The Papaya Incident

I felt like a total zombie walking into Maya's party. Three hours of sleep will do that to you, thanks to AP History procrastination. My bright orange hoodie stood out like a beacon among the crop tops and flannel, but whatever. Comfort over conforming, right?

Maya's house was packed. I spotted Liam by the snacks—my target, my mission, my crush. I'd been basically cyber-stalking his Instagram for weeks, which felt creepy but also, everyone does it? It's just modern reconnaissance.

"Hey!" Liam said, spotting me. "You made it!"

"Yeah, just..." I gestured vaguely at the fruit platter. "Checking out the papaya situation."

He laughed. Actually laughed. My socially awkward brain was screaming. Then his sister's cat, a calico named Pickles, jumped onto the counter and knocked over an entire bowl of guacamole.

"PICKLES, NO!" Liam lunged for the cat. I lunged for the bowl. We collided. Guacamole everywhere. On the floor. On my orange hoodie. On both of us.

The room went silent.

Then Maya started cracking up. Soon everyone was laughing. Liam looked at me with guacamole in his hair and smiled—that genuine, crooked smile I'd been watching from afar through my screen.

"Well," he said. "That's one way to make an entrance."

I wiped guac from my cheek. "At least it wasn't the papaya."

"True." He handed me a napkin. "Hey, after we clean this up... want to hang out? Like, actually hang out?"

My zombie brain woke up real fast. "Yeah," I said, grinning. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Sometimes the most embarrassing moments become the best stories. And sometimes, you just have to let the cat knock over the guacamole to get what you want.