Goldfish in the Palm of My Hand

The first day of sophomore year, I made the mistake of wearing my dad's old baseball hat to school. Rookie error. The hat wasn't even cool-retro. It was just retro-retro, like something a dad would wear to a barbecue, which was exactly what it was.

"Nice hat, boomer," Maya called out from her locker, and half the hall laughed. I felt my face burn. I yanked the hat off and shoved it in my backpack, but the damage was done. I was now officially The Hat Guy.

At lunch, the conversation turned to summer adventures. Jordan had spent July at baseball camp. Chloe had traveled to Paris. Me? I'd stayed home and developed an unhealthy obsession with my pet goldfish, Kevin.

"You named your goldfish Kevin?" Maya asked, like I'd just confessed to a crime.

"Kevin's got personality," I mumbled.

"I bet," Jordan said. "Bet he's real exciting."

"Actually," Chloe said, "my cousin in Hawaii sent me some papaya. It's supposed to be this whole experience. You guys want to try it?"

She pulled out this weird, lumpy orange thing from her lunchbox.

"What is it, alien fruit?" Jordan made a face.

"It's papaya," Chloe said. "It's supposed to be amazing."

They all hesitated, like she'd just suggested eating a radioactive spider.

"I'll try it," I said, because apparently I hadn't suffered enough embarrassment for one day.

Chloe sliced it open. The inside was this shockingly bright orange, with these tiny black seeds scattered everywhere like glitter. I took a piece, feeling everyone's eyes on me. I expected it to taste gross, or at least weird.

But it didn't. It was sweet and musky and nothing like anything I'd ever tasted, like summer and secrets all at once.

"Well?" Maya demanded.

"It's actually kind of amazing," I said, surprised.

"Let me try," Jordan said.

Pretty soon, they were all passing around pieces of this alien fruit, making faces and laughing and daring each other to eat the seeds. And I sat there, feeling weirdly proud, like I'd actually done something right for once.

Later, walking home, I passed this palm tree that leaned over the sidewalk like it was tired. I stopped and looked at it, really looked at it, for the first time since I'd moved to this neighborhood three years ago.

I pulled the baseball hat out of my backpack and put it back on. Who cared if it was dorky? Kevin the goldfish had personality. Papaya was amazing. And sometimes the most embarrassing stuff turned out to be the best stuff.

Maybe sophomore year wouldn't be so bad after all.