Papaya Lightning at 3 AM

The papaya sat on my desk like a radioactive alien egg, its bright orange flesh glowing under my desk lamp. Mom had bought it on some health kick, expecting me to suddenly become a person who eats exotic fruit instead of Lucky Charms.

"You trying to become Instagram aesthetic or something?" Jordan had asked earlier, leaning against my doorframe, skateboard tucked under his arm like it was an extension of his body. I'd nearly choked on my own spit.

"It's just fruit, Jordan."

"Right. Just like that time you drank matcha for a week straight because you saw a TikTok about it."

I threw a pillow at him. He dodged, grinning that grin that made my stomach do actual gymnastics.

Now it was 3 AM and I was doing what any normal person would be: scrolling through Jordan's Spotify profile like a total weirdo. A spy mission. That's what I called it in my head. Made it sound less pathetic. His playlist "sad boi hours" had 47 songs. I'd listened to all of them. Twice.

The cable box in the living room had been flickering all night, old and dying like our budget allowed. Every time it glitched, the whole house would go dark for a second before the backup generator kicked in.

Lightning flashed outside my window, illuminating everything in harsh white. Thunder shook the floorboards a second later. Perfect. Absolutely perfect weather for my spiraling.

My phone buzzed.

Jordan: you up?

My heart literally stopped. Then restarted at triple speed.

Me: yeah can't sleep

Jordan: cable is out at my place. can I come over? I'm bored

Jordan: wait that sounds weird

Jordan: not like that I just mean

I stared at the screen. The papaya on my desk had gone brownish-orange in the dim light, looking less alien and more like a mistake. Kind of like my entire personality.

Me: lol come over

Jordan: be there in 5

I PANICKED.

Threw on a hoodie. Brushed my teeth. Hid the papaya in the back of the fridge because what if he thought I was trying too hard? What if he came in here and saw exotic fruit and immediately knew everything?

Three minutes later, soft knocks on the front door. Jordan stood there in the rain, hoodie soaked through, holding a bag of Doritos like a peace offering.

"Cable's totally fried," he said, stepping inside and shaking rain everywhere. " figured we could just... I dunno. Hang out."

"Sure," I said, trying to act normal. "Want to see something weird?"

"Always."

I led him to my room. Another lightning flash lit up everything—the posters on my walls, the pile of clean laundry I hadn't put away yet, the half-empty water glass on my nightstand.

"So," I said, gesturing vaguely. "This is it. My humble abode."

"Nice," Jordan said, then paused. "Is that... papaya?"

I froze. I'd forgotten to fully close the fridge door. The orange glow was visible from here.

"Maybe?"

Jordan laughed—not mean, just genuine. "Dude, are you trying to become a wellness influencer?"

"Shut up."

"Can I try some?"

"It's probably gross."

"Let me decide."

So we sat on my floor at 3:17 AM, eating papaya with forks, lightning flashing outside, talking about everything and nothing. Jordan told me about the college applications that were keeping him up. I told him about my Spotify spy missions—well, some of them.

"You listened to my playlist?" Jordan asked, eyebrows raised.

"Maybe."

"That's... actually kind of sweet? In a creepy way?"

"I'm going with sweet."

"Sweet," Jordan agreed, and smiled.

The rain slowed down. The cable box downstairs made one final, dying buzz before giving up completely.

"You know," Jordan said, setting down a papaya peel. "I was gonna come over anyway. Cable or not."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just needed an excuse that didn't sound like..." Jordan trailed off, looking at me sideways. "You know."

"I think I might know."

"Good."

We sat there until the sky started turning light, eating papaya and watching lightning strike over the hills, neither of us mentioning the cable that had somehow brought us here. The papaya was actually kind of good.

Maybe I really was becoming a wellness influencer after all.