When Lightning Strikes Your Lunch

The spinach piece clinging to my braces was basically a neon sign screaming 'LOOK AT ME.' I'd spent twenty minutes perfecting my hair, curled just right because JAVIER was finally going to notice me today, and now I looked like a garden salad gone wrong.

The cafeteria smelled like orange cleaner and teenage desperation. I shoved my tray away, pretending I wasn't dying inside, when lightning cracked outside—BAM—the whole room went silent for like three seconds before everyone started screaming about the storm.

'That's Nature saying you should probably check a mirror,' someone said behind me.

I turned around ready to throw hands, and there was Maya, the girl who sat behind me in Bio, holding an actual orange. She peeled it so smoothly, like she was in a commercial or something.

'There's spinach in your braces,' she said, way too casual. 'And your hair looks great, by the way.'

I felt my face burn hotter than the cafeteria pizza. 'Javier's sitting over there.' I nodded toward his table. 'I was gonna...'

Maya raised an eyebrow. 'You were gonna what? Let spinach be your conversation starter? Bold strategy.' She tossed me a segment of orange. 'Here. For courage. Or to distract from the greens.'

The school announcement system crackled. 'All after-school activities cancelled due to severe weather. Students taking the cable car home should report to the main office immediately.'

My phone was dead. Obviously. Because the universe wasn't done yet.

'I can give you a ride,' Maya said. 'Unless you'd rather stay here and explain the spinach situation to Javier.'

Lightning flashed again, closer this time. The power flickered.

'Please,' I said. 'And thanks for the orange. And for saving me from humiliation.'

'Girl, I didn't save you from anything,' Maya laughed as we grabbed our bags. 'I just postponed it. Tomorrow's a new day.'

In her car, with rain pounding on the roof and the orange segment still sticky on my fingers, I realized something: maybe the spinach wasn't a disaster after all. Sometimes the most embarrassing moments are just lightning strikes—totally unexpected, way too bright, but illuminating everything you couldn't see before.

Maya turned up the radio. Some indie song I'd never heard but immediately loved. 'So,' she said over the music. 'What's your deal with Javier anyway?'

'That's a long story,' I said, popping the last of the orange in my mouth. 'But I'm starting to think maybe I've been looking at lightning when I should've been watching for the storm.'

'Okay, poet,' Maya grinned. 'But seriously—we're definitely talking about this on the way home.'