Palm Reading at Tyler's Party

Maya adjusted her baseball cap, pulling the brim lower. Bad hair day was an understatement — more like bad hair life after the DIY dye job went wrong. Now here she was, at Tyler's house party, hiding under a hat like she was on some wanted poster.

The social pyramid of sophomore year had Tyler at the peak, and somehow Maya had stumbled into his inner sanctum. Her hands sweated in the denim pockets of her cutoffs.

"You doing the palm thing?" Sierra asked, bouncing over with red solo cup in hand. Maya's palms literally prickled. Everyone knew about Tyler's mom — the "psychic" who'd read fortunes at her kitchen table like she was dispensing homework advice.

Before Maya could dodge, Sierra grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the kitchen. There sat Mrs. Chen, spreading a lace cloth over the table like it was something sacred and not just where they probably ate breakfast.

"Sit," Mrs. Chen said, gesturing. Maya's heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She extended her left hand, palm up, exposing the lines that supposedly held her future.

Mrs. Chen traced her lifeline with a manicured fingernail. "You're hiding something. Under that hat, maybe?"

Maya's face burned. "My hair—"

"Your hair is perfect," Mrs. Chen said, sharply. "The hair isn't the problem. You're trying to disappear under that cap like a cat under a porch. But cats hide because they're hunting. You're hiding because you're afraid to be seen."

The kitchen went quiet. Tyler and his friends had gathered, watching like this was performance art.

"Your palm says you're waiting for permission to exist," Mrs. Chen continued. "But nobody's giving it to you, sweetheart. You have to take it."

Something cracked open in Maya's chest. She reached up and tugged off the baseball cap. The pink-streaked, unevenly cropped mess tumbled out. Sierra gasped. Tyler's eyebrows shot up.

Maya looked at her palm, then at the circle of faces. "Yeah," she said, voice stronger than she felt. "I dyed it myself. It looks terrible."

"It looks brave," Tyler said, and something in his tone made Maya realize even pyramid-toppers had their own insecurities.

Mrs. Chen squeezed her hand. "That's the real reading. Now go enjoy the party."

Maya didn't put the cap back on.