Papaya Protocol

Maya's summer mission wasn't exactly Mission Impossible—unless you counted surviving her older brother's graduation party without completely embarrassing herself. She'd been assigned Operation Papaya: retrieve the exotic fruit centerpiece from the kitchen before her aunt Brenda could offer her another "helpful" lecture on dating.

"You're running recon again?" Jay rolled his eyes from the couch, not looking up from his phone. "Just go talk to him."

Him. Lucas. The reason Maya had spent the last three hours doing the most awkward surveillance of her life. Every time Lucas drifted toward the snack table, she'd suddenly find urgent business near the dip. Smooth. So smooth.

"I'm not spying," Maya protested, though the papaya in her hands suggested otherwise. "I'm strategically gathering intel."

"Whatever you say, 007." Jay finally looked up, smirking. "But seriously, that bull about being 'too busy for relationships'? Everyone knows you've been crushing on Lucas since middle school."

Maya's face burned. She opened her mouth to deny everything when the family dog—Buster, an ancient golden retriever with zero respect for covert operations—came barreling through the patio door, barking at absolutely nothing. In the chaos, Maya tripped, the papaya flew, and suddenly Lucas was right there, catching the fruit before it could stain the pristine concrete.

"Nice save," he said, grinning. And then, because the universe apparently enjoyed her suffering: "You know, I was actually looking for you."

"Me?" Maya's voice squeaked. Why did it always squeak?

"Yeah, Jay said you might want to help me with the graduation slideshow. Since you're good with computers and stuff." Lucas shrugged, casual as could be. "Unless you're busy with... papaya operations?"

Jay was dying. Actually dying of laughter in the background.

Maya took a breath. "Papaya operations are classified," she managed, and Lucas laughed—not making fun of her, but with her. "But I could probably fit you in. Between missions."

"Cool." His smile was genuine. "Tomorrow work?"

"Tomorrow works."

As Lucas walked away, Buster finally stopped barking and trotted over, expecting treats. Maya looked at her brother, who was now recording the whole thing.

"Delete that," she warned.

"Or?" Jay raised an eyebrow. "You'll send the dog after me?"

"Worse." Maya reclaimed her papaya, finally allowing herself to smile. "I'll tell Mom you still haven't written your thank-you notes."

Jay's face fell. "Alright, truce. But seriously?" His voice softened. "Good job, agent."

Maya watched Lucas across the crowded yard, feeling something hopeful and terrifying and absolutely electric unfold in her chest. Some missions, she decided, didn't need extraction at all.