Bear in the Water

My hair was a disaster. I'd spent forty-five minutes trying to curl it perfectly for Tyler's pool party, but the humidity had already turned my carefully styled waves into something resembling a frizzy explosion. I stood outside his front door, clutching my grandmother's papaya salad like a shield, seriously considering bailing.

"You got this," I whispered to myself. "You're not the same girl who hid in the bathroom at the seventh grade dance."

But my palms were sweating, and my heart did this nervous flutter thing that made me feel like I might throw up. This wasn't just any party – this was THE party. The one everyone would be talking about on Monday. The one where HAYLEY MARTIN would be there, looking effortlessly perfect in whatever bikini she'd apparently been growing into since birth.

I pushed open the door and followed the sound of splashing and laughter to the backyard. The moment I stepped onto the patio, conversations paused. Eyes flicked toward me. My stomach did a full gymnastics routine.

"Hey!" Tyler waved from the pool. "Maya's here! You made it!"

I forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry I'm late. I, uh, brought papaya salad. My grandma made it." Silence. Why had I brought the papaya salad? WHO BRINGS PAPAYA SALAD TO A TEEN POOL PARTY?

"That's actually amazing," said a girl I didn't recognize, pushing her sunglasses up. "I'm literally obsessed with papaya. Is that the Thai style with the lime and chilies?"

"Yeah!" I said, relieved. "I can show you where it is if you want – "

"ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!" My little brother Chase burst through the back gate, face smeared with my mascara, groaning like the undead and limping dramatically toward the food table. He'd done his makeup with all the skill of a kindergartener finger painting.

Everyone froze. Then someone screamed – playfully – and suddenly Chase was being chased by half the party while he stumbled around moaning for brains. The tension I'd carried in my shoulders dissolved into laughter.

"Your brother is iconic," someone said. "10 out of 10, no notes."

"That's Chase," I shook my head, grinning. "Professional zombie."

The girl who'd asked about the papaya sidled up to me as I watched the chaos unfold. "I'm Jade, by the way. And seriously, that papaya salad? I'm not even kidding when I say I need that recipe. My abuela makes something similar and I'm dying to compare notes."

"Deal," I said. "But only if you help me get some before your zombie brother contaminates it."

She laughed. "Obviously. Team Papaya For Life."

Later, after the papaya had been declared 'actually fire' by multiple people and Chase had been thoroughly sprayed with the hose until he looked less like the walking dead and more like a drowned rat, I found myself floating in the pool with Jade and a few others, watching the sunset paint the sky in brilliant pinks and oranges.

"So," Jade said, splashing water at me. "We doing this again next weekend? Hayley's having a bonfire."

"Definitely," I said, and for the first time all day, I didn't feel like I was faking it. The frizzy hair didn't matter. The papaya salad had been a hit. Chase had somehow made himself cool by accident. And somewhere between the zombie invasion and the twilight swimming, I'd made actual friends.

Maybe this whole high school thing wouldn't be so scary after all. As long as I had papaya and a brother willing to publicly embarrass himself for comedic effect, I'd be fine. A girl could do worse than that.