Poolside Papaya

Maya adjusted the bucket hat for the thousandth time, checking her reflection in the sliding glass door. It was her third attempt at reinventing herself this summer, and she was praying this one would stick.

"You're not actually wearing that inside, are you?" Chloe asked from her spot on the couch, not looking up from her phone.

"It's part of the aesthetic," Maya lied, even though she was already sweating. The hat was doing zero favors for her hair situation.

Chloe's pool party was in full swing outside. This was it—the moment Maya had been overthinking all week. She'd practiced her entry in her mirror like a dork. Cool, casual, effortless. Three things she definitely wasn't.

Her phone buzzed. Jace: you coming?

Maya's stomach did that annoying fluttery thing. She grabbed her tote bag and headed out, adjusting the hat again. Whatever. Fake it till you make it, right?

The pool area was chaos in the best way. Kids she'd known since middle school, some she barely spoke to, all floating on inflatables and screaming over each other. Jace was in the deep end, effortlessly treading water while everyone laughed at something he'd said. Maya felt her chest tighten.

She spotted him, and suddenly the hat felt ridiculous. The papaya slices her mom had packed her as a "healthy snack" felt like the most embarrassing thing in existence. What 15-year-old brought papaya to a pool party?!

"Maya!" Jace waved her over. "Finally!"

She set her bag down on a lounge chair, trying to look like she did this every day.

"What's with the hat?" Someone asked. It might have been Tyler. It was definitely Tyler.

"It's a vibe," she shot back, channeling Chloe-levels of nonchalance.

"Your hat's a vibe," Jace agreed, splashing water at her. "Your outfit's a vibe. Everything's a vibe today."

Maya actually laughed. She couldn't help it.

Someone cranked the music. Bodies pressed closer around the pool. Maya found herself next to Jace, their arms barely touching as they leaned against the side. The papaya slices were still in her bag, forgotten.

"So," he said, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Her heart hammered against her ribs. This was it. The moment every coming-of-age movie had prepared her for.

"I found your childhood bear in the donation pile at the community center."

Maya froze. "What?"

"Mr. Snuggles?" Jace's eyes twinkled. "The one your mom donated last summer? I may have rescued him. He's currently living in my closet."

"YOU STOLE MY BEAR?!"

"Rescued," he corrected. "Big difference."

Maya didn't know whether to be mortified or strangely touched that Jace of all people had saved her childhood teddy bear from the thrift store.

"I can't believe this," she groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "Please tell me you didn't tell anyone."

"Your secret's safe with me," he promised. "But you have to admit—it's kinda bear-y cute."

"That was terrible."

"I know."

By dusk, Maya's hat had long been abandoned by the poolside. Her papaya slices had been discovered and surprisingly devoured by a group of stoned seniors who declared them "exotic vibes." And somehow, she and Jace were sitting on the diving board, their feet dangling in the water, talking about everything and nothing.

"You know," he said, "you didn't need the hat. You've always been cool."

Maya looked at him—really looked at him—and felt something shift inside her chest. Not the fluttery anxiety feeling. Something steadier.

"Maybe," she said. "But it did help me rescue Mr. Snuggles, didn't it?"

Jace laughed, and Maya decided that sometimes, the most embarrassing parts of yourself were just the ones that made you real.

Also, she was definitely getting that bear back tomorrow.