Frizzy Hair & First Dares

Maya's hair had expanded to approximately three times its normal volume in the backyard humidity. A brown frizz halo that screamed I DON'T BELONG HERE.

She clutched her iphone like a lifeline, thumb hovering over Instagram. The pool party photos were already up—everyone looked perfect. Glossy. Effortless.

Meanwhile, Maya sat in the shade wearing a t-shirt over her swimsuit, watching the splash-fest from the safety of a lawn chair.

"Hey!"

It was him—Liam, the guy whose locker was next to hers. Dripping wet, orange swim trunks plastered to his legs. Water droplets tracked down his chest like something out of a movie.

"You're missing it," he said, towel-drying his dark curls. "Water's actually not freezing today."

Maya's brain short-circuited. "I'm good."

"Suit yourself." He grabbed something from the snack table and held it out. "But you have to try this first."

A wedge of papaya, bright orange-fleshed and glistening. The most exotic thing at a table crowded with chips and store-bought cookies.

"What is it?"

"Papaya. Jordan's mom went on some tropical fruit kick." He grinned. "I dare you."

A dare. From Liam. At a pool party where she already felt like the awkward observer.

Maya's heart hammered. She could decline, keep her dignity, stay dry and invisible.

Or she could stop being the girl on the sidelines.

She took the papaya. The first bite was weird—musky-sweet, soft, nothing like she expected. Liam laughed as her face did something complicated.

"Right?!" he said. "It's a whole thing."

Then he was jogging back toward the pool, calling over his shoulder: "Now get in here!"

Something shifted. Maya pulled off her t-shirt. Her frizzy hair could wait. The papaya aftertaste was already fading.

She ran toward the water, orange sunset blazing across the sky, and dove straight into the deep end.