Fox in the Papaya Patch

Maya's cat Luna was practically her only friend since moving to this sterile suburban nightmare three months ago. The orange tabby had more game than Maya did on her best day.

"Just talk to him," whispered Chloe, dragging Maya toward the snack table at Jake's party. "He's been eyeing you all night."

Maya's stomach did backflips. She'd spent forty-five minutes straightening her hair and another thirty debating whether her outfit made her look like she was trying too hard. Obviously, she was.

Jake Miller — varsity soccer captain, consistently voted Most Bangable in the school's anonymous Instagram confessions — was standing by the fruit platter like it was perfectly normal for a sixteen-year-old guy to be hovering over tropical fruit.

"Hey," Maya managed, her voice cracking. Smooth.

"Sup." Jake nodded, then gestured at the papaya wedges like they were alien artifacts. "You ever try this stuff? My mom's obsessed with superfoods lately."

Maya stared. In her house, papaya was just... fruit. Like apples or bananas. But here, it was apparently some exotic conversation starter.

"Yeah," she said, then immediately regretted her flat tone. Fix it, Maya. "I mean, my abuela makes papaya smoothies every Sunday. It's actually fire with lime and chili powder."

Jake's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, that's a thing?"

"Total thing."

He laughed — actually laughed — and Maya felt something in her chest unlatch. "You're gonna have to send me that recipe. Or, like, make it for me sometime?" His ears went slightly pink. "If you want."

Was this happening? The universe had to be pranking her.

Suddenly Luna — her actual cat, who'd somehow slipped out the back door when Maya's mom dropped her off — sauntered into the party like she owned the place. A girl screamed. Someone started filming. Luna bee-lined for the papaya platter and snatched a wedge, bolting toward the woods with her prize.

"Your cat?" Jake asked, grinning.

"That's a fox," someone else called out. "Look at that ginger fox go!"

Maya's face burned. But Jake was already running after Luna, papaya wedge forgotten.

"Come on!" he shouted back. "Let's go catch your... fox!"

Chloe shoved Maya forward. "GO!"

So she ran, chasing her cat and the boy who'd somehow noticed her, all while wondering when her life had turned into some cheesy coming-of-age movie. Not that she was complaining.