but her mom had other ideas.

"You're not going anywhere until you finish this **spinach** salad," Mom said, stabbing at the bowl like it had personally offended her. "It's good for your brain. You need all the help you can get."

"Thanks, Mom. Really boosting my confidence before the biggest social event of the month."

Maya forced down the rabbit food, threw on her favorite vintage **orange** hoodie—zippers up the sleeves, very 90s—and headed out, heart doing that familiar flutter thing it always did when Jake was within a fifty-mile radius.

Jake's house was already packed when she arrived. The smell of cheap body spray and uncertainty hung heavy in the air. Someone had brought a **dog**—some golden retriever puppy that was currently destroying a slipper while everyone cooed like it was performing brain surgery.

Jake appeared beside her, holding a red cup. "Hey, Maya. Glad you made it."

"Hey." Smooth. She was absolutely crushing it.

"My sister's here," he continued, nodding toward a girl sitting on the couch with the world's grumpiest **cat** draped across her shoulders like a furry stole. "She goes to college now. She's basically a genius."

The cat stared at Maya with what she could only describe as existential judgment.

"Cool," Maya managed. "College sounds... intense."

"Yeah, she's studying to be a veterinarian." Jake's face lit up. "Actually, she told me about this program where you can work with animals, like, therapeutically. For people dealing with stuff."

"That's actually really interesting," Maya said, and meant it.

"Right?" He stepped closer. "Hey, you have something in your—" He gestured at his own teeth, mortification washing over his face.

Maya froze. The **spinach**. Of course.

She ducked into the bathroom, scrubbed until her gums felt raw, and emerged to find Jake waiting. He held out his phone.

"So, I was thinking," he said, "maybe you could help me with this bio project? Since you're good at algebra and stuff. And I could help you with—anything. If you wanted."

Maya's heart did that flutter thing again. But this time, it felt different. More solid.

"I'd like that," she said.

Outside, the neighborhood **bull**—Mr. Henderson's escaped prize steer—wandered past the window, blinking at the party like it was the weirdest thing it had seen all day. Which, to be fair, it probably was.

Maya laughed. Jake laughed. And for the first time all night, everything felt exactly right.