Sweaty Palms and Orange Gummies

My palms were literally dripping onto my math homework. Again.

"You good?" Maya whispered from across the table, genuinely concerned instead of laughing at me like her friends would.

"Yeah," I lied. Because what was I supposed to say—that I was freaking out about Jordan's party Friday and the fact that I still hadn't worked up the nerve to ask if I could actually go?

That's when my mom's text popped up: Don't forget your vitamin gummies!! Complete with three exclamation points because she's extra like that.

I sighed dramatically and fished the orange bottle from my backpack. Maya's eyebrows shot up.

"Your mom still makes you take those?"

"It's either these or the chalk tablets from seventh grade," I said, chewing two aggressively. "Don't judge my journey."

Maya snorted. "Girl, same. My mom tried to get me into those wellness influencers who talk about 'optimizing your gut microbiome' like it's a personality trait."

We both cracked up. Maya Martinez, sitting with ME in the library on a Tuesday like this was normal.

Then Jordan walked past our table. I froze. My palms suddenly decided to recreate Niagara Falls.

"He's gonna be at the party too," Maya said quietly. "You should ask him."

"Absolutely not," I said way too fast. "That's giving anxiety and I'm not here for it."

Maya leveled me with this look. "That's bull, Riley. You've been crushing on him since freshman year. This is your chance."

I stared at her. Maya, who hung out with the popular crowd. Maya, who could've sat anywhere but chose my awkward anxiety-ridden company.

"What if he says no?" I whispered.

"Then you move on with your life. But at least you'll know instead of wondering what could've happened." She checked her phone. "Plus, you're lowkey adorable when you're not overthinking everything."

I swallowed. My heart was doing that thing where it felt like it might actually exit my chest.

I grabbed another vitamin gummy. For courage, obviously.

By Friday, my palms were so sweaty I could've watered a succulent with them. But when Jordan opened his front door and I finally, actually said the words out loud—"Hey, so, can I get your number?"—he didn't even hesitate.

"Yeah," he said, pulling out his phone like it was the most normal thing in the world. "I was hoping you'd ask."

I caught Maya's eye across the room. She winked.

My palms were still sweating. But I think that's just my baseline at this point.