Papaya Protocol

Maya gripped the papaya smoothie like it was a grenade. Her phone buzzed again — another text from her friends demanding she "live in the moment" at Jake's end-of-summer pool party. Easy for them to say. They weren't the ones who'd somehow managed to wear the exact same swimsuit as Jake's ex-girlfriend.

"Nice papaya," a voice said behind her.

Maya nearly choked. She spun around to find Jake's older brother, Caleb, leaning against the kitchen island. He was supposed to be at college, not standing in his parents' kitchen looking like an Abercrombie model who'd wandered into the wrong suburb.

"It's... organic?" she squeaked.

He laughed. Actually laughed. "I wasn't spying on your drink, promise. Just impressed someone else actually likes papaya. My dad buys them thinking they're healthy, but nobody touches them."

The backyard deck was packed with people from school, all tanned and confident in their bikinis and board shorts. Maya had been hiding inside for twenty minutes, convinced everyone was secretly judging her awkwardness. Turns out only one person had actually noticed her, and it was because of her questionable taste in fruit.

"You coming out to swim?" Caleb asked. "Jake's been doing cannonballs off the diving board. It's kind of hilarious."

Maya's stomach did that annoying fluttery thing. "In a minute."

"Cool." He grabbed a water from the fridge. "Hey, Maya?"

She paused. "Yeah?"

"That swimsuit looks good on you. Just so you know."

He walked out before she could respond. Maya stood there clutching her papaya smoothie like an idiot, heart pounding, certain this was all some elaborate prank. But then she saw him through the sliding glass door, laughing with his friends, and she realized: maybe nobody was watching her as closely as she'd been watching herself.

She took a sip of papaya, smoothed her swimsuit, and headed for the pool.