The Cat in My Palm

Marcus stood at the edge of the infinity pool, clutching a red solo cup like it was a lifeline. The liquid inside—some suspiciously blue concoction—had gone warm twenty minutes ago. Around him, the "end of sophomore year" party raged on. Kids from school who'd been invisible to each other for nine months were now suddenly best friends, bonded by Spotify playlists and illegal substances.

"You're not drinking," Maya said, appearing beside him. She was the reason he'd come, the reason he'd spent forty-five minutes fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror.

"Not thirsty."

"Liar. You're terrified."

"I'm not—"

"Your palm is sweating, Marcus. I can see it from here."

Before he could pull away, she grabbed his hand. "Let me see."

"You're not really going to read my—"

"Shh. I'm channeling my inner mystic." She traced the lines on his palm with her index finger, and something stupid happened to his heart rate. "You have a long life line. That's good, I guess. Means you'll survive whatever embarrassing thing happens next."

"That's not how it works."

"Your headline curves upward. You're creative. You see things differently. And here—" She tapped a small X near his thumb. "You're going to fall in love with someone unexpected."

"That's not even a real thing on palms."

Suddenly, something streaked past them—a blur of orange fur launching itself from the lounge chair into the pool.

"What the—" Marcus jumped back as a wet, furious cat clawed its way up the side, eyes glowing like something from a horror movie. The cat shook itself off, sprayed water everywhere, and then—horror of horrors—climbed onto Marcus's foot.

"Is that Ms. Henderson's cat?" Maya was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. "The demon cat from down the street?"

The cat glared up at them, then reached up and placed a very wet paw on Marcus's shin.

"See?" Maya wiped tears from her eyes. "Unexpected love."

Marcus looked down at the soaked creature, then at Maya's smile—all crinkly at the corners, totally unguarded, the kind of smile she never gave him in the hallway between third and fourth period—and something shifted in his chest. Something stupid and hopeful and terrifying.

"Yeah," he said. "Unexpected."

She was still holding his other hand. She didn't let go.

"Wanna help me dry him off before he scratches us to death?"

Marcus nodded, forgetting all about the warm blue drink, forgetting to be nervous, forgetting everything except that sometimes the universe had a weird way of giving you exactly what you didn't know you needed.

Sometimes it was a cat in a pool. Sometimes it was a girl reading your palm and seeing things you'd never said out loud.

Sometimes it was both.