The Spy Who Loved Salad

Maya had been spying on the popular table for weeks now. Not like, creepy spying—just casual, strategic observation from her usual spot near the trash cans. She was basically conducting field research on how normal teenagers functioned. Her best friend Riya called it "low-key stalking." Maya called it "social intelligence gathering."

The problem wasn't that she couldn't talk to people. It was that every time she opened her mouth, something ridiculous happened. Like last week, when she'd spent three days explaining that no, her name wasn't "Spinach Girl," just because she'd brought spinach salad to lunch every day since freshman year. The nickname had stuck harder than the actual spinach to her braces back in eighth grade. Now even the teachers called her that.

"You're staring again," Riya whispered, sliding into the seat across from her. "Just go talk to them already."

Maya's heart did that thing where it forgot how to heart. "I can't. They're in a different ecosystem. They're like... cheetahs. I'm basically a moss-covered rock."

"You're a moss-covered rock with great hair," Riya said loyally. "And you've been binge-watching Spy Kids since we were twelve, so technically you're trained in covert operations."

That's when IT happened. Lucas, the human equivalent of a golden retriever, caught her eye. And smiled. And started walking over.

Panic. Absolute panic. Maya's brain went into emergency mode, which apparently meant frantically shoving a massive forkful of spinach into her mouth to hide. But the spinach was old. Slightly slimy. It didn't want to be eaten. It wanted to be a spectacle.

It draped dramatically over her chin. One piece committed suicide by sliding onto her white shirt.

"Hey, Spinach Girl," Lucas said, suddenly standing at their table. His smile faltered. "That's... that's a lot of green."

Maya couldn't speak. She could barely bear to exist in this moment. She was going to have to change her name. Move to another country. Live as a hermit in the mountains.

"I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to sit with us sometime," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know, if you want. You seem... interesting."

She finally managed to swallow. "I'd like that. When I'm not wearing my lunch as fashion."

His laugh was actual sunshine. "Tomorrow, then. Without the spinach accessorizing?"

"Deal," she said, and when he walked away, Riya was already plotting their wedding. Maya just smiled, still feeling like she'd somehow survived a bear attack and gotten asked to dance in the same ten seconds. Her undercover work was done. The mission, against all odds, was complete.