Papaya Sphinx Summer

The resort pool shimmered like something off Instagram, and somewhere in the back of my brain, I knew I should be having the time of my life. But instead, I was stuck behind a potted **palm** tree, trying to look casual while definitely not casually watching Jordan from the debate team attempt to flirt with someone who wasn't me.

"You're being ridiculous," said Mia, appearing beside me with two virgin piña coladas. "He literally quoted the **Sphinx** riddle in our AP English class last week. The man is not subtle."

"That's different," I protested, even though my **palm**s were suddenly sweating. "That's academic. This is—this is social warfare."

Mia rolled her eyes so hard I worried they'd get stuck. "You know what you need? You need to stop overthinking everything and just—"

"JAX!" Jordan yelled from across the pool area.

And that's when it happened. That precise, cursed moment when my brain decided coordinating my limbs was optional. I turned toward him too fast, my foot caught on the uneven **palm** frond I'd been awkwardly hovering behind, and suddenly I was airborne.

Time slowed down, the way it does in movies before disaster strikes. I saw Jordan's face shift from excitement to horror. I saw Mia's drink tumbling from her hand in slow motion. I saw my entire social life flashing before my eyes.

I crashed directly into the **papaya** display next to the smoothie bar. Fruit everywhere. Sticky juice running down my favorite swimsuit. And somewhere, a **bull** frog that had been minding its own business in a nearby planter let out the most judgmental croak I'd ever heard in my life.

The silence that followed was absolute. Like, the kind of silence where you can actually hear **water** dripping from someone's swimsuit.

Then Jordan started laughing. Not mean laughing—not laughing *at* me, but the kind where he's trying so hard not to that his whole body shakes. And suddenly I was laughing too, because honestly, what other choice did I have? I was covered in tropical fruit in front of my entire grade, and the alternative was crying, and I refused to give everyone that satisfaction.

"Well," I said, wiping **papaya** from my forehead with whatever dignity I could muster. "That's one way to make an entrance."

Jordan waded through the literal fruit salad to help me up. "That was honestly the most impressive thing I've ever seen. Like, 10 out of 10 for commitment."

"I live to serve," I deadpanned, but I was smiling now. Because somehow, in the middle of my absolute mortification, Jordan was standing there offering me his hand, and he wasn't looking at me like I was a joke. He was looking at me like someone who wanted to be part of whatever weird thing I'd just created.

Later that night, sitting on the beach with sand between my toes and the distant sound of **water** lapping at the shore, Jordan would ask if I wanted to go to the end-of-summer dance with him. And I'd say yes, obviously. But right now, in this sticky, embarrassing moment? I just had to survive.

"Next time," Mia whispered, handing me a napkin, "maybe just say hi to him like a normal person?"

"Where's the fun in that?" I grinned. And maybe I didn't have it all figured out. Maybe I was still awkward and overthinking everything and falling into fruit displays on the regular. But at least I was doing it on my own terms.