The Vitamin C Conspiracy

Maya's mom stood in the kitchen doorway, waving the orange plastic bottle like it was a weapon of mass destruction. "You're not leaving this house until you take your vitamin."

"Seriously?" Maya checked her phone—7:42 AM. Eight minutes until she'd miss the bus, and definitely not enough time for the vitamin lecture. She dry-swallowed the chalky tablet, gagging slightly. "Done. Can I go now?"

Her mom nodded triumphantly. "And eat your spinach smoothie! It's in the blender!"

Maya grabbed the pre-blended cup from the counter. The green sludge looked like something from a toxic waste dump. "Love you, bye!"

She managed two sips before dumping it in the neighbor's bushes on her way to the bus stop. Whatever. Her mom's health obsession had reached DEFCON levels since her aunt got diagnosed last month. But Maya couldn't deal with another morning of forcing down vegetable smoothies while her friends posted about iced coffees on Snapchat.

The bus ride was its usual chaos—Jake blasting mumble rap through his phone speakers even though the driver literally yelled at him yesterday, Sophia and Chloe whispering dramatically about who hooked up with whom at Tyler's party, and Marcus asleep with his hood over his head.

"Maya!" Sophia slid into the seat next to her. "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" Maya asked, though she already knew something was up by Sophia's manic energy.

"Jordan's been saying all that stuff about you hooking up with Lucas at the party. But you weren't even there!"

Maya's stomach dropped. Jordan—the guy she'd rejected two weeks ago when he tried to slide into her DMs with those cringe-worthy "you up?" messages. "Wait, what?"

"Total bull," Sophia confirmed. "Everyone knows he's just bitter." She lowered her voice. "But like, people are talking."

At lunch, Maya found herself the center of attention she didn't want. Jordan was holding court at a nearby table, dramatically recounting a nonexistent conversation where Maya supposedly confessed her undying love for Lucas.

"So I told him, 'Bro, she's not my type,'" Jordan was saying, loud enough for Maya to hear. "But she kept hitting on me. Had to let her down easy."

Maya's face burned. She pushed her tray away—ironically, cafeteria spinach today—when Marcus slid into the seat across from her.

"You good?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

"Jordan's just... being Jordan," Maya said, surprised Marcus even noticed they existed.

"He's mad 'cause you curved him hard," Marcus said, opening a bag of chips. "It's immature, but whatever. You want me to talk to him?"

Maya shook her head. "No, I got this."

She stood up and walked straight to Jordan's table. Every conversation stopped.

"Jordan," she said, voice steady. "Stop talking about me. None of it happened, and everyone knows it. You're just embarrassing yourself."

Jordan opened his mouth, then closed it. The table went quiet.

"Whatever," he muttered, turning back to his phone.

Walking away, Maya felt something shift. She'd spent weeks worrying about everyone's opinions, letting Jordan's lies eat at her confidence like rust on a car. But facing him? That had felt electric, powerful.

Her phone buzzed. Her mom: "Did you drink your smoothie? Remember, health is wealth!"

Maya smiled. Actually, she kind of felt like a vitamin today—small, unassuming, but somehow necessary. And that green sludge? She'd drink two tomorrow. If she could handle Jordan, she could handle anything.