The Papaya Incident

Pool parties at Jake's house were legendary, but this one felt different. Maybe because I finally worked up the courage to talk to Chloe, the varsity swimming star who'd been giving me those looks across the hallway all week. Or maybe because I was hiding a papaya in my swim trunks.

"Dude, are you good?" Marcus asked, flopping onto the lawn chair next to mine. "You've been staring at Chloe for like twenty minutes. It's getting weird."

"Shut up," I muttered, adjusting my phone where it lay on the towel. My iphone buzzed — a text from my mom asking if I wanted papaya smoothies later. The irony wasn't lost on me.

The baseball team had showed up uninvited, led by Tyler, who thought everything was his domain. Including Chloe, apparently. I watched him swagger over to her, all confidence and zero awareness. She laughed at something he said, and my stomach did that awful twisty thing.

"Bro, you gotta make a move," Marcus said, like it was that simple. "Tyler's not that special. He just thinks he is cause he hit a home run last game."

I stood up, planning to actually do it. But then I saw Tyler pointing toward the food table, laughing. At my papaya. The one I'd brought because Chloe had mentioned in health class how much she loved exotic fruit, and I'd thought it would be cute, thoughtful, different.

"Who brought a papaya?" Tyler called out. "What is this, a grocery store?"

Everyone laughed. I froze. This was it. Social suicide. The papaya that was supposed to be my wingman was now my executioner.

But then Chloe picked it up.

"I love papaya," she said, giving me this look that made my chest go all tight. "Who brought this?"

I raised my hand, face burning. "My mom grows them. In our backyard."

"That's actually kinda cool," Tyler said, but his tone said otherwise.

Chloe sliced it open with a knife from the table, right there in her swimsuit, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "You want some?" she asked, holding out a piece to me.

Our fingers touched. The pool splashed behind us, someone cannonballed. The world felt loud and quiet at the same time.

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks."

We ended up sitting on the edge of the diving board, eating papaya with our legs dangling over the water. Tyler joined the baseball game in the yard. Marcus gave me a thumbs-up from across the pool.

"Your mom really grows these?" Chloe asked, licking juice from her thumb.

"Yeah," I lied. "Well, she tried. This one came from Trader Joe's."

She laughed, and it was better than any home run I'd ever hit in baseball, which was saying something, considering I'd never actually played baseball.

"You're funny," she said.

"I'm actually not."

"Good." She nudged my shoulder with hers. "Neither am I."

My phone buzzed again on the towel. Mom: Papayas are in season! Come home soon, sweetie!

I'd deal with that later. Right now, Chloe was handing me another piece of papaya, and the sun was perfect, and for once, I wasn't overthinking everything. The papaya incident had turned out okay. Better than okay.