Papaya lips at the pool party

The air smelled like chlorine and coconut sunscreen—classic August. Maya stood at the edge of the pool party like she'd forgotten her social skills along with her towel.

"You coming in or what?" Jordan called from the water, splashing water at her flip-flops. Jordan, who'd gotten hot over the summer and now moved like the pool belonged to them.

Before Maya could answer, a golden retriever barreled through the gate—Ms. Henderson's dog, probably escaped again—and sent a folding chair flying into the snack table. Hummus and papaya chunks everywhere. The papaya part was weird, but Jordan's mom was trying to be fancy with "tropical refreshments."

Everyone froze. Then some sophomore Maya didn't know started laughing, and suddenly it was chaos. People were slipping on hummus, someone was chasing the dog, and Maya spotted her chance.

She slipped away to the side fence where a girl in a fox-emoji swim cover sat vaping like she was in a music video. The fox girl winked at her.

"Hiding?" the girl asked. "Same. These people are exhausting."

Maya relaxed. "I'm Maya."

"Riley." Riley passed her a gummy vitamin C pack. "My mom thinks I'm at SAT prep. She gives me these immunity boosters like they're gonna save me from teenage decision-making."

Maya laughed, surprised. "My mom thinks I'm at the library. Instead I'm at a party where a dog just destroyed the hummus."

"The papaya too, I saw." Riley gestured with her vitamin pack. "Who serves papaya at a pool party? That's rich kid trying too hard."

"Right?" Maya felt lighter than she had all summer. "Wanna ditch? There's a boba place down the street."

Riley's grin was actual sunshine. "I thought you'd never ask."

They climbed the fence while the papaya disaster continued behind them, and Maya realized sometimes the best moments happen when everything goes wrong—and you're brave enough to find something better instead.