Under the Brim

Maya pulled the brim of her dad's old baseball hat lower, suddenly grateful she'd swiped it from the closet. House parties weren't exactly her vibe, especially when the only person she actually knew was currently three shots deep and shouting at a ficus plant.

"Yo, try this."

Some guy in a hoodie she'd never met shoved a slice of papaya at her. "It's exotic. Like, from Whole Foods and shit."

Maya eyed the fruit suspiciously. "Is this a dare? Because I'm not doing tiktok challenges tonight."

"Nah, just thought you'd want something that doesn't taste like desperate loneliness." He gestured at the red solo cup in her hand. "That jungle juice looks mid anyway."

She laughed despite herself and took a bite. Weirdly sweet, kind of musky, not terrible but definitely not about to become her personality.

"It's different," she admitted.

"Different's good." He nodded like this was profound wisdom. "I'm Marcus, by the way. Not that you asked."

"Maya." She hesitated, then pushed her hat back slightly. "And this isn't my usual aesthetic. I'm mostly here for emotional damage and free snacks."

Marcus's pocket buzzed. He ignored it, which honestly? Kind of a flex.

"You're not even gonna check your iphone?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "What if it's important? Like, what if your mom's texting you?"

"She's not." Marcus grinned, all crooked teeth and unearned confidence. "If it's important, they'll call. Twice. That's the rule."

Something in Maya's chest loosened. She'd spent the last hour checking her own phone every three minutes, waiting for texts that never came, watching everyone else's screens light up while hers stayed stubbornly dim.

"That's actually smart," she said softly.

"Mostly I just don't want to see how many people are ignoring me." Marcus winked, and Maya realized he was just as nervous as she was. Just better at faking it.

The hat suddenly felt unnecessary. She tipped it back, letting her hair fall forward, and for the first time all night, she didn't feel like watching herself from across the room.

"Want another papaya slice?" Marcus offered. "I think there's more. Unless you're living dangerously now."

"I'll take one," Maya decided. "Living dangerously starts with fruit consumption, right?"

They stood against the wall, eating papaya and ignoring their phones, while somewhere in the distance, someone put on the wrong song and nobody seemed to care.