The Papaya Incident

Maya's first day at The Vitamin Shack was not going according to plan. The smoothie bar slash wellness store smelled like patchouli and desperation, and her coworker Jake kept calling her "new girl" despite her name tag clearly displaying MAYA in rainbow letters she'd applied herself.

"You're up," Jake said, abandoning her at the register when his phone buzzed. "Regular customer. Don't mess it up."

The girl who walked in was unmistakably Chloe—Maya's former best friend turned social media nemesis, wearing a cropped tank top that said EAT THE RICH in rhinestones. Behind her trailed the new friend, some girl with teal hair who definitely knew all of Maya's embarrassing middle school moments.

"Oh hey," Chloe said, her voice doing that thing where it sounded like a question and an insult at the same time. "Didn't know you worked here."

"First day," Maya managed, her voice cracking. "What can I get you?"

Chloe's gaze traveled to the menu board behind Maya's head. "Gimme that Green Goddess thing. And"—she paused, dramatically—"make sure there's actual papaya this time. Last time Jordan made it, it tasted like lawn clippings."

Papaya. Right. Maya's fingers flew over the touch screen, selecting the pre-made blend labeled GREEN GODNESS (typo and all). The vitamix whirred to life, drowning out whatever Chloe was saying about someone's Snap story.

"Your friend?" Jake appeared, leaning against the counter, staring at Chloe like she was a particularly rare species of houseplant.

"Not anymore," Maya said, pouring the sludge into a cup. Something about the way Chloe laughed at something Teal Hair said made Maya's chest feel like she'd swallowed all the vitamin supplements on the wall behind her.

She slid the smoothie across the counter. Chloe took a sip, paused, and made a face like she'd licked a sidewalk.

"There's literally no papaya in this," Chloe said.

"Yes there is," Maya lied, feeling her face burn. "It's blended in. You can't—"

"You used the pre-mix," Chloe said. "Again. Whatever. Guess some things never change."

They left, Chloe's laugh trailing behind them like the smell of something burning. Jake was still staring at the door.

"She seems nice," he said.

"She's not," Maya said, and then, because she was sixteen and tired of being the person who let things slide: "That was a papaya test. She knew I'd mess it up. She does that."

Jake blinked. "That's... weirdly intense?"

"Yeah," Maya said, surprised by her own honesty. "Yeah, it is."

"Wanna take your break?" Jake asked. "I'll cover the register. You can go sit in the back and dissociate."

Maya grabbed a bottle of vitamin C drops from the display—stole it, really, because Jake wasn't paying attention—and headed to the break room. Somewhere behind her, the bell above the door chimed. A real customer, probably one who'd actually get papaya in their smoothie.

She could still fix this. She'd learn the recipes. She'd make the perfect Green Goddess with actual fresh papaya, and next time Chloe came in, she'd hand it over like it was nothing and say "that'll be $8.50" like they were strangers who'd never shared a locker in seventh grade.

Or maybe she'd just find a new job. Jake seemed cool. Maybe they'd be friends.

The vitamin C drops tasted like artificial orange and revenge. Not bad, actually.