The Papaya Pitch

The bear suit smelled like junior high gym class and regret. But here I was, stuffed inside polyester fur, sweating through my undershirt as the summer sun beat down on the concession stand. My first real job, and I was basically a walking mascot for Miller's Market.

"Yo bear, give us a pose!" yelled Tyler from the varsity baseball team, circling the parking lot in his dad's pickup like he owned the whole town.

I froze. Tyler was the kind of guy who wore his baseball hat backwards everywhere—school, church, probably even the shower. Last year, he'd accidentally knocked my tray out of my hands in the cafeteria, and instead of apologizing, he'd said, "My bad, new kid." Like I wasn't new anymore. Like my name wasn't Marcus.

Inside the bear head, my glasses kept sliding down my nose. I couldn't wipe them. I couldn't breathe. I was fourteen and trapped in fuzzy prison while my crush, Jasmine, watched from the bleachers with her friends.

"FREE SAMPLES!" I roared through the mesh mouth, waving a papaya slice like it was golden treasure. Marketing genius idea: get people hooked on exotic fruit. Reality: nobody wanted papaya in 95-degree heat.

Except Jasmine.

She drifted over, all tank top and freckles and perfect hair that actually moved in the wind. "What's that?"

"Papaya." My voice came out muffled, like I was speaking from inside a cave. Which I sort of was. "It's tropical. My mom says it tastes like sunshine."

She laughed, and the sound made my stomach do things that should be illegal in public. "I'll try it."

I thrust the sample forward with my giant bear paw. She took it, her fingers brushing my fake fur, and I swear I felt it through three layers of costume.

She ate it. She actually ate it.

"It's..." Her nose wrinkled. "Interesting. Like if a melon and soap had a baby."

We both laughed, and suddenly I wasn't the kid in the bear suit anymore. I was just a guy making a girl laugh with terrible fruit.

"Hey!" Tyler called from his truck. "Save some papaya for me!"

Jasmine rolled her eyes so hard I practically heard it. "He's been trying to get with me since seventh grade. He thinks wearing his hat backwards makes him look mysterious."

Inside the bear head, I grinned. "Wanna know a secret?"

She leaned in.

"This suit is actually kind of cozy."

Jasmine smiled. Maybe I was still the mascot. Maybe I still had papaya juice on my paws. But for the first time since moving to this town, I didn't feel like the new kid. I felt like someone worth talking to.

Someone who could make a girl laugh with terrible fruit.

The bear suit wasn't so bad after all.