Palm Lines at the Deep End

The sun beat down on the concrete around the pool, turning Jenna's backyard into something like a microwave. I smoothed my hands against my thighs, then felt stupid because I was wearing board shorts. Everyone else looked so effortless in their skin—Carter doing cannonballs off the diving board, Maya lounging on a float with those tiny sunglasses that cost more than my entire wardrobe.

"You gonna swim or just stand there looking like a lost puppy?"

I jumped. It was Tyler, Carter's older brother, leaning against the fence with a Red Bull in one hand. His hair was wet, droplets catching the light like they were trying to be extra about it. He had this way of looking at you that felt like x-ray vision.

"I'm thinking about it," I said, which was a lie. I wasn't thinking about it. I was thinking about how my chest had that tight feeling again, like someone was pulling a drawstring.

He held out his free hand, palm up. "Let me see."

"What?"

"Your hand. I read palms. It's a whole thing."

I hesitated, then let him take my hand. His skin was warm from the sun, fingers calloused from skateboarding. He traced the lines on my palm with this serious expression, like he was reading a map somewhere.

"You've got a long life line," he said. "But this here?" He tapped a spot near my thumb. "This means you're gonna have to choose between two paths. And you're scared you'll pick the wrong one."

I stared at him. "That's actually kinda specific."

Tyler grinned, all teeth and mischief. "I'm psychic, bro. Also, that's literally everyone's life story at fourteen."

"You're full of it," I said, but I was laughing.

"Maybe. But look." He nodded toward the pool where Carter had just done a cannonball that splashed half the party. "You standing at the edge all scared? That's the wrong path. The other one's the water. It's not that deep once you're in."

He pushed me. I yelled, flailing, and hit the water cold and sudden. When I came up sputtering, Tyler was laughing so hard he dropped his energy drink. And yeah, the pool was cold, and my hair was definitely ruined, and everyone was looking—but I was already paddling toward the deep end before I could overthink it.

Later, when I got home and checked my hand in the mirror, the lines were just lines. But Tyler was right about one thing—I'd picked a path, and the water had been warmer than I expected.