Palm Sweaty, Heart Ready

Maya's palms were practically dripping as she stood at the edge of Jake's pool party, clutching her red solo cup like it was a lifeline. She'd spent three hours straightening her hair and another twenty practicing palm reading on YouTube, because apparently that was her thing now? Desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Hey, you coming in?" Jake called from the pool, water sluicing off his stupidly perfect abs.

"Yeah! Just, uh, hydrating," Maya lied, taking a nervous sip from her empty cup.

That's when Luna, Jake's Golden Retriever, decided Maya was her new best friend. The dog bounded over, soaking wet, and shook herself vigorously directly onto Maya's carefully curated outfit. Jake was laughing.

"Dude, your dog's trying to drown me," Maya called back, pretending to be annoyed while internally screaming because her eyeliner was probably running down her face.

"You got something in your teeth," Jake's best friend Marcus casually pointed out, because teenage boys were the absolute worst.

SPINACH. From her lunch earlier. Of course.

Maya bolted toward the snack table, grabbed a handful of spinach from the veggie tray (because she was petty like that), and started chewing like a demon possessed. This was it. This was how her social life would end: drowning in chlorinated water and spinach chunks while Jake watched.

"That's one way to get your greens," Jake said, suddenly beside her, handing her a fresh cup of water. His hand grazed hers—sweaty palm against sweaty palm—and something in her stomach did a little flip that wasn't from nerves.

"I'm so extra," Maya groaned, wiping her mouth.

"Nah," Jake shrugged. "I think you're kind of brilliant. Also, Marcus was lying about the spinach. Your teeth are fine."

Maya stared at him. "You're kidding."

"Maybe." Jake's grin was wicked. "But you should definitely teach me that palm reading stuff."

Her heart did that stupid fluttery thing again. Maybe desperate measures weren't so desperate after all.