Palm Reader's Secret

Maya's older brother Jay called bullshit the second she announced her new talent at dinner. "You're gonna read palms? Seriously?"

"For real," Maya insisted, though her palm felt sweaty against her jeans. "Madame Zora taught me at the mall." Complete lie, but whatever. The alternative—admitting she'd spent three hours spying on Brayden's Instagram to memorize his dog's name, his hair gel brand, and that he hated spinach—felt way too pathetic.

"Let me see," Chloe said the next day at lunch, extending her hand. Maya traced the lines, pretending to see things: "You'll meet someone... their name starts with B..."

"Brayden?" Chloe gasped. "Because he was literally staring at your hair yesterday, Maya."

Maya's pulse kicked up. She'd spent twenty minutes curling her hair that morning. "You think?"

"Duh. He called me over to ask about you. Said he noticed your vintage band shirt." Chloe lowered her voice. "His dog just had puppies, by the way. He's lowkey obsessed with them."

The pieces clicked. All those Instagram story views weren't accidental. The palm-reading bit wasn't necessary, but it gave her an excuse to talk to people, to gather intel without looking desperate.

"So what do I do?" Maya asked.

Chloe grinned. "Stop with the palm reader act. Just message him. Ask about the dogs. Be normal, I swear."

"Normal's overrated," Maya said, but she took out her phone anyway.

The next day, Brayden sat next to her in chemistry. "So," he said, tapping his desk, "Chloe says you can tell fortunes."

Maya laughed. "She's lying. I just... pay attention."

"To my stories?" His face went red. "That's actually kind of flattering."

She felt her own cheeks burn. "Spying's a strong word."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing." He grinned. "My hair looks that good up close, huh?"

"You're so full of it," she said, but she was smiling.

"Come meet the dogs after school," he said. "If you can guess which one is my favorite, I'll tell you what I actually wrote in your yearbook."

"Deal."

Jay called bullshit again when she got home. But some things, she decided, didn't need explaining.