Papaya Kisses and Goldfish

Maya's fourth attempt at beach waves had resulted in what her older sister called "electrocuted poodle." Her hair, normally her safety blanket, was currently betraying her before the biggest party of sophomore year.

"You look fine," her mom called from the kitchen. "Try this papaya smoothie recipe I found!"

Maya groaned. Papaya? At a high school party? That was social suicide. But her mom was already blending away, probably convinced this was the secret to Maya finally making friends at Northwood High.

The party was already lit when she arrived. Tyler's basement was packed, the air thick with cheap body spray and anticipation. Maya spotted Chelsea and her squad immediately—the girls who somehow made messy buns look intentional, while Maya's hair was already frizzing in the humidity.

"Hey!" Jason materialized beside her, looking unfairly good in his varsity jacket. "I was hoping you'd come."

Maya's stomach did that annoying little flip it always did around him. "Yeah, I... I brought papaya smoothies." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. Smoothies. At a house party. What was wrong with her?

Jason stared at her, then burst out laughing. Not mean laughing—like, actually finding it funny. "No way. That's actually legendary. My grandma's always trying to get me to eat papayas. Said they're good for, like, brain power or something."

"Your grandma sounds smart," Maya said, surprising herself with how steady her voice came out.

"You want one?" She held out a cup. "I have, like, six more in my car."

"Jason drinking papaya smoothies!" someone shouted. Suddenly, everyone wanted one. Chelsea appeared, phone out. "Wait, are those actually good?"

By midnight, Maya's hair was a mess, Chelsea had posted three Instagram stories with the hashtag #papayacrew, and Jason was sitting beside her on the back porch, their shoulders barely touching. Her memory of the exact conversation would be fuzzy later—goldfish brain, as her little brother would say—but she'd remember how the moonlight caught his smile when he asked if she wanted to hang out next weekend.

"Only if I bring the smoothies," she'd said, feeling braver than she ever had before.

Her hair was still frizzy. But somehow, that didn't matter anymore.