Papaya Summer

The hat was technically a crime against fashion — my dad's fishing bucket hat, three sizes too big, sitting on my head like a beige satellite dish. But it was my armor against the world, or at least against Tyler's eyes every time he looked my way across the juice bar.

"Dude, you look ridiculous," said Riley, sliding onto the stool next to mine. They'd been my best friend since kindergarten, which meant they were contractually obligated to tell me when I was being embarrassing. "It's ninety degrees. You're gonna pass out."

"It's a vibe," I muttered, though sweat was already trickling down my spine. My phone buzzed in my pocket — probably another text from my mom asking if I'd taken my vitamin D yet, because apparently sixteen-year-olds needed reminders about basic nutrition.

Tyler walked over, and I practically disappeared into my hat like a nervous turtle.

"Hey," he said, and his voice was exactly the kind of warm that made my stomach do actual gymnastics. "What's good here?"

Riley kicked me under the counter.

"The Tropical Thunder has real papaya," I blurted, then immediately wanted to dissolve. "Not that fake syrup stuff. My abuela taught me that papaya's supposed to taste like sunshine and disappointment, not chemicals."

Tyler blinked. Then he laughed. "That's... oddly specific?"

"My family's weird about fruit," I said, which wasn't even a lie.

"I'll take it," he said. "And lose the hat? You've got great hair."

I took off the hat.

My phone buzzed again. Vitamin D reminder. I ignored it.

"So," Tyler said, leaning against the counter, "papaya expert. What else should I know?"

Riley was making gagging faces behind his back. I made a mental note to revenge-text them later from my iphone with something extremely uncool.

"Everything," I said, and for the first time all summer, I wasn't wearing a hat or hiding behind a screen or worrying about vitamins or perfect grades or whether my voice sounded weird. I was just a girl in a juice bar, talking to a boy who thought my weird family fruit opinions were worth listening to.

Sometimes the most terrifying moments are the ones that turn out to be exactly what you needed. Even if you're sweating. Even if your best friend is secretly filming it.

Even if papaya is actually kind of gross.