Electric Summer Storm

The humidity hung thick enough to taste as I stood against the wall of Sofia's backyard party, nursing a papaya smoothie I'd grabbed just to look busy. Fifteen and still somehow the person who didn't know how to exist in rooms like this.

Then Carlos's golden retriever, Buster, trotted over and nudged my hand with that wet-nose insistence that demanded attention. I knelt down, and suddenly he was sitting against my legs like I was his person, and I wasn't complaining about the excuse to stay exactly where I was.

"He likes you," someone said.

I looked up and it was Mateo, whose existence I'd been carefully not-noticing since seventh period algebra, and now he was standing there with a Solo cup and this easy smile that made my chest feel too tight.

"Buster has excellent taste," I managed, and internally winced at how that sounded.

But Mateo just laughed. "My abuela reads palms. She says your life line shows everything you're carrying." He held out his hand, palm up, like an invitation. "Want me to interpret yours? I'm basically a professional after watching her do it at every family gathering."

I hesitated, then let him take my hand. His fingers were warm against mine, and when he traced the lines of my palm, something that felt like **lightning** crackled up my arm—actual, physical electricity that had nothing to do with the storm clouds gathering overhead.

"You're going to do something brave soon," he said softly, not looking at my palm but at me. "I can feel it."

The first raindrop fell between us, and suddenly everyone was scrambling toward the house, but Mateo didn't move. Neither did I. Buster curled between us as the sky opened up, drenching us both, and I realized the brave thing my palm had promised wasn't something big—it was this moment. Right here. Not hiding against the wall. Not pretending I didn't want exactly this.

"Your abuela," I said through the rain, "does she charge for future readings? Because I think I need another one. Tomorrow?"

Mateo's smile was even better in the rain. "I think that can be arranged."