Riddles in the Kitchen

Marcus stood in the doorway of Kayla's basement, heart doing that weird fluttery thing it always did when he was somewhere he definitely didn't belong. The music was too loud, the air smelled like cheap body spray and nervous sweat, and everyone seemed to know exactly what to do with their hands except him.

"Yo, you want some?" A guy with hair dyed the color of a papaya sunset held out a bright orange slice. "It's papaya. My mom's trying to get me to eat 'healthy' or whatever."

Marcus hesitated, then took it. First party, first papaya, first time feeling like everyone was speaking a language he'd somehow missed in class. He took a bite and almost spit it out—tasted like soap mixed with melty bananas.

"It's... different," he managed, while Papaya Hair laughed like Marcus had just told the best joke ever.

Then he saw her across the room. Maya. Wearing that vintage fox jacket she'd thrifted, the one with the actual fox tail on the back that swished when she walked. She was laughing at something someone said, head thrown back, completely in her element. Meanwhile Marcus was standing there holding half-eaten papaya like an idiot.

Their eyes met for like, three seconds, and Marcus's brain turned into something resembling a sphinx riddle he couldn't solve. Was that a smile? Was she laughing at him? Was she actually going to come over and say hi, or was that just his brain playing tricks again?

She didn't come over. Of course she didn't.

"You good, bro?" Papaya Hair asked, clapping him on the shoulder way too hard. "You look like you're having an existential crisis or something."

"Yeah," Marcus lied, tossing the rest of the papaya into a random plant. "Just thinking about... stuff."

Outside, his phone buzzed. A text from his mom: "How's the party? Having fun? 🦁" She'd sent a sphinx emoji instead of a lion again. She'd been doing that for months, pretending it was just her being "quirky," but Marcus knew it was her thing since the divorce—finding weird little ways to make him smile.

He stared at the message, feeling that weird mix of annoyed and grateful that was basically their whole relationship now.

Inside, Maya was still wearing that fox jacket, still being effortless and cool and everything Marcus wasn't. But maybe that was okay. Maybe everyone was just pretending they knew what they were doing, even the ones who looked like they had it all figured out.

He texted back: "Party's chill. Eating weird fruit and learning stuff. 🦊"

Baby steps.