Palm Reader's Prophecy

My stomach did backflips as I sat across from Fox—the nickname everyone gave Marco because of that sly grin and his rust-orange hair. He was leaning against the palm tree in Maya's backyard, ostensibly studying for finals, but mostly just existing beautifully.

"You're staring again," whispered Jenna, shoving my shoulder. We were at the pre-graduation party, the one where everyone pretended we weren't all terrified about becoming "real adults" in three months. Some genius had decided palm reading would be a fun activity.

"It's your turn," Maya announced, grabbing my hand. "Ooh, interesting."

The whole group went silent. Maya's eyebrows drew together. "Your life line is... really short."

My chest tightened. "What does that mean?"

"It means you need to take more chances," Fox said, suddenly beside us. He grinned. "That's my interpretation, anyway."

Later that night, I found myself taking my mom's vitamin C supplements from the kitchen cabinet, swallowing three with tap water. Because apparently I was now the person who believed in palm readings and needed to boost my immune system against existential dread.

The supplements didn't help. Neither did Fox's continued presence everywhere I went—coffee shop, library, the mailbox. Every encounter left me tongue-tied and ridiculous.

"Just talk to him," Jenna said after I spent ten minutes analyzing the meaning of Fox asking to borrow my pen.

"I can't. What if my palm was right? What if I don't have time?"

"Then make time," she said. "You're being dramatic."

The breakthrough happened at the beach bonfire. Fox sat beside me in the sand, watching the flames.

"Hey," he said. "Remember Maya's party?"

"Unfortunately."

He laughed. "I looked up palm reading after. It's basically nonsense. But the thing you said about wanting to try filmmaking school instead of business? That stuck with me."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "It did?"

"Yeah." He turned to me, flames reflecting in his eyes. "Your palm might be short on time. But we've all got short time. Might as well spend it doing what we actually want."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "When did you get so wise?"

"Always have been," he grinned, then nudged my shoulder. "So, filmmaking?"

"Yeah. Filmmaking."

The vitamin supplements went in the trash that night. Some things you can't supplement. Some things you just have to choose.