Papaya Summer

Maya's palms were sweating. Literally sweating. She clutched her iPhone tighter, the screen illuminating her face in the dim hallway of Jackson Rivera's house party. This was it. The moment she'd been obsessing over for two weeks.

You're overthinking it, her best friend Kai had texted earlier. Just talk to him like a normal person.

But Maya couldn't remember how to be normal around Jackson anymore. Not since that day in chemistry when he'd helped her clean up a broken beaker and their fingers had brushed together, sending electricity up her arm that had nothing to do with static.

She'd spent the entire summer devising ways to casually run into him. Which had led to this: accepting an invitation to a party she'd usually avoid, wearing a crop top that felt too revealing, and clutching a slice of fruit pizza like it was her emotional support food.

"Hey, Maya, right?"

Jackson appeared beside her, and her brain short-circuited. He was even cuter up close, with messy dark curls and eyes the color of, well, she couldn't even think straight enough to come up with a comparison.

"Yeah! Hi!" she squeaked. "I like your... house. It's very house-y."

Kill me now.

But Jackson laughed. It was a nice laugh. Warm. "Thanks. My mom's obsessed with tropical everything. That's why there's, like, papaya everywhere." He gestured to the centerpiece on the nearby table, where the exotic fruit sat in a decorative bowl.

"I love papaya," Maya blurted out. She did not, in fact, love papaya. She'd never tried it.

"No way," Jackson said, his eyes lighting up. "Most people think it's weird. My dad says it tastes like soap, but I think that's just because he can't appreciate sophisticated flavors."

He reached into the bowl and pulled out a slice of the orange-fleshed fruit. "You want to try some? Fresh from the farmer's market this morning."

Maya's heart hammered against her ribs as she accepted the slice. Their fingers didn't brush this time, but his hand lingered near hers for just a second longer than necessary.

She took a bite. It was... interesting. Not bad, exactly, but unfamiliar. Musky and sweet, with a texture that made her tongue curl.

"Well?" Jackson asked, watching her with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

Maya swallowed. "It's... sophisticated."

Jackson's grin widened. "Exactly what I said!"

Her iPhone buzzed in her pocket — probably Kai demanding an update — but Maya ignored it. For the first time all night, her palms were dry, and she wasn't overthinking anything.

"So," Jackson said, leaning against the wall beside her. "Since you have such excellent taste in fruit, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to get bubble tea sometime? There's this place downtown that adds — get this — actual papaya to their slushies."

Maya couldn't help it — she laughed. A real laugh, not the nervous one she'd been doing all night. "I would love that. Even if it tastes like soap."

"Deal," Jackson said, and something in his expression told her this was the beginning of something that might actually matter.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, she didn't ignore it. She pulled it out and texted Kai back: Omg you were right. Also, I apparently love papaya now.

Sometimes, she thought as Jackson launched into a story about his disastrous attempt at growing tropical plants in his dorm room, the best things in life are the ones you never saw coming. Like papaya. Like parties you almost didn't attend. Like boys who notice you're nervous and make you feel brave anyway.