Goldfish & Papaya Summer

Maya's mom said the hair was 'expressive,' but that wasn't the word running through Maya's head when she showed up to camp with what was supposed to be subtle caramel highlights and ended up looking like she'd dipped her head in a bucket of gold paint.

At least no one noticed. Everyone was too busy obsessing over Jake, who sat at the bonfire last night feeding dried papaya to his pet goldfish in a mason jar like it was totally normal behavior.

'That's not even legal,' whispered Chloe, Maya's bunkmate, who had appointed herself as Maya's social coach for the summer. 'You can't just keep goldfish in a jar. Also, his hair is perfect and yours is... an adventure.'

Maya ducked behind the salad bar at lunch, literally and figuratively hiding. She'd accidentally gotten a massive piece of spinach stuck between her front teeth during first period, and now her social life was effectively over before it began.

Then she heard it—the rumors about the bear.

Some campers swore they'd seen one near the lake. Others said it was just a counselor in a furry mascot costume. Either way, the晚间 hikes were cancelled until further notice, which meant everyone was crowded into the rec hall playing dodgeball and making awkward conversation.

Jake wandered over to where Maya was sitting alone, strategically positioning herself near the exit. 'Your hair looks sick,' he said, and Maya nearly choked on her own spit. 'Like, actually sick. In a good way. You got that going for you.'

'Thanks,' she managed, removing the spinach situation with her tongue when he wasn't looking. 'Your goldfish is cool.'

'His name is Papaya,' said Jake. 'Because he's kind of orange and also I like papayas. You want to help me find him a better tank? I feel like a monster keeping him in that jar.'

And just like that, Maya had her first summer plan that didn't involve hiding in bathrooms or faking phone calls.

They liberated Papaya the goldfish into the camp's decorative pond (totally against rules, but whatever) and then Jake taught Maya how to properly eat a papaya without looking like she'd never encountered tropical fruit before.

'My hair is a disaster,' she admitted later, sitting on the dock with her feet in the water.

'Nah,' said Jake. 'It's got character. Like how my fish was named after fruit. It doesn't have to make sense. It just has to be yours.'

Maya touched her gold-streaked hair and smiled. Maybe perfect wasn't the point. Maybe the point was finding someone who didn't care about the spinach stuck in your teeth because they were too busy telling you about their goldfish named after tropical fruit.

The bear sightings turned out to be a raccoon with a particularly fluffy tail. Maya's hair grew out. But she never forgot the summer she learned that sometimes the weirdest things about you were exactly what made you worth knowing.