Electric Papaya

Maya's palms were sweating legit actual puddles, which was gross, but also — transfer student problems, right?

"You good?" asked Quinn, the most effortlessly cool human at North Beach High, who'd somehow decided to invite the new girl to the pre-game beach bonfire.

"Yeah, just my mom made me take this vitamin D supplement because apparently 'California sun isn't enough' and now I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

Quinn laughed. It was a good laugh. Not mean. "My mom's the same way with the gluten-free thing. It's a whole vibe."

The bonfire crackled. Someone offered Maya fruit on a paper plate. She'd never had papaya before — her family was more of a 'bananas and apples' household — but she wasn't about to be That Girl who turned down food at a party. She took a bite.

Wrong move.

It tasted like someone had crossed a melon with foot cheese.

Her face did something treasonous. Quinn caught it.

"Yeah, papaya is... controversial." Quinn's eyes danced. "First time?"

"Is it that obvious?" Maya felt herself flushing. "I thought it was gonna taste like tropical paradise or something."

"Nah, that's a marketing scam." Quinn passed her a water bottle. "Here. Also, for what it's worth, I'm glad you came. Sarah said you were in her English lit class and you actually talk about the books."

The words hit Maya like actual lightning — sudden, bright, electricity running through her chest. Someone noticed her? Someone wanted her here?

"I — yeah, I love that class."

"Cool." Quinn bumped her shoulder. "Maybe you can sit with us at lunch Monday. If you want."

The storm started then, real this time, lightning cracking the sky open over the ocean. Everyone scrambled for cover. Maya ended up pressed against Quinn under a beach umbrella, both of them soaked and laughing.

"So," Quinn said, as thunder rolled. "Papaya: zero stars. But this? This is okay?"

Maya's heart was doing something genuinely embarrassing. "Yeah," she said. "This is okay."