Static and Palm Lines

Maya's phone died at 11:47 PM—literally the exact moment Jake was finally walking toward her across Ryan's basement. She frantically patted her pockets, realizing she'd left her charging cable upstairs in her backpack. Why did she always do this? Always overthinking, always unprepared.

"Hey," Jake said, leaning against the pool table. "Having fun?"

"Yeah! Totally!" Maya squeaked. She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping he couldn't tell she'd been hiding in the bathroom for twenty minutes practicing what to say if he talked to her.

Ryan appeared beside them, announcing that his cousin Luna was doing palm readings in the corner. Because apparently that was a thing now. Jake shrugged and grabbed Maya's hand—her actual hand—pulling her toward the setup.

"Let me see," Luna said, turning Maya's palm upward. Her eyes widened. "Whoa."

"What?" Maya asked. "Is it bad? Is my life gonna be tragic?"

"No, it's just... your life line is like, completely straight." Luna lowered her voice. "That means you're scared to take risks."

Everyone laughed. Maya felt her face burn. Jake was right there.

Then Ryan's cat, a calico named Mango, leaped onto the table and knocked over a speaker. The HDMI cable connecting the TV snapped loose, and the screen went black just as lightning flashed through the basement windows. Thunder shook the floorboards.

"Guess that's the universe telling us to actually talk instead of staring at screens," Jake said, smiling at Maya.

The group groaned but moved to the couches. Someone found an acoustic guitar. They spent the rest of the storm talking about their most embarrassing moments—Jake confessed he'd once waved at someone who was waving at someone behind him. Maya admitted she'd pretended to know a band at a concert and spent the whole show confused.

When the rain stopped, everyone exchanged contacts. Maya wrote Jake's number on her hand with a Sharpie.

"Straight line or not," Jake said, "you're taking a risk right now."

Maya walked home in the drizzle, her palm stained with ink, her phone still dead, and somehow it didn't matter at all.