Pyramid Schemes & Palm Readers

The bass thumped against my chest like a second heartbeat. I pressed my back against the wall, solo cup sweating in my **palm**, watching the social **pyramid** tower above me. Seniors at the peak, looking down on everyone else. Juniors in the middle, pretending they didn't care. Freshmans and sophomores scattered at the base, trying not to look like they didn't belong.

I was definitely not belonging.

"Hey, you want your fortune told?"

I spun around. This girl with fire-engine-red hair and a smirk that said she knew exactly how out of place I was. She held my gaze, everything about her screaming trouble and I was absolutely here for it.

"Sure," I said, because what else was I gonna do? Stand in the corner all night?

She grabbed my hand, her fingers warm against mine, and traced lines across my **palm** like she was reading a map. "You're gonna do something stupid tonight."

"Thanks for the heads-up."

"No, I mean it." She leaned closer, her breath smelling like fruity lip gloss and rebellion. "Something you've been wanting to do for months. Something that scares the crap out of you."

I swallowed. Hard. Because she wasn't wrong.

The front door slammed open.

"COPS!"

The music cut. Everyone froze. Then—chaos. Bodies streaming toward the back door, toward windows, toward anywhere that wasn't here. And suddenly I was **running**, air burning in my lungs, heart hammering against my ribs, this girl's hand still wrapped around mine like she wasn't letting go.

We burst through the back door and into the night, vaulting over fences and cutting through backyards, until we collapsed behind someone's shed, gasping and laughing and absolutely terrified.

"What's your name?" she asked, out of breath.

"Jordan."

"I'm Maya." She grinned like a **fox**, all cunning and wild and beautiful. "That stupid thing you were gonna do?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we just did it."