Papaya, Panic, and the Bull

I was dying. Like, actually dying of embarrassment.

There I was, slouching against the family's fruit stand at the Saturday farmers market, wearing my lucky flannel (which wasn't bringing me any luck) and clutching my iPhone like it was a lifeline. Meanwhile, Alex Rivera—the absolute finest pitcher on the JV baseball team, owner of the dreamiest curls I'd ever seen IRL—was walking straight toward me.

My heart did that thing where it forgets how to beat properly. I'd been lowkey spying on his Instagram stories for months (don't judge, we've all been there), but having him three feet away was a whole different vibe.

"Hey, do you have any of those papaya things?" he asked, nodding at the fruit display like he wasn't absolutely destroying my nervous system.

"Uh, yeah," I managed, my voice coming out approximately two octaves higher than normal. "Fresh from my abuela's garden."

"Cool." He leaned in closer, and I swear I stopped breathing. "You're in Mr. Harrison's English class, right? Third period?"

I nodded, probably looking like a bobblehead. This was it. The moment every random interaction had been building up to.

"Cool," he said again, and I could feel my soul leaving my body. That was it. That was the entire conversation.

Then chaos erupted.

A massive bull came charging out of nowhere, having apparently escaped from the petting zoo setup two blocks over. People were screaming, fruit stands were toppling over, and I saw my life flash before my eyes—and those eyes were mostly watching papayas fly everywhere like grenades.

Alex grabbed my hand and yanked me behind our wooden stand just as the bull thundered past. My phone went clattering onto the pavement, but I didn't even care. We were crouched there, pressed against each other, his heart pounding against my shoulder.

"Holy crap," he breathed, and I could feel his breath against my ear. "That was insane."

"Tell me about it," I managed, trying to ignore how my hands were shaking.

When we finally emerged, the market looked like a war zone. But there was Alex, still holding my hand, looking at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

"You saved me," he said quietly.

"What? I was literally freaking out."

"No, you pulled me back. If you hadn't, that bull would've trampled me." A slow grin spread across his face. "You're, like, secretly a hero."

I laughed, the tension finally breaking. "I'm secretly a mess who just really didn't want to get hit by a bull."

"Well." He picked up my iPhone and handed it to me, our fingers brushing. "Thanks for saving my life. Can I, uh, walk you home?"

I nodded, probably looking like a bobblehead again. But this time? I didn't even mind.