Papaya Secrets

Maya pulled her bucket hat down low, trying to disappear into the cafeteria chaos. Freshman year was supposed to be a glow-up, not a complete identity crisis.

"You're literally going to become a vitamin deficiency if you keep eating like that," Zara said, sliding onto the bench across from her. Her rainbow hair was perfect as always. Maya's stomach did that thing it always did around Zara—equal parts admiration and low-key terror.

"It's papaya," Maya said, poking at the mysterious fruit her mom had packed. "It's healthy. Exotic. Cultured."

"It looks like alien insides," Zara said, but she was smiling. "Anyway, did you see Sam's story?"

Maya's heart kicked up. Sam. The Sam who'd sat behind her in homeroom since September and had never once acknowledged her existence until yesterday, when he'd dropped his pencil and she'd picked it up and their fingers had brushed for literally half a second that Maya had replayed approximately a thousand times.

"No," she said, trying to sound casual about it. Failing, probably.

"He posted that he's looking for a bassist for his band," Zara said. "You play bass, right? You should totally DM him."

"I can't just DM Sam," Maya said, even though she'd been staring at his profile for twenty minutes last night, feeling like a total creep spy. "That's weird. That's weird behavior."

"You're overthinking it." Zara stole a piece of papaya. "Just be chill. Say you saw his post and you're interested. Bam. Band practice. Instant friendship. Maybe more."

Maya's face was on fire. "Maybe more" was not something she was ready to think about with Sam, who probably had cool older friends and went to parties on weekends and didn't spend Friday nights reorganizing her Pokémon cards.

"I can't," she said. "I just—"

"What's the worst that happens? He says no? You bear the soul-crushing embarrassment and move on with your life?" Zara rolled her eyes. "Maya, you're literally the most talented musician I know. You should be performing, not hiding in your room."

The bell rang before Maya could respond, which was both a relief and a problem because now she had to actually decide if she was going to DM Sam or spend the rest of her life wondering what might have happened if she'd just been brave for once.

Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.

Hey, this is Sam from homeroom. Zara gave me your number. You interested in jamming sometime?

Maya stared at the screen so hard her vision swam. Outside the cafeteria window, a poster for the fall dance flapped in the wind—BEAR PAWS DANCE, it said, because their mascot was a bear and someone in administration thought that was clever.

She texted back before she could overthink it into oblivion.

Yeah. I'd love to.

Then she added a hat emoji because apparently that was her life now.

Her phone buzzed again. Awesome. Come by my house at 4? I live on Oak Street, the blue one with the papaya tree in the front yard.

Maya laughed out loud. Of course.

She slid her phone into her pocket, adjusted her bucket hat, and walked into the hallway feeling like maybe—just maybe—she was going to be okay.