Papaya Girl

Maya's first day at FoodMart was supposed to be low-key. Just scan groceries, bag items, keep her head down. But when Tyler Evans walked in with his varsity jacket and that effortless smirk she'd been crushing on since seventh grade, everything went sideways.

"Hey, can I get some papaya over here?" Tyler called from the produce section, and Maya literally almost dropped the handheld scanner. Her trainer, old Mr. Henderson, gave her this look like *you got this*.

She grabbed the papaya—why did Tyler even eat papaya?—who even eats papaya when they're sixteen and supposedly cool?

The automatic doors hissed open. Her friends walked in: Chloe, who posted literally everything to Snapchat, and Jordan, who'd been ghosting Maya's texts since the cafeteria incident last week. Great. Now she was trapped.

"Yo, is Maya working?" Chloe's voice carried across the store. "Look at you, all professional with your name tag and everything."

Maya's face burned. She'd managed to avoid everyone knowing about this job, and now her social life was officially dead.

"Whatever," she muttered, trying to look busy arranging the impulse buy shelf. But then she saw it: Jordan and Tyler exchanging this look. That *look*. The kind that meant something was happening and everyone knew except her.

She became a spy without meaning to. watching them through the reflection in the glass cooler door. Tyler slipped his phone into his pocket. Jordan adjusted her hair. They were meeting up later. Without inviting her.

"Can you believe this?" Chloe was suddenly beside her, voice lowered. "They're all going to Jake's party tonight. Jake, whose parents have that pool with the waterfall and everything. And nobody told you."

Something twisted in Maya's chest. Not just FOMO—it was deeper. The realization that her friends had evolved into people who did things like pool parties and papaya-eating and hanging out without her, while she was still the same girl who needed this job because her family couldn't afford her college application fees.

"I don't care," Maya said, but her voice cracked.

Just then, Mr. Henderson's cat—who literally lived at the store, don't ask—wandered out from the back room. The cat walked straight to Maya and rubbed against her leg like they were best friends.

"That cat hates everyone," Chloe said, genuinely surprised.

"I guess," Maya said. And suddenly she didn't feel like crying anymore.

Her break couldn't come fast enough. She grabbed her water bottle from the break room and sat outside behind the store, where she could breathe. The cable snaking along the wall buzzed with electricity from the streetlamp above.

Her phone lit up. Jordan: *hey, sorry about earlier. we wanted to invite you but figured you were working. can you come after?*

Maya stared at the message. Then she noticed something else—a new notification from the group chat she'd been added to without realizing it. Tyler had tagged her in a post: *Maya's working tonight but she's coming through after. Save her some pool time.*

They weren't leaving her behind. They were respecting her grind. That was... actually kind of solid.

Maya typed back: *I'll be there at 9. don't start without me.*

The cat purred at her feet. She'd go to the party, yes. But she'd also rock this job, because honestly? Being the girl who could handle papaya emergencies and earn her own money? That was kind of powerful too.