Orange Baseball Prophet

Maya's iPhone buzzed in her palm, third time in five minutes. *You coming?*

She stood outside the baseball field gates, gripping her phone like it was a lifeline. Her orange high-top converse scuffed against the pavement as she debated turning back. First official hangout with Tyler since he'd noticed her in third period bio. No big deal. Except it was a massive deal.

The whole baseball team was warming up on the field, and she spotted Tyler immediately. He waved, that easy grin that made her stomach do backflips. Maya forced herself to wave back, adjusting her oversized orange baseball cap—she'd stolen it from her brother's closet because he said it looked cool, and now she was questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

"Maya! You made it!" Tyler jogged over, his jersey catching the sunset. "I saved you a spot."

The bleachers were packed. Maya's heart hammered as she climbed up, hyper-aware of everyone watching. She'd spent all morning studying palm reading on some dumb app her friend Jordan swore by. *Your fate line shows bold moves,* it had promised.

So far, her fate line mostly showed anxiety and questionable fashion choices.

"Everything okay?" Tyler asked, dropping beside her. His knee bumped hers, sending electric sparks through her entire body.

"Yeah," Maya squeaked. "Just... admiring the view."

Smooth. Really smooth.

Then she saw it—a giant bear mascot dancing on the sidelines, clearly someone's dad who'd drawn the short straw. The bear was doing some sort of cha-cha, completely unbothered by its own dignity crisis.

"That's my dad," Tyler groaned, covering his face. "I'm never living this down."

Maya laughed, genuinely laughed, and something shifted between them. The anxiety melted into something warmer, something like possibility.

"Hey," she said, her voice steadier now. "Want me to read your palm? I'm basically a prophet now."

Tyler raised an eyebrow but held out his hand, calloused from baseball. Maya traced his fate line with her finger, pretending she knew what she was doing.

"Hmm," she said dramatically. "I see... bold moves. And maybe getting ice cream after this?"

The bear mascot chose that exact moment to trip over its own feet, faceplanting in spectacular fashion. The entire stadium erupted. Tyler's eyes crinkled with laughter, and Maya thought maybe—just maybe—her palm reading app had been right about something after all.

"Ice cream sounds perfect," he said.

Her iPhone buzzed again. *Told you.*—Jordan

Maya grinned and tucked her phone away. Some prophecies, apparently, were self-fulfilling.