Palm Read at Midnight

The pool party was everything Maya feared: too loud, too many people from school she barely knew, and way too much exposure. Her palms were already sweating—classic Maya response to social situations that required more than awkward nods in hallways.

"You're blocking the cat," said Zara, the girl whose Instagram stories made Maya's life look like a constant aesthetic dream sequence.

Maya blinked. There was indeed a cat. A calico was perched delicately on the diving board, staring at the chaotic splash fight in the deep end like it was observing an alien species.

"That's... random," Maya managed.

"Everything's random tonight." Zara sat beside her, her orange swimsuit vibrant against the pool deck's concrete. "My aunt said she'd read palms at the party to make it 'mystical,' but she got called into work. So I'm reading fortunes instead."

Maya's heart did that thing where it forgot how to beat correctly. "You do palm readings?"

"Fake ones. Want yours done?"

Before Maya could process—could say no, could say she was fine, could literally run—Zara had taken her hand. Her fingers were cool against Maya's heated palm, sending little electric shocks up her arm that had nothing to do with the summer heat.

"Hmm," Zara said, studying Maya's hand like it held ancient texts. "You're overthinking everything."

"That's not exactly a fortune-telling revelation."

"You're scared of something big coming up. And you don't give yourself enough credit. Also..." Zara grinned, "you're going to spill water on yourself in approximately thirty seconds."

"What—"

Then it happened. Someone cannonballed into the pool, sending an arch of water directly at them. Maya didn't move fast enough, and suddenly she was drenched, her carefully chosen outfit completely ruined, her dignity somewhere at the bottom of the pool.

Zara was laughing, but not in a mean way. She handed Maya a towel from the stack nearby. Their fingers brushed again. That same electric feeling.

"Told you," Zara said. "Also, my fake prediction about you needing to take more risks? Valid. You should come to the beach with us tomorrow."

The cat, disturbed by the splash fight, abandoned the diving board with a disgusted look, padding toward the house. Maya watched it go, water dripping from her hair, feeling strangely lighter.

"Okay," she said. "Yes. To the beach."

And somehow, drenched and mortified, Maya had never felt less like hiding in her room forever.