The Art of Floating

Maya's seventh-grade summer had two speeds: hiding in her room and trying too hard. Today, unfortunately, was option B.

The pool party. The social event of the season, according to Jordan's Instagram story. Maya stood by the snack table, clutching a vitamin C-fortified smoothie like it was a lifeline. Her mom's papaya experiment wasn't exactly helping her fit in.

"You gonna drink that or marry it?"

Maya jumped. It was Caleb—the guy who sat behind her in pre-algebra, the one whose messy hair somehow worked. He was wearing a backwards baseball hat and holding a bag of cheddar goldfish like they were contraband.

"It's... papaya," Maya managed, her voice doing that embarrassing crackly thing. "My mom's into superfoods now."

"Weird flex, but okay." Caleb grinned, and Maya felt her face heating up. "Want some goldfish? They're basically a food group."

She reached for one, but suddenly Chloe—the actual queen of the seventh grade—squealed from across the pool. "Oh my GOD, that orange cat is back!"

Everyone turned. A mangy orange cat was indeed perched on the fence, eyeing the party like it was judging their life choices. The cat had been showing up at neighborhood gatherings all summer, earning itself a local Instagram following.

"Someone should catch it," Jordan announced, because of course he would.

"Dude, it's a feral cat," Caleb said, popping another goldfish. "You can't just—"

But Maya was already moving. Something about the way everyone was standing around, someone needed to actually do something. She grabbed her smoothie, marched to the fence, and—

The cat hissed and bolted, knocking over the cooler in its escape. Ice and drinks everywhere. A papaya smoothie explosion all over her white shirt.

Dead silence.

Then laughter. Not mean laughter, but the real kind. Caleb was practically wheezing. "Did you just get into a fight with a cat AND lose?"

Maya looked down at her papaya-stained shirt and started laughing too. Something loosened in her chest. "Total knockout. The cat's undefeated."

"Here." Caleb pulled off his hat and dropped it on her head. It smelled like chlorine and goldfish. "Coverage strategy. You're welcome."

Maya pulled the brim down. "Thanks. My social standing is saved by a backwards hat."

"Hey, we've all been there." Caleb's shoulder brushed hers. "Besides, papaya's supposed to be good for your skin. Multi-tasking."

The cat watched from the neighbor's roof, looking suspiciously like it had won.

"Next time," Maya called up to it, adjusting Caleb's hat, "I'm bringing actual treats."

Caleb laughed, and Maya floated home later that afternoon with papaya stains, a borrowed hat, and three new contacts in her phone. Sometimes the most embarrassing moments made the best stories.