Papaya Summer

Maya's palms were sweating. Like, actually dripping. She gripped the red plastic cup harder, wishing she could dissolve into the backdrop of Jordan's end-of-school bash. Everyone seemed so effortless, so *them*, while she stood there like a NPC in someone else's game.

"Yo, you good?"

She jumped. A fox-orange haired guy grinned at her, holding out a plate. "You look like you're mentally calculating escape routes."

"Is it that obvious?" Maya groaned, then immediately wished she could take it back. Way to sound desperate.

"Nah, I've just been there." He pointed to his own chest. "Liam. Professional wallflower, three years running."

He slid the plate toward her. Slices of papaya, glistening in the string lights.

"What is this?"

"My grandma's secret weapon. She swears it's an icebreaker. I think she just really likes exotic fruit." He winked. "Also, it's not jungle juice, so your liver will thank you."

Maya laughed despite herself. "You're weird."

"Weird is better than boring." He leaned against the porch railing. "Besides, I saw you eyeing the door like it was a rescue dog at a shelter. Figured you could use a co-conspirator."

The bass from inside thumped against the screen door. Somewhere, someone shouted "SHOTGUN!" way too loud.

"I'm Maya," she said, reaching for a papaya slice. It was sweet, unexpected. Like summer nights were supposed to be, but rarely were.

"Nice to meet you, Maya." Liam bumped her shoulder with his. "Wanna get out of here? There's a fox den down the road. Well, it's technically a ravine, but I saw three foxes there last week and it's way better than this."

Maya looked at the party—Jordan grinding on someone she'd met twenty minutes ago, a spilled drink on the carpet, the performative laughter.

Then she looked at Liam, with his fox hair and papaya plate and zero pretense.

"Absolutely."

They slipped out the back door, running toward the ravine under moonlight, and Maya's palms finally stopped sweating.