The Spinach Incident

Marcus stared at his reflection, fingers hovering over the disaster zone that was his hair. The barber had promised a trim, not a complete architectural reconstruction of his head. Now he looked like a frightened hedgehog. Exactly what he needed before his first day at Northwood High.

"You'll be fine," his mom called from the kitchen. "Fresh start, remember?"

Fresh start. Right. That's what she'd said when they moved three towns over for her new job. What she didn't mention was that being the new kid in tenth grade was basically social suicide, especially with hair that defied gravity.

At lunch, Marcus spotted an empty table and made a tactical retreat toward it. But he was intercepted by a girl with streaks of blue in her dark hair and a smile that seemed genuinely amused by his existence.

"New kid?" She slid into the seat across from him. "I'm Zara."

"Marcus."

"Nice hair. Bold choice."

"Not my choice," he muttered. "Barber betrayed me."

Zara laughed. "Hey, you should come to the padel courts after school. We're getting a game together. You play?"

"Padel?" Marcus blinked. "Never heard of it."

"It's like tennis but cooler. Smaller court, walls are in play." She studied him. "You look like you might have some hand-eye coordination."

"I played baseball," Marcus offered. "Back in Springfield."

"Oh! So you can actually hit things then. Perfect."

After school, Marcus found himself at the courts with Zara and her friends. His hair attracted immediate commentary, but Zara defended it with something about "maximizing aerodynamic efficiency." Padel turned out to be chaotic and fun—he actually forgot to be self-conscious for twenty whole minutes.

They grabbed smoothies afterward. Marcus was mid-sentence about his baseball coach back home when Zara's eyes went wide.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, "just... you've got a little..." She gestured vaguely at her own teeth.

Marcus's stomach dropped. He grabbed his phone camera and there it was: a bright green piece of spinach wedged between his front teeth, visible from space, probably there since lunch. He'd been talking for hours. Zara had watched him charm her entire friend group with a green decoration in his smile.

"How long?" he groaned.

"Since the smoothie place."

"You knew?"

"I was waiting to see if you'd notice," she admitted. "Also, it was kind of charming. Like you didn't care what anyone thought."

Marcus stared at her, then started laughing. What else could he do? Between the hair and the spinach and the new school, his dignity was already in shreds.

"So," Zara said, "same time tomorrow? More padel, more spinach?"

"Definitely padel," Marcus said. "I'll handle the spinach situation."

"Deal." She grinned. "Welcome to Northwood, Hedgehog."