Fox, Fruit, and Friday Night

My hair looked like a highlighter exploded. I'd spent two hours trying to perfect that effortless messy-waves look tutorial, but somehow ended up looking like I'd stuck my finger in an electrical socket. "You look fine, Lucas," my sister called from her room, but she wasn't the one going to Mia's party.

Nobody called me Lucas anyway. Everyone called me Fox because apparently I had "sly eyes" or whatever Jenna decided in seventh grade. The nickname stuck like glitter on a craft project.

I pulled out my phone to spy on Mia's Instagram story again. She'd posted something ten minutes ago — a blurry photo of drinks with the caption "pre-game vibes." Classic. My thumb hovered over her profile like it did every five minutes. Pathetic? Maybe. But when you're sixteen and your crush has been your lab partner since September, you develop certain habits.

The party was already packed when I got there. Someone's older brother had bought a ridiculous amount of sparkling cider and weird snacks. I spotted Mia immediately. She was wearing that oversized green sweater that made her look cozy and effortless and everything I wasn't.

Then I saw the papaya.

It sat there on the kitchen counter like an alien artifact among the chips and salsa. "My mom went to that specialty market," someone explained. "It's supposed to be exotic."

Mia picked it up, squinting at it like it might bite. "What even IS this?"

"Papaya," I said, and my voice came out weird. "It's... my grandma eats it. For digestion." Why did I say that? Why was my entire existence a continuous stream of saying the wrong thing?

But Mia laughed. Not mean-laughed. Actually laughed. "Fox," she said. "You're so random."

My heart did that stupid fluttery thing. She called me Fox. She knew my name.

Then Tyler appeared behind her. You know Tyler — the kind of guy who walks into a room and suddenly the air gets ten degrees more annoying. "What's with the fruit?" He made a face. "Looks like something died."

"It's papaya," I said, before my brain could stop me. "You'd know that if you ever ate anything that didn't come from a drive-thru."

Silence. Like, *dead* silence. Jenna made that sound that's half-gasp half-choked laugh. Tyler stared at me.

And then Mia was laughing. Not polite laughing. Actually, genuinely laughing. She was doubled over, holding her stomach, gasping for air. "Oh my GOD, Fox."

"What?" I asked, but I was grinning now too.

"The way you said it —" She wiped tears from her eyes. "You looked so serious."

"I was being serious. Papaya's serious business."

"You're ridiculous." She grabbed my wrist. "Come on. We're gonna dissect this alien fruit together."

We ended up on the back porch, eating papaya slices and making fun of Tyler's Instagram captions. My hair was still a disaster. I was still awkward Fox who said weird things about tropical fruit. But sitting there while Mia wiped sticky juice from her chin and complained about her chemistry teacher, I thought maybe being ridiculous wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Maybe ridiculous was exactly where I needed to be.