Palm Readings at Sunset

The beach party was supposed to be legendary, but Maya stood near the snack table clutching her plastic cup of **orange** soda like it was a lifeline. Around her, the popular kids laughed in that effortless way that made everything look easy. Maya's fingers kept twisting into her **palm**, leaving crescent-moon indentations—her nervous habit she couldn't break.

"You know," a voice said, "palm reading says those marks mean you're overthinking everything."

Maya jumped. It was Leo, the quiet guy from her English class, holding a half-eaten **orange**. His golden retriever, Barnaby, wagged beside him like a furry metronome.

"Since when do you read palms?" Maya asked, trying to sound chill but probably failing.

"Since five minutes ago, when I found this app." Leo grinned. "Your lifeline's decent, but your heart line's a mess."

Barnaby chose that moment to shake vigorously, spraying seawater all over Maya's favorite white sneakers. The **dog** looked delighted with himself.

"Barnaby, no!" Leo groaned, but Maya found herself laughing—really laughing, not the polite fake laugh she'd been using all night.

"Your **dog** just baptized my shoes," she said. "That's definitely not in my palm reading destiny."

"Nah, Barnaby just knows who needs shaking up." Leo tossed the **orange** to her. "Consider it a peace offering."

They sat on the sand while Barnaby chased waves, talking about everything and nothing until the sky turned that perfect **orange** of coastal sunsets. For the first time all night, Maya's palm stayed relaxed. Some futures, she realized, you didn't need to predict—you just had to let them find you, usually in the most unexpected ways.