Electric

The hat was three sizes too big and smelled like my dad's garage, but I was wearing it anyway. House rule number one at Emma's party: if you showed up alone, you had to wear something ridiculous. Mine was a faded Dodgers cap that kept sliding over my eyes every time I nodded.

"You good, Maya?" Emma shouted over the bass that was literally vibrating in my chest.

"So good," I lied, adjusting the brim. "Just vibing."

I wasn't vibing. I was exactly one spilled drink away from calling my mom to pick me up early from my first high school party.

Then I saw him. Leo from AP Bio, leaning against the sliding glass door like he hadn't just gotten a 97 on the last exam while I'd barely scraped an 88.

Thunder cracked through the music. Someone yelled "LIGHTNING round!" and suddenly we were all running toward the backyard where the storm was putting on a whole show. Purple veins of electricity spider-webbed across the sky, reflecting off the pool.

"Nice hat," Leo said, falling into step beside me. His shoulder brushed mine and my entire nervous system short-circuited.

"It's vintage," I said, because that sounded better than "it's my dad's and I'm using it as a security blanket."

He laughed, and I could feel it in my own chest. "My cousin reads palms," he said, apropos of nothing. "She taught me."

"No way. That's so random."

"Give me your hand." His palm was warm against mine, and I forgot how to breathe. "You're going to meet someone important tonight," he said, tracing a line across my palm with his thumb. "Someone who gets your obscure references and laughs at your terrible jokes."

Lightning struck somewhere close, illuminating his face in this moment of perfect clarity. The hair standing up on my arms had nothing to do with the storm.

"You're making that up," I said, but I was grinning like an idiot.

"Maybe," Leo said. "Maybe not." He didn't let go of my hand. "But I think I might be that someone."