The Papaya Incident

Maya had been *running* from her problems since seventh grade—literally. Cross country was her escape, the one place where her spiraling thoughts couldn't catch up to her burning lungs. But when Coach announced the team would be doing a partnership with the new kids from that fancy charter school across town, Maya's anxiety kicked into high gear.

"You're partnered with Leo," her best *friend* Sarah whispered, practically vibrating with excitement. "He's cute. Also, he was staring at you during warmups."

"He was probably wondering why I run like a panicked gazelle," Maya muttered, pulling her sleeves over her hands.

Their first partnered practice was awkward. Leo was fast—annoyingly fast—and he kept giving her these looks that she couldn't quite read. Afterward, he caught up to her near the bleachers.

"Hey, so," he started, weirdly nervous for someone who'd just smoked everyone on the three-mile. "My mom owns that health store downtown? The one with the really aggressive smoothie advertisements?"

"Okay?" Maya's stomach did this weird fluttery thing.

"She's developing this new *vitamin* blend for student athletes, and she needs test subjects. I thought, since you're always talking about how you can never sleep before meets..."

"I told Sarah that once. In September."

"I have excellent hearing," Leo grinned. "Anyway, free smoothies for a week if you survive the testing phase. No pressure, obviously."

Maya said yes because she was weak and his smile had this stupidly charming crooked thing going on. Which is how she found herself at his kitchen island the next afternoon, watching him blend something that looked alarmingly radioactive green.

"There's *papaya* in this," he said, pushing a Mason jar toward her. "Full disclaimer."

"I hate papaya."

"That's what my mom said about teenagers and personal boundaries, yet here we are."

Maya laughed despite herself. The smoothie tasted like grass and desperate hope, but she drank the whole thing anyway.

Three weeks and many questionable smoothies later, Maya's times had dropped by forty-five seconds, her insomnia had mostly vanished, and she maybe possibly had a tiny crush on Leo's terrible jokes. Sarah called it 'vitamin-induced simp behavior.'

"It's not the vitamins," Maya insisted, though she couldn't explain why she kept showing up for 'testing sessions' even after the trial ended.

"You're literally glowing," Sarah deadpanned. "It's the papaya. It's definitely the papaya."

Maya didn't correct her. Some things were better left unexplained—like how sometimes the things that scare you turn out to be exactly what you needed, and sometimes running toward something is better than running away.

"See you tomorrow?" Leo asked after practice, his hand brushing hers as they reached for the same water bottle.

"Yeah," Maya said, her heart doing that fluttery thing again. "Tomorrow."