The Summer I Spinached It

Mario's Pizza Palace wasn't exactly where seventeen-year-old Jay saw himself spending July, but here he was, wearing the most ridiculous hat in existence—a neon green visor that screamed 'I have given up on dignity.' The hat was mandatory, according to Sheila, the manager who'd been working there since the Stone Age.

"Spinach, Jay. More spinach," Sheila barked, pointing to the sad pile of green leaves on the prep station. "The spinach goes in the vegetarian special. Don't be stingy."

Jay nodded, already sweating through his uniform. His friends were probably at the beach right now, or at least somewhere with functioning air conditioning and dignity. Meanwhile, he was here, arguing with spinach.

The cable at home had been cut yesterday—his mom's 'creative budgeting solution' which meant no WiFi, no streaming, and most importantly, no connection to Maya, the girl he'd been talking to all spring. Their Snapchat streak had died a tragic death at 187 days, and he'd been too embarrassed to explain he'd become that guy who couldn't even afford internet.

"Hey, green visor guy," said a voice from the counter. Jay looked up to see Maya herself, standing there with two of her friends, looking effortlessly cool in cutoffs and a band tee. His heart did something embarrassing and acrobatic.

"Maya? What are you—"

"Ordering pizza, obviously." She grinned. "You look ridiculous."

"Occupational hazard," Jay managed, gesturing to his hat with spinach-stained hands. "Occupational spinach, too, apparently."

Her friends ordered, but Maya lingered. "So, I see why you've been MIA. My streak died, by the way. RIP."

"Cable got cut," he admitted, feeling weirdly relieved to just say it. "Budget cuts. I'm basically living in 1997 over here."

Maya considered this. "I have cable. And a TV. And my parents are never home on Fridays. Movie night? You can tell me about all the spinach drama."

Jay's face burned, but in a good way. "I'd like that."

"Cool." She paused. "Also, lose the hat first."

"Deal."

As she walked out, Jay went back to his spinach, smiling. Maybe this summer wouldn't be so terrible after all.