Fox in My Palm

The house party at Maya's was supposed to be life-changing. Instead, I stood in the corner holding a red solo cup like it was my only personality trait.

"You look like you're hiding," came a voice behind me. I turned to see Fox—that's what everyone called Miguel, with his copper hair and cunning grin. He was the kind of guy who could convince anyone to do anything.

"I'm not hiding," I lied. "I'm... observing. Social research."

Fox laughed, and it sounded like wind chimes in a hurricane. "You should get your palm read. Maya's cousin does it. Ten bucks, she tells your future."

Before I could protest that fortune-telling was totally scammy, Fox had already dragged me across the room. Maya's cousin, a sophomore with too much eyeliner, took my hand.

"You're going to meet someone special," she said, tracing a line on my palm. "Someone unexpected."

Fox winked at me. I felt my face do that thing where it betrayed me completely.

Then the music died. The cable connecting the speakers had come loose. The room went silent, and suddenly everyone was staring at us—me, Fox, and my still-outstretched hand.

"I got it," Fox said, dropping to his knees. He crawled under the table to fix the cable connection, and I stood there like an idiot, palm still exposed, waiting for a prophecy that had already walked away on two copper-haired legs.

The music kicked back in—some bass-heavy song that made the floor vibrate. Fox emerged from under the table, grinning like he'd just won the lottery. "See? I fixed it."

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks."

"So," he said, rocking back on his heels. "About that palm reading..."

"Total BS, right?"

"Maybe." He stepped closer. "But sometimes the universe has a weird way of being right about stuff."

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Unknown number. Unknown sender. But I didn't check it. Fox was still looking at me like I was the only person in the room who mattered.

Sometimes the future finds you when you're not looking for it. And sometimes it's just a boy with a nickname like Fox, fixing cables at a house party, making you believe in impossible things.