Palm Readings & Orange Cats

The gym was transformed for the Fall Fling, but honestly? It just smelled like desperation and too much body spray.

"You're actually gonna do it?" Maya asked, side-eyeing me like I'd suggested we eat lunch in the bathroom.

"It's five bucks, Maya. For a palm reading. I need to know if I'm gonna survive AP Chem or if I should just drop out now and become a TikTok famous houseplant mom."

The fortune teller was definitely a sophomore named Jordan with way too much eyeliner, but I was desperate. My social life was basically nonexistent — unless you counted my mom's orange cat, Pickles, who judged me from across the dinner table every night. The cat had more rizz than I did, and that was saying something.

I sat down and Jordan grabbed my hand, squinting at my palm like it was written in ancient emoji.

"Hmm," they said dramatically. "I see... great turmoil. A betrayal. Something orange."

"That's literally just my cat," I said, trying to pull my hand back. "Pickles threw up on my favorite hoodie yesterday."

"No, no." Jordan shook their head. "The universe speaks in mysterious ways. Also, you're vitamin D deficient. Drink more milk."

I stared at them. "Is that in my palm or are you just guessing?"

"The lines never lie, fam."

I walked away five dollars poorer and with a prescription for calcium, but honestly? I kind of felt seen. Not by the universe, but by the fact that we were all just making it up as we went. Even Jordan with their fake mystic vibes was probably just trying to pay for their own vitamin supplements.

"So?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "What's the verdict?"

"Apparently I need milk and something orange is gonna change my life," I said, popping a gummy vitamin from my pocket. "Honestly? Same."

We both started laughing, and somewhere between the palm readings and the terrible DJ playing mashups from 2022, I realized maybe high school wasn't about having it all figured out. Maybe it was just about finding your people, surviving the awkward moments, and letting the cat — whatever your version of Pickles was — be part of the story.

Besides, Jordan was right about one thing: something orange was coming. But it wasn't a prophecy. It was just the sunset through the gym windows, and for the first time all year, I actually felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.