Palm Readings and Party Vibes

Maya's palms were sweating. Like, actually dripping, which was gross and definitely not the vibe she was going for at her first high school party. She clutched her phone to her chest like a shield, her thumb hovering over her best friend's contact. The lonely iPhone illuminated her face in the corner of someone's basement while everyone else seemed to be living their best lives.

"You look like you're calculating the escape velocity needed to leave this conversation," a voice said.

Maya jumped. A lanky guy with messy hair and an honest-to-god cat on his shoulder stood there. The cat—a calico with attitude—was perched like it owned the place.

"That's Mr. Whiskers," he said, like this was normal. "He's my emotional support animal for socially awkward situations. Which is all of them, honestly."

The cat licked its paw with supreme judgment.

"I'm Sam," the guy said. "And you look like you'd rather be anywhere else."

"Maya," she managed. "And yeah. This is... a lot."

"Same," Sam said. "I was hiding in the bathroom until Mr. Whiskers here started yowling. Apparently he's a party animal. Get it? Because he's—never mind. Bad jokes are my coping mechanism."

Maya actually laughed. The tension in her shoulders dropped about three levels.

"Want to see something cool?" Sam asked.

"Sure?"

He held out his hand. "Give me your palm."

Maya hesitated, then placed her hand in his. His fingers traced the lines on her palm, sending tiny sparks up her arm that had nothing to do with mystical fortune-telling and everything to do with how his eyes actually focused on her like she was worth looking at.

"Your lifeline is suspiciously short," Sam said solemnly. "Which means you're either going to die young or you're just really committed to living in the moment."

The cat chose that moment to sneeze directly onto Sam's arm.

"Okay, that's enough prophecy for today," Sam said, wiping cat snot onto his jeans. "But seriously—your phone's been buzzing nonstop. Someone wants to talk to you."

Maya looked at her screen. Three texts from the girl she'd been trying to impress all semester: *where r u? this party sucks without you*

"Oh," she said. "I thought everyone was ignoring me."

"Nope," Sam grinned. "You're just invisible in the corner. Been there. The cat's the only reason anyone talks to me."

"Hey," Maya said. "I talked to you."

"Before or after the cat?"

"...After."

"Exactly." The cat jumped down and trotted toward the food table like it owned the place. "He's abandoning me. Classic."

Maya typed back: *coming. found something better than snacks.*

"You coming?" Sam asked, heading toward the noise.

Maya slipped her iPhone into her pocket—screen down, finally—and followed him into the party, her palms still a little sweaty but for a completely different reason now.