Palm Reader's Prophecy

The humidity was already hitting 90% by third period, and Maya's *palm* was sweating against her phone screen as she typed.

you think he's looking at me?

Chloe's response popped back instantly: babe I've been literally *spying* on him from algebra for 45 minutes and i can confirm he has looked in your general vicinity at least twice

Maya's stomach did that thing it always did when Jackson Miller was involved — like a tiny frantic bird trying to escape. This was pathetic. She was sixteen, not twelve.

The problem wasn't just that Jackson was effortlessly gorgeous with his slightly-too-long hair and those dimples. The problem was that he'd started sitting at their lunch table. Every day. For two weeks.

Her *friend* group had theories.

He's bored, said Priya, who'd had a crush on Jackson since seventh grade and was therefore biased.

He's plotting something, said Amir.

But Maya had her own theory, one she couldn't say out loud without sounding delusional: maybe he actually wanted to be there. With her.

She found out the truth on Friday, when Jackson's massive golden retriever escaped during lunch and came barreling across the courtyard, heading straight for their table like a fuzzy torpedo. Jackson chased after it, shouting BARNABY NO with a level of panic that made Maya's heart do something complicated and painful.

Barnaby knocked over Priya's lunch tray. Jackson caught the *dog* by the collar, panting, while his face turned approximately the color of a stop sign.

Sorry, he said, not meeting anyone's eyes. He's still kinda a puppy.

It's fine, Maya said automatically, already reaching into her backpack. I have extra napkins.

They'd spent the rest of lunch period cleaning up chicken curry and rice while Barnaby made friends with everyone within a thirty-foot radius. Jackson kept apologizing, but there was something different about him today. Less confident, somehow. Real.

So, he said, while Maya was blotting curry off her jeans with a wet napkin. I was gonna wait until after school, but my *dog* seems to have other plans.

Maya's hand froze. Her *palm* was suddenly sweating again.

Yeah?

Yeah. Jackson took a breath. I was wondering if you wanted to come to my birthday thing tomorrow? My parents are doing this whole pool party thing and it's gonna be super awkward if you don't come because I've been sitting at your lunch table for two weeks trying to work up the courage to ask.

The silence that followed was possibly the most devastating silence in the history of silences.

Then Priya said: wait, you've been what now?

Maya couldn't speak. She was looking at Jackson, who was actually blushing now, and then Barnaby chose that exact moment to shake his entire body, spraying *water* everywhere from someone's abandoned water bottle.

Everyone screamed.

Jackson laughed, and when he looked at Maya, really looked at her, she knew two things with absolute certainty: one, she was absolutely going to that party, and two, her phone was definitely ruined.

Worth it, she thought, and said: I'll be there.

Barnaby barked like it was settled.

It was.