Palm Reader's Prophecy

The carnival lights blurred into neon streaks as I stood outside the purple tent, heart doing backflips. My crush, Tyler, was playing ring toss nearby with his friends, completely unaware of my existence.

"You got this, Maya," Chloe whispered, shoving me toward the fortune teller booth. "It's just a palm reading. What's the worst that could happen?"

Everything. The worst thing was everything.

Inside, the air smelled like patchouli and desperation. An old woman with more wrinkles than a prune grabbed my hand before I could say anything. She traced the lines on my palm with a fingernail that was definitely too long.

"Interesting," she muttered. "You will face a great beast soon." She peered at me over thick glasses. "And someone close to you is not telling you the whole story. They're feeding you...bull."

"Bull?" I repeated.

"Bullshit, to be precise." She nodded sagely. "Also, you need more vitamin D in your diet. Your aura is practically translucent."

I left the tent feeling weirdly exposed and also concerned about my vitamin intake. But the prophecy about the "beast" and the "bull" kept echoing in my head.

Chloe was waiting, bouncing on her heels. "Well? What did she say?"

Before I could answer, Tyler walked over. My palms started sweating immediately. Like, actually sweating.

"Hey Maya," he said, smiling that smile that made my knees forget how to be knees. "You going to ride the mechanical bull?"

"What?"

"The bull challenge," Chloe said, eyes wide. "I signed you up. You're next."

"You did WHAT?"

"It'll be so fun!" Chloe squealed, but I caught the tiny smirk she was hiding.

The old fortune teller's words slammed into me. Someone close feeding me bull. Chloe had signed me up for a BULL ride knowing how terrified I was of public humiliation.

I stared at my best friend, then at the mechanical bull spinning menacingly in the center of the carnival, and finally at Tyler, who was watching me with this hopeful expression that made my stomach do actual gymnastics.

"Fine," I said, accepting my fate. "But if I die, delete my browser history."

The bull ride lasted exactly 4.7 seconds. I got thrown off sideways into the safety padding while Tyler and everyone else cheered. I landed hard, dignity completely shattered, hair looking like a squirrel had nested in it.

But when I looked up, Tyler was laughing. Not mean laughing—real laughing, eyes crinkling, head thrown back. And he reached down to help me up.

"That was epic, Maya," he said. "Way better than my attempt." He held up his phone. "I got it on video."

My face burned. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"Nope." He grinned. "I'm sending it to you. Also, you know that Chloe did this because you've been talking about me for like three months straight and she finally got sick of it?"

I stared at him. "What?"

"The bull? The prophecy?" He shrugged. "Chloe told me everything. She was trying to help you make a move."

Chloe. The traitor. The best friend. The bull-shitter.

But then Tyler's hand lingered on mine as he pulled me up, and his smile softened into something that made all the embarrassment worth it.

"So," he said, "want to go get some food? My treat. We can talk about whatever vitamins the fortune teller said you needed."

"Vitamin D," I said automatically, then mentally facepalmed. "I mean—yeah. Food sounds good."

As we walked away from the carnival lights, leaving Chloe behind to give us thumbs up, I realized something. Sometimes the universe (or a Chloe-instigated disaster) pushes you toward exactly where you need to be. And sometimes that looks like being humiliated on a mechanical bull in front of your crush.

And sometimes, that's exactly how your story begins.