Papaya Summer

The baseball field was empty—just the way I liked it. Me and Leo had been coming here since seventh grade, back when the biggest problem in life was who got to be pitcher during dodgeball in gym class. But that was before. Before Leo got cool. Before I became the guy people forgot to invite to things.

"You gonna hit that or just stare at it?" Leo called out. He was leaning against the backstop, looking effortless in his varsity jacket. I adjusted my glasses and tried to act normal.

"Shut up, I'm thinking."

"About what? Your tragic love life?" He grinned, and for a second it was like old times. Then his phone buzzed—the group chat that didn't include me—and I watched the smile freeze on his face.

After practice, my mom dropped me off at the grocery store to pick up stuff for dinner. I was in the produce section when I saw her: Mia, from my English class. She was standing in front of a display of tropical fruits, looking completely lost.

"Need help?" I said before I could talk myself out of it.

She turned, and I noticed for the first time that her eyes were this weird golden color. Like a fox I'd seen behind the school once, watching me with this intense, knowing look. "My mom wants papaya for this recipe, but I've literally never seen one in real life. Do I just... grab it?"

I laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty much how it works. But you want one that gives a little when you press it, like an avocado."

"You're, like, weirdly good at this," she said, and I felt my face get hot. "What else do you know about exotic fruits?"

"Too much," I said. "My family's from everywhere, so my mom's always buying random stuff. This one time she brought home dragon fruit and I ate it before realizing it was supposed to be for her work party."

Mia was laughing now, actually laughing, and something shifted in my chest. "Oh my god, did you die?"

"Nearly. But she made me try every weird fruit at the store as punishment. Knowledge is pain."

"Well, papaya expert," she said, holding up the fruit, "thanks for saving me from embarrassment."

"No problem."

"Hey," she said, turning back before walking away. "Some of us are going to the lake this weekend. You should come."

I stood there for a full minute after she left, just holding a papaya like an idiot, until my phone buzzed. A text from Leo: dude where are you

I typed back: produce section. living my best life.

He replied: lol. pick me up papaya too i want to see what the hype is about

Walking to the checkout, I realized something: maybe things were changing. Maybe that was okay. And maybe, just maybe, I wasn't going to be the forgotten friend anymore. Not if I had anything to say about it.