Palm Read at the Pool Party

The mechanical bull loomed over the patio like it was judging everyone's life choices. Which, honestly, it kind of was.

"You're NOT actually doing that," Maya said, side-eyeing me with that expression that meant she was two seconds away from filming something for TikTok.

"I'm thinking about it."

"You were terrified of the escalators at the mall last week."

"That was different! The escalator steps move unpredictably."

"Leah. They literally don't."

The pool party was already max-level awkward— seniors from every clique floating in the shallow end like socially awkward penguins, someone's older brother doing a cannonball that definitely violated at least three safety codes, and that one sophomore who'd already had too many punch and was currently teaching everyone how to Dougie on the diving board.

And then there was the palm reader.

She'd set up a folding table near the patio umbrellas, complete with a crystal ball that was definitely from Amazon and a sign that said "MYSTICAL MADAM ROSA—$5 FOR YOUR DESTINY."

My palm had already been read. Apparently, my "life line" was "unusually short" which—rude? And I'd apparently "meet a tall dark stranger" which, cool, except I'm gay, so Madam Rosa really needed to update her algorithm.

"Look," I said, gesturing toward the mechanical bull. "If I ride it, it's, like, a whole thing. Character development. Main character energy."

Maya snorted. "It's you falling off a plastic animal in front of half the school."

"EXACTLY. Vulnerability. Growth."

"You're gonna eat it."

"Maybe. But at least I'll be the person who TRIED."

The truth was, I was tired of being the background character in my own life. Tired of letting fear make my decisions. Tired of being the friend who watches from the sidelines while everyone else takes their turn.

I walked toward the mechanical bull.

Behind me, Maya called out, "Leah, WAIT—" and I thought she was gonna say something cautionary, something practical about concussions or dignity.

Instead, she yelled, "I'm recording this for the GROUP CHAT—" and then, "I'm going NEXT."

And yeah, I lasted approximately four seconds. And yeah, I fell directly into the unfortunate arms of Tyler from physics class, who'd been standing entirely too close to the landing zone.

But Maya rode that bull for twenty-three seconds, screaming the entire time like she was simultaneously terrified and living her best life.

And somewhere in between us both face-planting and the entire pool losing their collective minds, something shifted. We weren't just watching anymore.

Later, nursing bruised elbows and stolen sodas by the pool's edge, Maya grinned at me.

"We're NEVER doing that again."

"Absolutely not."

"...next weekend?"

"Next weekend."