Papaya Summer

The humidity hit Maya like a wall as she stepped off the bus, her backpack weighing heavier than usual. Three weeks at her aunt's house in Miami – practically a whole summer away from everything and everyone she knew.

"You'll make friends," her mom had promised. Yeah, right. Maya was terrible at friend-making. She overthought everything. What if they thought she was weird? What if she said something awkward?

Her aunt's neighbor turned out to be Leo, a guy with salt-and-pepper hair who was somehow both elderly and annoyingly cool. He was sitting on his porch eating papaya from a repurposed margarine tub.

"You look like someone who needs water," he said, gesturing to a glass pitcher on his patio table. "First rule of Miami: hydrate or die."

Maya took the water. Leo wasn't wrong – she felt like she was melting into the pavement.

"I don't belong here," she admitted, surprising herself. Why was she telling this random old guy her feelings?

Leo shrugged. "Give it three days. Everything feels impossible until it's not."

The impossible thing happened faster than three days. At the community pool, Maya dropped her iphone on the concrete deck. The screen shattered – tiny spiderwebs across her digital life. All her photos, her messages with her best friend Sarah, everything – still there, but broken.

She sat on the edge of a lounge chair, fighting back tears. That's when the girl with the bright orange swimsuit appeared.

"My cousin fixes screens," she said. "Like, actually legit good at it. I'm Jada, by the way."

Maya looked up. Jada was grinning, holding out a slice of papaya.

"Weird intro, I know," Jada laughed. "But Leo said you might need rescuing. Also, papaya helps with homesickness. It's a fact. I read it somewhere probably."

Maya found herself laughing. Really laughing.

"I'm Maya," she said. "And I would love both of those things."

That night, Maya facetime-called Sarah on her cracked screen, her new friend sitting beside her eating stolen papaya from Leo's porch. Some things were broken, some things were new, and somehow – Leo was right – the impossible thing wasn't impossible anymore.

She was going to be okay.