The Palm Tree Incident

Maya's hands were sweating so much she could practically water plants with them. Standing at the edge of the pool, clutching a red Solo cup like it was a lifeline, she watched Jake—the cute junior from AP Chem—laughing with his friends by the deep end. This was it. Her chance to finally talk to him at Chloe's legendary end-of-summer blowout. Instead, she'd spent the last forty-five minutes petting Buster, Chloe's golden retriever, who seemed genuinely confused why this random girl was aggressively scratching behind his ears.

"Yo Maya, you gonna stand there all day or what?" Tyler called out, splashing water in her direction. "The pool's not gonna bite."

Maya's palm felt slippery against her cup. She'd spent TWO HOURS on her hair that morning, and the humidity was already turning her curls into something resembling electrocuted seaweed. Why had she let Chloe convince her that straightening it was "so last season"? Natural was great and all, but natural in ninety-degree Florida weather was basically a frizz disaster waiting to happen.

Then she saw it—Jake's friends dared him to climb the fake palm tree in the corner of the yard. The one decorated with Christmas lights because Chloe's dad was "festive." Jake, being Jake, accepted immediately, because of course he did. Boys.

He made it halfway up before his foot slipped. He didn't fall, thankfully, but he did grab wildly at the trunk and accidentally knocked down a string of lights—and revealed, taped to the back of the tree, a poster of a shirtless guy with BEAR written in Sharpie across his forehead.

Silence. Then roaring laughter.

"That's from freshman year!" Jake yelled, face burning. "I was in that weird phase where I was obsessed with that survival show!"

Maya snorted before she could stop herself. Jake looked over and caught her eye, still grinning despite himself. He shrugged, hopping down from the tree.

"Whatever," he said, walking toward her. "At least I don't spend entire parties talking to the dog."

Maya froze. But Jake's smile was genuine.

"I'm joking," he said. "Buster's a solid conversationalist. Way better than Tyler."

He held out his hand. "I'm Jake, by the way. We've had AP Chem together for a year, and I don't think I've ever heard you say more than three words."

Maya wiped her sweaty palm on her dress—smooth move—and took his hand. "I'm Maya. And I say plenty of words. Just not to people who call themselves 'Chem Kings' unironically."

Jake laughed. "Fair. That was a dark time." He paused. "Wanna get out of here? There's this boba place down the street..."

Behind them, Tyler yelled, "Hey! Who wants to see if I can fit THREE pool noodles in my mouth at once?"

Maya looked at Jake, at his stupid perfect hair and his genuine smile. "Definitely," she said. "Let's go."