Papaya Summer

Maya felt like a zombie. Three hours of sleep and a whole lot of overthinking would do that to you. She stood at the edge of Jake's backyard party, nursing a lukewarm soda while everyone else seemed to be living their best lives.

"Try this!" Jake's cousin thrust a plate toward her. "My mom went all out."

Maya stared at the weird orange fruit chunks. "What is it?"

"Papaya. It's actually fire once you get used to it."

She took a hesitant bite. Texture like melon, taste like... feet? "Uh, interesting," she managed, while Jake's cousin nodded enthusiastically like she'd just unlocked some secret level of sophistication.

Baseball practice had been canceled due to rain, which was the only reason Maya was even here. Her teammates would be losing their minds somewhere else, probably doing everything except talking about baseball. That was the thing about being the new girl on the team — you were technically part of the squad but also kind of not.

"You look like you'd rather be literally anywhere else," said a voice beside her.

Maya jumped. It was Jordan, the pitcher everyone either had a crush on or was intimidated by. Possibly both.

"Is it that obvious?" Maya winced. "Sorry, I'm just... I'm low-key exhausted."

"Same." Jordan gestured at the papaya plate. "That stuff is genuinely gross, but Jake's cousin is so proud of it that we're all just eating our feelings."

Maya snorted. Suddenly, the zombie feeling lifted a little.

"You play, right?" Jordan nodded toward the baseball cap tucked into Maya's back pocket.

"Yeah, but I'm pretty mid at it."

"Doubt it." Jordan grinned. "Tomorrow, seven AM, field's open if you want to actually get some practice in. Without the performative chaos."

Maya looked at this person she'd been intimidated by for weeks, who apparently also hated papaya and understood the zombie vibe. "Yeah," she said, something in her chest loosening. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Maybe this summer wouldn't be so dead after all.