Palm Reader's Prophecy

The humidity in the gymnasium was criminal. My hair had expanded to approximately three times its normal volume, defying physics and the expensive gel I'd put in earlier. I looked like a electrocuted poodle.

"You good, bro?" Marcus asked, somehow still looking fresh in his navy suit.

"I'm gonna **bear** it," I mopped my forehead with a napkin. "Like, literally. I am bearing the weight of social anxiety right now."

He laughed and clapped my shoulder. "You're overthinking it. Maya's not gonna care about your hair."

Maya. The reason I was even at this disaster of a homecoming dance. She was somewhere in this sea of sweaty teenagers and terrible DJ choices, probably looking perfect.

My palms were sweating so bad I could barely grip my phone. I wiped them on my pants—again—for the fiftieth time. The fabric was definitely going to show it later.

Then I saw her. Maya Chen, standing near the bleachers in that gold dress that caught every crappy disco light. She was laughing with her friends, tossing her hair back like she was in a music video.

I started toward her, but my feet had other plans. I veered left and ended up at the photo booth instead.

"Hey!" It was Sarah from AP Bio. She was holding some cheesy props. "Wanna do a group shot?"

Before I could respond, she pulled me in. There were five of us squished into that tiny booth, and in the chaos of everyone squeezing together, my hand brushed against Maya's arm. She'd somehow ended up next to me.

She looked at me, really looked at me, and smiled. "Your hair's kind of awesome, by the way."

My brain short-circuited. "What?"

"It's got personality," she said, like she meant it. "Mine never does anything interesting."

The camera flash went off, blinding us both. We stumbled out of the booth laughing, and somehow, my hand ended up in hers. Her **palm** was soft, and she didn't pull away.

"Wanna get out of here?" she asked. "There's actual food at the after-party at Jake's."

**Bear** with me for a second—I think this night might actually turn out okay.