The Bear, The Beanie, and The Bad Haircut

The beanie wasn't working. Like, at all.

Maya tugged it lower, trying to hide what she'd done to her hair yesterday—what she'd called "giving herself layers" but what her mom had called "a DIY disaster." Now she was at the biggest party of the summer, poolside at Tyler's house, hiding under a knit hat in ninety-degree weather like a total weirdo.

Her iPhone buzzed in her pocket. Again.

*Tyler: u coming? everyone's asking*

Maya groaned and stuffed it deeper into her shorts. She'd told him she was "running late." In reality, she was sitting on the curb two houses down, hyperventilating.

"Need a ride?"

Maya jumped. A guy stood there—well, more like loomed. He was huge, wearing a faded shirt with a **bear** on it, holding a papaya like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"What?"

"To the party." He jerked his chin toward Tyler's house. "You're doing that thing where you stare at it like it's gonna bite you."

Maya's face burned. "I'm not—"

"You're wearing a **hat** in July." His eyes crinkled. "I'm Nico, by the way. Tyler's cousin."

"Maya."

"Cool. Well, Maya, you can keep sitting out here, or you can come in and help me finish this." He held up the **papaya**. "My aunt went overboard at the farmer's market and there's, like, five more in the cooler. Nobody's eating them except me."

Maya stared at him. Then at her **iphone**, still clutched in her sweating palm. Then she pulled off her hat.

Her hair—a jagged, uneven mess that she'd cried over for an hour this morning—sprang free. Nico didn't even blink.

"Nice layers," he said, already walking toward the house. "C'mon. The papaya's actually kind of good if you don't think about it too hard."

Maya's fingers went to her hair, then stopped. Whatever. She grabbed her phone, typed *omw*, and followed him toward the noise and the laughter and the maybe-not-so-terrible-after-all party.