The Spinach Incident

Maya's palms were sweating. Literally dripping. She wiped them on her jeans for the third time, leaving dark streaks on the denim, which honestly was just making everything worse.

"You good?" Marcus asked, leaning against the garage door. He had that lazy smile that made her stomach do weird flip-flop things. He was twirling a **baseball** between his fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world, which for him, it probably was. Marcus had been the star pitcher since seventh grade, while Maya had spent that same time period mastering the art of blending into lockers.

"Yeah," Maya said. "Totally. Just..."

"Nervous about the party?" He grinned. "Don't be. Everyone's gonna be chill."

Maya's phone buzzed in her pocket. Her **iPhone**, aka her actual lifeline. She pulled it out—three texts from Jenna, each one increasingly dramatic about how Maya NEEDED to come to Tyler's house tonight or she would literally die. Maya had been dodging this party for weeks because parties meant people and people meant conversations and conversations meant her brain would 404 and she'd say something weird.

But Marcus was going. And Marcus had smiled at her in chem lab yesterday.

She checked her reflection in the darkened garage window. Her hair looked okay. Her outfit was fine. Then she noticed it—"Oh my GOD."

"What?" Marcus stepped closer.

"Is there..." Maya covered her mouth with her hand. "Spinach. Is there spinach in my teeth? I had that salad for lunch and I've been smiling at you for twenty minutes with spinach in my teeth, haven't I?"

Marcus leaned in, really close. Like, close enough that she could see the tiny gold flecks in his eyes. "I don't see anything."

"You're lying to be nice. That's worse."

"Maya." He laughed, and it was this warm sound that made her want to melt into the concrete floor. "There's no spinach. You look great. Actually, you always look great."

Her brain short-circuited. "Oh."

"So," Marcus said, "want to head over? Jenna's been texting me too. Something about how Tyler's parents are out of town and they have an insane **cable** package for the TV."

Maya's palms had stopped sweating. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

She didn't mention that Jenna had probably texted Marcus like three times total, ever. She didn't mention that her hands were still shaking a little. She just walked toward his car, and when he held the passenger door open, she thought maybe—just maybe—she could actually do this. The party. The talking. The whatever-was-happening-with-Marcus thing.

"Your phone's gonna blow up when we get there," he said, starting the engine.

Maya smiled. She didn't even check her teeth first.