Palm Reader's Prophecy

I looked like a zombie. Not the cool, glittery Instagram kind — the genuine article: dark circles under my eyes, skin practically translucent, hair doing whatever it wanted. Three days of finals will do that to you.

"You need a palm reading," Chloe declared, dragging me toward her makeshift setup at her birthday party. "Trust me, I saw it on TikTok. It's literally life-changing."

I wanted to bail. But there was Ethan by the snack table, and I'd been low-key spying on his Spotify profile for weeks, analyzing whether his listening habits meant he was emotionally available. (Verdict: inconclusive.)

Chloe grabbed my hand, traced the lines with exaggerated seriousness. "You're going to have an amazing summer. I see... adventure. Romance. And something about a fish."

"A fish?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're making this up."

"Am not! Look at your lifeline, it practically screams aquatic destiny."

We both cracked up. But then Ethan actually walked over, and my brain went full static.

"Hey," he said. "Chloe told me you're into photography."

"Uh, yeah?" Why was my voice doing that thing?

"Cool. I found this old film camera at a garage sale, but I have no idea how to use it. Maybe you could help me figure it out?"

Later that night, I found myself at his kitchen table, surrounded by camera parts and a very confused goldfish named Bubbles that kept staring at us through its bowl.

"So," Ethan said, accidentally getting developer solution on his palm. "About time."

"What about time?"

"I've been waiting for an excuse to talk to you all year. Chloe told me you'd be here. She's kind of the best wingman ever."

My stomach did that thing where it forgets how to be an organ. "Wait, Chloe set this up?"

"The palm reading? The fish prophecy? Yeah, she's terrifyingly good at this."

I looked at my hand, then at him, then at Bubbles the goldfish, who was definitely spying on us now.

"So," I said, letting myself smile for real. "About that camera."