Palm Readings by the Pool

The humidity was already thick at 3 PM, clinging to my skin like a second, very unwanted layer. Standing at the edge of Sarah's above-ground pool, I felt like I was the only person at this party who didn't get the memo about being chill. Everyone else was already in the water, laughing and splashing like this was just another Saturday. But my stomach was doing that thing where it feels like tiny squirrels are fighting inside you.

"You're overthinking it again," my best friend Jordan said, appearing beside me with two sodas. "Just get in the water. Stop staring at everyone like you're conducting a field study."

"I'm not staring," I lied. "I'm observing. There's a difference."

"You're literally spiraling, Maya. Get in the pool."

Before I could respond, Sarah's eccentric Aunt Carol appeared out of nowhere, wearing a flowing caftan and holding someone's hand. "Ooh, you have an interesting life line," she was saying to some poor freshman who looked absolutely trapped. "I see great things in your future. Possibly involving marine biology."

The palm reading station was apparently now a thing. Because why wouldn't it be?

"Your turn," Jordan said, shoving me toward Aunt Carol. "Maybe she'll predict you'll actually talk to Lucas today."

Lucas. The name alone made my palms sweat even more than they already were. He was in the pool, laughing at something someone said, water droplets sliding down his arms, and I was immediately glad I was wearing a T-shirt over my swimsuit because this was already too much.

"Come here, dear," Aunt Carol said, grabbing my hand before I could escape. "Let's see what those hands are saying."

She studied my palm like it was a map to buried treasure. "Hmm. Interesting. Very interesting."

"What?" I asked, despite myself. "What's interesting?"

"You're scared of something," she said. "But you're also ready. The timing is right, but you're hesitating. There's opportunity here, but you're standing in your own way."

I stared at her. That was simultaneously the most specific and most vague thing anyone had ever said to me.

"Also," she added, "you're going to get wet very soon."

"That's not really a prediction—"

A massive crack of thunder cut me off, and suddenly the sky opened up. Rain started pouring down like someone had turned on a giant faucet, and within seconds, everyone was screaming and running toward the covered porch. Including Lucas, who was now standing two feet away from me, shaking water from his hair like a golden retriever.

"That came out of nowhere," he said, grinning at me. "You made it inside before the worst of it. Nice reflexes."

"Thanks," I managed, my voice sounding weirdly normal despite my heart pounding like I'd just finished a race. "I mean, I was already kind of hiding over here, so."

"Hiding?" He raised an eyebrow. "From what?"

"From," I paused, "from having to make small talk with random people about summer plans and stuff. It's exhausting, you know?"

Lucas laughed, and it was this actual, genuine laugh that made something in my chest do a little flip thing. "No, totally. I've been dodging questions about college applications all day. I'm pretty sure I just claimed I was interested in becoming a marine biologist just because it sounds smart and vague."

"Did you really?"

"Yes, and now I'm locked in. Someone's going to ask me about ocean conservation and I'm going to have to fake my way through it."

We stood there as the rain kept coming down, everyone else crowded onto the porch behind us, and suddenly the social anxiety that had been my constant companion all day was just... gone. Replace by something else. Something that felt a lot like being exactly where I was supposed to be.

"Hey," Lucas said, after a minute. "Since we're both hiding over here, and I've already committed to a fake marine biology future—want to get food? There's pizza inside."

"Pizza sounds amazing," I said. "And I promise not to ask you any questions about the ocean."

"Appreciated," he said, and as we walked toward the house together, I could practically hear Aunt Carol's voice in my head. Opportunity. Timing. Not standing in your own way.

Maybe palm readings weren't total nonsense after all.