Papaya Bull

Maya's hair was a disaster. The DIY sunset orange dye job she'd attempted last night had turned her curls into what her little brother called 'radioactive Cheeto fuzz.' She spent forty minutes with a beanie pulled low, agonizing over whether to even show up to the town fair.

'Dude, you look fine,' Tyler texted, but Tyler had been her friend since kindergarten and was legally required to say that.

The papaya stand wasn't even Maya's idea. Her aunt had roped her into manning the booth while she went to 'network' with the other vendors. Maya stood behind stacks of the fruit—green on the outside, bright orange inside, kind of how her hair was supposed to look—and felt like everyone was staring.

'This looks so good,' a girl said, walking up with her friends. All popular. All with perfect hair.

Maya's hands shook as she scooped the papaya into a cup. The girl's phone buzzed. 'Oh my god, there's literally a bull loose by the parking lot.'

'No way,' her friend said. 'That's such bull.'

'Seriously, my brother just posted it. It escaped from the petting zoo.'

They ran off, forgetting their papaya. Maya watched them go, then something caught her eye—a massive shape moving between the concession stands. People were screaming, laughing, pulling out phones. An actual bull, young and confused, trotting past the funnel cake booth like he owned the place.

Maya didn't think. She grabbed the sweetest, ripest papaya from the display and vaulted over the counter.

'Hey there, big guy,' she said, crouching low as the animal skidded to a stop. 'You want a snack?' She held out the fruit. The bull sniffed, its nostrils flaring. 'It's basically nature's candy.'

It took the papaya gently, chomping down. Maya stood there, her ridiculous hair wild in the wind, feeding a runaway bull tropical fruit in the middle of the county fair, and finally—finally—laughed until her sides hurt. Tyler appeared next to her, out of breath, phone raised.

'You're literally going viral,' he said, showing her the screen. '#PapayaGirl'

Maya took off her beanie. The orange curls caught the sunlight, bright and impossible and perfect.