Papaya Pitfall

The first week of July hit me like a freight train. Between swim practice at 6 AM, my summer gig at Mario's Tropical Grill, and staying up until 2 AM scrolling through Kai's Instagram, I was basically functioning as a **zombie**. My mom actually asked if I was feeling okay three times yesterday.

"You look like death, mijo," she said, hand on my forehead. I mumbled something about fine and reached for the coffee.

Mario's was weirdly exhausting for reasons I couldn't explain. Maybe it was the humidity. Maybe it was the way his brother Tito – a total **bull** of a man who always looked like he wanted to fight someone – stared at me while I chopped mangoes. Or maybe it was the papaya incident.

Mario decided the restaurant needed "authentic tropical flair" and ordered five cases of papaya. The problem? Nobody actually bought papaya. So it became my job to somehow incorporate this alien fruit into everything.

"Put it in the smoothies," Mario said. "The salsa. The dessert specials. Whatever, just make it work."

I was in the middle of yet another papaya experiment when Kai walked in with friends. My stomach did that embarrassing thing where it forgets how to be a stomach.

They sat at table seven. I became a total **spy**, strategically positioning myself by the blender so I could watch them without being obvious. But my spy skills were clearly lacking because I knocked over an entire container of papaya seeds everywhere.

"You good?" Tito grunted from the kitchen doorway.

"Totally," I said, furiously sweeping papaya seeds under the counter.

Later, after work, I dragged myself to **swimming** practice. Coach Sarah blew her whistle when I showed up two minutes late.

"Summer's not for sleeping in, Santiago."

"I know, Coach."

"Then why do you look like you haven't slept since May?"

I pushed off the wall and started laps, thinking about how Kai had laughed at something their friend said. How I'd almost messed up their order because I was too busy being creepy. How this entire summer felt like I was underwater, holding my breath, waiting for something to happen.

After practice, dripping chlorinated water onto the sidewalk, my phone buzzed. A DM from Kai: "hey!! tried that papaya smoothie today, it was actually super good??"

I stood there for a full minute, just staring at my screen. Maybe being a functioning zombie wasn't the worst thing in the world. Maybe this summer would be okay after all.