Palms Read, Secrets Spilled

Maya's palms were sweating, and she knew everyone could tell. She rubbed them against her tropical-print dress—stupid, why did she let Chloe pick the outfit—while checking her reflection in the kitchen window. Her new curls were already frizzing in the July humidity at this supposedly 'chill' beach party that was actually just everyone standing awkwardly around a cooler.

"Hey, Maya!" called Jay from across the sand. He was holding a papaya he'd definitely just grabbed from the fruit display like it was a trophy. "Want some? It's actually decent."

She almost laughed. Jay—track star, completely out of her league, currently eating tropical fruit like a normal human being—was talking to her.

"I'm good," she managed, while her brain screamed, WHY DID YOU SAY THAT? SAY YES TO THE PAPAYA.

Chloe materialized beside her, grabbing her arm. "Okay, ignore him for a second. You need to get your palm read."

"What? No."

"It's Sofia, she's legit! She predicted I'd fail my math test BEFORE I even studied, which, technically—I mean, she's scary accurate."

Before Maya could protest, she was being shoved toward a blanket where Sofia sat with rose quartz crystals and way too much confidence for someone their age. Sofia took Maya's hand—her actual PALM, what was happening—and studied it like it contained the secrets to passing AP Chem.

"You're running from something," Sofia announced dramatically, and everyone around them leaned in. "But you can't run forever."

Maya's face burned. Was she that obvious? Was everyone silently judging her for ghosting Jay's texts last week?

"Also," Sofia added, dropping her voice, "your hair looks amazing like that. The change was a good call."

And just like that, something in Maya's chest loosened. She touched her curls, really seeing them for the first time.

Then Jay was beside her, somehow still holding that papaya. "Hey, sorry if that was weird earlier. About the fruit. I get nervous around people and apparently I just ... offer them tropical produce?"

Maya stared. Jay Torres got nervous? Around HER?

"I get nervous too," she blurted. "My palms were literally sweating. Like, visibly."

"Same," he said, grinning. "Wanna go stand by the water? Away from Sofia's psychic readings?"

"Yes," Maya said. "A thousand times yes."

Her palms might still be sweating. Her hair might still be frizzy. But somehow, everything felt different.