Orange Skies and Sweaty Palms

Maya's palms were sweating so much she could practically water plants with them. Which was ridiculous, because she was just standing in Tyler's kitchen, holding a red Solo cup like it was a lifeline.

"So," Tyler said, leaning against the counter like he owned the place. Which, technically, his parents did. "You actually came."

"Yeah." Maya took a sip of whatever was in her cup. Tasted like orange soda mixed with regret. "Wild, right?"

This was it. Her first real party. Her first real chance to prove she wasn't just that quiet girl who sat in the back of AP Bio, the one everyone forgot existed unless they needed to copy homework.

Then Jordan walked in.

Of course Jordan would be here. Jordan, with their stupidly perfect orange-tinted hair that somehow looked intentional instead of like a failed dye job. Jordan, who'd made Maya's life miserable since seventh grade with comments that never quite crossed into bullying territory but left marks anyway.

"Oh," Jordan said, spotting her. "Maya. Didn't think you were the party type."

"People change." Maya's voice came out stronger than she felt.

"Do they?" Jordan's cat-like grin made something tighten in Maya's chest. "Or do they just pretend to?"

The kitchen suddenly felt suffocating. Maya set her cup down on the counter—hands shaking only slightly—and walked outside to the backyard.

She found herself sitting on the porch steps next to a girl she'd seen around school but never actually spoken to. Riley. The one with the palm tree tattoo on her forearm and the reputation for reading tarot cards during lunch.

"Jordan being a jerk again?" Riley asked, like she could read minds.

"How'd you—"

"They're always a jerk." Riley pulled a deck of cards from her pocket. "Wanna see something cool?"

She held out her hand. "Give me your palm."

Maya hesitated, then placed her hand in Riley's. "This is bull, right? Like, you're not actually gonna—"

"Shh." Riley traced a line across Maya's palm. "See this? Your life line. It's gotta split. Means you're at a crossroads."

"Great." Maya deadpanned. "Thanks for the vague oracle energy."

"I'm not done." Riley looked up, and for the first time, Maya noticed her eyes were the same exact shade as the sunset behind them—that impossible orange that made everything feel like a movie. "You think you have to choose who to be. But you don't. You can be the girl who studies AND the girl who goes to parties. You can be scared AND brave. That's the thing about crossroads—they're only intersections until you move forward."

Something loosened in Maya's chest. "You do this for everyone?"

"Only the ones who look like they're about to bolt." Riley stood up. "Coming back inside? I think Jordan's monopolizing the jukebox and someone needs to fix that."

Maya smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."

Her palms were still sweaty. But maybe that wasn't the worst thing in the world.