The Spinach Protocol

Jordan's palms were sweating through their pockets — gross, but also very on brand for a Tuesday. Three rows back in AP Bio, Kai was laughing with his friends, that effortless laugh that made Jordan's chest do backflips. Today was the day. Jordan would finally talk to him. Like, actual words. Not just awkward eye contact across the classroom.

Lunch should've been safe territory. Jordan sat with their usual crew, nursing a singular trauma: the cafeteria's alleged "spinach" salad, which was mostly brown lettuce and sadness. But Jordan's friend Sam had been going through it lately — parents divorcing, moving across town next month — and Jordan owed them solid friendship energy. So Jordan nodded along as Sam vented about their ex, trying to be supportive while simultaneously checking if Kai was still at his table.

He was. Looking right at Jordan.

Jordan's stomach launched into full revolt. They took a massive bite of spinach salad as a distraction tactic, because their brain had clearly short-circuited. Sam made some joke that was actually funny, and Jordan laughed — really laughed, head thrown back, zero chill.

That's when they felt it. Something stuck between their front teeth. The Braces Situation, now upgraded to emergency status.

Jordan's phone buzzed. A notification from the class group chat: someone had posted a picture from lunch. Two seconds later, Jordan's friend Maya DM'd: "Babe. Your teeth. I'm so sorry."

The photo was brutal: Jordan, mid-laugh, with a very noticeable piece of bright green spinach wedged in their braces. Kai was in the background, definitely looking.

Jordan wanted to evaporate. Instead, they did the only logical thing: they stalked Kai's Instagram story. No screenshot. No reaction. Just him eating a sandwich, captioned "why is school food like this."

Relief crashed over Jordan like a wave. He hadn't even noticed. Maybe cared enough to notice.

Sam texted: "Thanks for listening to me spiral today. You're a real friend."

Jordan stared at their reflection in their phone screen, carefully picking the spinach from their teeth with their tongue. Whatever. It was just spinach. It was just high school. They'd survive.