The Papaya Incident

I felt like a total zombie at Skylar's party. Like, actually undead. My limbs moved on autopilot — grab a cup, nod at someone I barely knew from bio, pretend to laugh at jokes that weren't even funny. My social battery had died twenty minutes after I arrived, and now I was just going through the motions.

"You good, bro?" Marcus appeared beside me, handing me a drink.

"Yeah. Just... feeling it. You know?" I took a sip. Pineapple juice, thank god. My mom would kill me if she knew I was even at a high school party, let alone one with actual alcohol floating around.

"You look like you're about to pass out," Marcus said. "Or maybe you're already dead and your body hasn't gotten the memo yet."

"Funny."

He pointed toward the back of the room. "Skylar's parents have this tank. Like, a massive one. They've got this goldfish that's been alive forever. It's literally older than us."

I followed his gaze to the glowing aquarium in the corner. A single goldfish — enormous, almost the size of my hand — drifted through the water with the kind of confidence I wished I had.

"That's Henry," Skylar appeared behind us, suddenly way too close. "He's a survivor. A warrior. A literal icon."

"How long has he been alive?" I asked.

"Seven years. My brother won him at a carnival, then went to college, then graduated, and Henry's still here doing his thing." She looked at me. "What's your story, new kid?"

My face heated up. "I'm just... here."

"Well, 'here,' someone spilled papaya punch all over the kitchen counter and everyone's pretending it's not happening because no one wants to be the person who cleans it up." She grabbed my wrist. "Come help me."

Before I could process what was happening, I was in the kitchen, surrounded by sticky sweet fruit juice and paper towels. Skylar was laughing at something, and I realized the zombie feeling was gone. Replaced by something else — something that felt suspiciously like actually being alive.

"You know," she said, wiping papaya pulp from the counter, "my ex said papaya tasted like feet."

"That's a terrible take," I said without thinking.

She looked up, surprised. "Yeah? What's your take?"

"It's underrated. Like, actually good if you give it a chance."

Skylar smiled. And in that moment, with papaya everywhere and a seven-year-old goldfish watching from the next room, I stopped feeling like a zombie and started feeling like... me. Whoever that was supposed to be.