Palm Readings & Green Smoothies

Maya's mom had gone full wellness phase — hence the spinach smoothie that was currently the most embarrassing thing in her backpack. The cafeteria was loud, people shouting across tables, someone's laughter cracking through the chaos. Maya pressed her **palm** against her forehead, feeling like a total **zombie** after staying up until 3 AM finishing her AP History essay that she'd procrastinated on for, like, two weeks.

"You okay?" Kai slid into the seat across from her, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes. "You look dead."

"Thriving," Maya said, sliding the smoothie cup across the table. "Want some? It's... actually don't drink it, my mom's trying to kill me."

Kai laughed, and Maya felt that weird flutter in her chest that she'd been trying to ignore since September. He'd transferred to their school at the start of sophomore year, all quiet confidence and mysterious smiles, and somehow they'd ended up as lab partners. Now they sat together at lunch sometimes, and it was fine. Totally fine. Except she overthought everything he said.

"My cousin's doing **palm** readings at the spring fair tomorrow," Kai said, studying the green smoothie with suspicious fascination. "Wanna go? Could be fun. Or terrible. Probably terrible."

Maya's stomach did a flip. "Like, actually? For real?"

"Unless you have something better to do." He grinned, and there was that thing again — the flutter, the warmth, the oh no.

The spring fair was overwhelming in that way school events always were, too loud, too many people trying too hard. But Kai's cousin, some college student with too many rings and an incredibly convincing serious face, took Maya's hand and traced the lines on her **palm** with practiced fingers.

"You're worried about something," the cousin said. "Big decision coming up. But you already know what you want. You're just scared to say it out loud."

Maya pulled her hand back, face burning. Kai was watching her, really watching her, and suddenly the spinach smoothie embarrassment seemed small compared to this moment, this terrifying, electric moment where everything could change or nothing could, and she wouldn't know which until she did something.

"Yeah," Maya said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think I do know."

She looked at Kai, really looked at him, and saw the same scared hope she felt reflected back. The cousin was already moving on to the next person, but Maya stood there, heart pounding, aware that she was about to do something brave or something stupid, and maybe those were the same thing when you were sixteen and the world felt huge and terrifying and absolutely worth it.