Papaya Sunday

The chlorine smell hit me before I even stepped onto the deck. Miller's pool party. The invite everyone'd been talking about all week. I stood there in my Target two-piece, feeling like I'd mistakenly walked onto a movie set instead of my classmate's backyard.

"YO, Maya!" Jason yelled from the pool, splashing water everywhere. "Get in here!"

I forced a smile. "Yeah, just, uh, warming up."

Truth was, I couldn't swim. Like, at all. Growing up, my mom'd been terrified of water after something that happened in her childhood, so swim lessons were never a thing. Which was fine until suddenly, freshman year, everyone was having pool parties and beach days and I was just out here fully drowned in FOMO.

I sat on a lounge chair, scrolling through my phone like I was too cool to participate, when Miller's golden retriever, Buster, trotted over. He dropped something wet and orange at my feet.

"Buster, no," I whispered, but it was too late.

"What's that?" Chloe, the most popular girl in our grade, appeared beside me. "Is that... papaya?"

My face burned. "Yeah, my abuela makes me bring it to parties. Says it helps with digestion or whatever."

The papaya had been in my bag, leftover from breakfast. I'd been planning to secretly throw it out because who brings papaya to a pool party? But Buster had fished it out, and now Chloe was staring at it like I'd grown a second head.

"That's actually kinda cool," Chloe said, sitting down next to me. "My mom's all into, like, gut health and stuff. She's always trying to get me to eat fermented whatever. Papaya's way less gross."

"You want it?" I asked, genuinely confused. "It's actually pretty good with lime—"

"Chloe!" someone called from the pool. "Truth or dare!"

She hesitated. "You coming?"

"I don't really... swim," I admitted, feeling small.

Chloe studied me for a second. "Neither does Miller. We mostly just hang out in the shallow end and judge people. You in?"

So there I was, waist-deep in the shallow end, surrounded by people I'd spent half the year being intimidated by, eating papaya straight from the rind with Chloe while Miller's dog swam circles around us, barking at floaties.

"So," Chloe said, licking papaya juice off her thumb. "You coming to the beach next weekend?"

I looked around at my new friends, at Buster paddling after a deflated noodle, at the absurd orange fruit in my hand. "Yeah," I said, finally smiling for real. "I'm in."