Fox at the Pool Party

The backyard looked like every other Friday night: blue LED strips, TikTok music bumping, and chlorine-scented **water** everywhere. I stood by the snack table, clutching my Tupperware like it was a bomb.

"Is that... papaya?" Sarah asked, making it sound like I'd brought roadkill.

"Yeah." I swallowed. "My mom's obsessed. It's, uh, good for digestion."

Cool, Maya. Really selling it.

I'd already deleted three photos from the group chat. Everyone else showed up with Cheetos and Mountain Dew. I showed up with fruit that looked like alien embryos and smelled like a tropical depression.

"I'll try some," said Jake from calculus, and my stomach did that embarrassing flutter thing. He speared a piece, chewed, and actually smiled. "It's fire though. No cap."

Sarah rolled her eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck. "Whatever. Let's play chicken fight in the pool."

I excused myself to the bathroom, but really I just needed oxygen. The sliding glass door led to the side of the house, where the backyard sloped down toward woods. That's when I saw it—a real-life **fox**, all russet gold and white-tipped tail, sitting on the patio like it owned the place. It held something in its mouth.

Not a rabbit. A papaya wedge. My papaya.

The fox tilted its head, almost acknowledging me, then trotted off into the trees with its prize.

"Did you see that?"

I jumped. Jake stood behind me, towel dripping **water** onto the concrete.

"The fox?" I whispered. "It stole my papaya."

"That's the wildest thing I've ever seen." His eyes were bright, not making fun. "Hey, can I get the rest of that fruit? Before you know who comes back."

We sat on the grass sharing my alien fruit while the party raged inside. Jake told me about his grandma's mango tree. I told him about growing up with parents who didn't do "normal" snacks.

"You know," he said, "normal's overrated. Like, who actually enjoys warm pizza that's been sitting out for four hours?"

The fox reappeared at the tree line, watching us with clever eyes.

"She's got taste," Jake said.

"Yeah," I smiled. "I guess she does."

Inside, Sarah yelled something about a cannonball contest. Jake stood up and offered me his hand.

"You coming? Or you staying with your fox?"

I took it. "Both."