Leo pushed his bright green broccoli and peas away from the center of his tray. No way, he said, pointing at the vegetables with his fork. Across the table, Maya reached for a red grape and chomped it happily. Leo stared at the sad green pile and slid his tray toward the recycling bin.
He tapped his fork against the tray. Tap. Tap. Tap. The broccoli looked like tiny green trees. His stomach grumbled. He wasn't running on the right kind of fuel.
The next morning in science class, Ms. Chen held up a red apple and a bunch of spinach. Colorful foods are different-colored fuel, she told the class. Leo squinted at the spinach, then at his own hands.
Ms. Chen rubbed the red apple juice and green spinach paste on strips of white paper. The colors spread into bright streaks. Leo leaned forward, his eyes wide as the green paint bleoded across the paper in thick, shimmering ribbons.
'Whoa,' he breathed, reaching out to touch the wet green stripe. It was cool and slippery under his fingertip. The green swirled and curled like a ribbon coming to life.
At lunch the next day, Leo picked up his fork and lifted a piece of broccoli to his mouth. He took a small bite and chewed slowly.
Something sweet and crunchy filled his mouth. The broccoli tasted nothing like he expected — kind of like a tree snack. He took another bite without even thinking about it.
Maya walked over with her tray and froze when she saw the broccoli on his plate. Leo held up another piece and grinned. You have to try this, he said, offering it to her.
Maya took a bite. Her eyes went wide. She chewed. And then she reached for another piece.
Suddenly three more kids were gathered around his table, all reaching for the broccoli. One kid dropped his grape. Another kid laughed. Leo kept handing out pieces.
His tray was empty by the time the bell rang. Leo looked at his empty hands and then at his friends. They were all smiling. So was he.
Leo pushed his chair back and stood up. His body felt ready. He had a feeling tomorrow's lunch would be even better.