Fox Hair & Palm Readings

Maya spent forty minutes on her hair before the party. Forty. Minutes. And it still looked like she'd been electrocuted. She texted Sofia: this is a disaster. Sofia replied: u look fire. Sofia was a liar, but she was a loyal one.

The party was at Tyler's house—basement, makeshift dance floor, someone's older brother supplying what they promised was 'definitely not cheap beer.' Maya grabbed a soda and stood by the wall, calculating how long she needed to stay before she could bail without seeming lame.

Then she saw him.

Danny Fox. Everyone called him Fox—not just because it was his last name, but because he had this way of slipping through crowds unnoticed, sharp eyes missing nothing. He was wearing a vintage jacket with actual fox fur on the collar. Maya had accidentally made direct eye contact with him in AP Bio once and had to fake a coughing fit to recover.

Now Fox was sitting in the corner with a deck of cards, and people were gathered around like he was performing miracles.

'Tarot?' someone asked.

'Palm reading,' Fox said. 'I charge in secrets.'

Maya found herself drifting closer. She blamed the soda. Or the lighting. Definitely not that she'd had a crush on him since homecoming.

'Next?' Fox looked up. His eyes were amber-bright in the basement's dim light.

Before she could overthink it, Maya sat down and extended her hand. Her palm was sweating. Mortifying.

Fox didn't seem to care. He traced the lines on her hand with a gentleness that made her chest feel weird. 'You're worried about what people think.' He smiled faintly. 'But you shouldn't be. See this?' He tapped a line near her thumb. 'This says you're going to stop caring so much. Soon.' He looked up. 'I like your hair, by the way. It looks like you have better things to do than fix it.'

Maya's face burned. 'I spent forty minutes on it.'

Fox laughed. It was a real laugh, not the performative one he used with his friends. 'Exactly.' He tapped her palm one more time. 'Life line's strong. You're going to be okay, Maya.' He knew her name. He knew her name.

'My turn to confess something,' he said quietly. 'I don't actually know how to read palms. I just say whatever I think people need to hear.'

Maya stared at him. Then she started laughing, and she couldn't stop. Fox grinned like he'd won something.

'Friends?' he asked.

'Maybe,' she said. 'But you still owe me a proper reading.'

'Tomorrow at lunch?' His face was open, hopeful.

'Bring the cards.'

Maya left the party an hour later with Sofia, still smiling about nothing, and somehow—impossibly—her hair actually did look kind of fire.