Papaya Lips and Panic

Maya's palms were sweating so hard she could practically water plants with them. Sixteen years old and her first real house party, thanks to her best friend Chloe basically dragging her out of her comfort zone. The bass thumped through the walls of some senior's house she didn't even know, and somewhere inside was Jake—the cute skater boy she'd been lowkey crushing on since September.

"You got this," Chloe said, adjusting Maya's strapless dress. "Just don't be weird."

Easy for her to say. Chloe had the social battery of a golden retriever. Maya had the social battery of a cat that'd been forced into a bath—presently screaming and looking for an exit.

Inside, the air smelled like cheap body spray and something tropical. Jake was by the snacks, looking devastating in his flannel and beanie, and there was a bowl of papaya chunks on the counter because apparently this was a fancy party? Whatever. Maya grabbed a piece, thinking it looked safe enough.

"Hey," she said, and her voice came out weirdly squeaky. Jake turned, smiling, and Maya's brain short-circuited. She shoved the papaya in her mouth.

Big mistake. The fruit was somehow spicy? Who makes spicy papaya? Her eyes watered and she might have made a noise like a dying bear.

"You okay?" Jake asked, stepping closer. Too close.

"Fine," Maya choked out, but then she felt it— spinach. From earlier. Stuck between her front teeth. From the smoothie place她和Chloe hit before coming here. The smoothie she'd ordered specifically because it was "Instagram aesthetic."

She froze. This was it. Her moment. Ruined by spinach and spicy papaya. She bolted for the bathroom, knocked into someone wearing a bear mascot head (why were there so many weird things at this party?), and finally locked herself in a stall.

Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.

"Hey, this is Jake. Chloe gave me your number. You seemed stressed so I figured I'd text instead of... you know. Also you had papaya on your lip the whole time but honestly? It was kind of adorable."

Maya stared at her phone. Her palms were still sweating, her heart was racing, and she probably still had spinach in her teeth.

She texted back: "I'm usually cooler than this. Promise."

"Prove it tomorrow," Jake replied. "Coffee after school?"

Maya grinned. Maybe disasters weren't so bad after all.