Palm Swept Secrets
Maya's hair was absolutely not cooperating. She'd spent forty-five minutes trying to tame the frizz, but between the beach humidity and her own nervous energy, it had morphed into a spectacular puffball that made her look like she'd stuck a fork in an electrical socket.
"You look fine, Maya. You literally always look fine," Chloe said, though her best friend's expression said otherwise.
They were at Tyler's end-of-summer party, which meant one thing: Maya was finally going to talk to Jake. The Jake. The one who sat behind her in history and smelled like cedar and confidence. Her palms were already sweating, which was disgusting and obvious and why did hands even have sweat glands?
Suddenly, a massive golden retriever came barreling through the crowd, sending snacks flying. The dog tackled Jake, who laughed and scratched the dog's ears, and Maya's heart did this embarrassing fluttery thing.
"His name's Bear," Jake called out, catching Maya staring. "Weird name, right?"
"Yeah, super weird," she managed, which was possibly the dumbest response ever uttered.
Chloe pushed Maya toward him. "Go talk to him. Bear with me, I'm not letting you chicken out again."
Maya's palms were practically dripping now. She walked over, trying to look casual and definitely not like someone having a mild panic attack.
"Hey," Jake said, grinning. "I like your hair. It's... adventurous."
She almost died. But then she realized he wasn't being sarcastic.
"Thanks, it's got a mind of its own. Like a sphinx with attitude problems."
He laughed, and Maya relaxed. Bear the dog nudged her hand, and she scratched behind his ears, finally not sweating.
"Want to get food?" Jake asked. "Bear already ate my chips, but I think there's pizza."
"Totally," Maya said, and Chloe gave her a thumbs up from across the yard.
For the first time all night, Maya wasn't thinking about her hair or her sweaty palms or saying the wrong thing. She was just walking toward the pizza table with Jake and his ridiculous dog, and somehow, that was enough.