The Oracle of 3rd Period Bio

Leo's palms were sweating. Literally sweating.

"Dude, chill," Marcus whispered, elbowing him. "It's just a talent show. Not like you're actually predicting the future."

But Leo WAS predicting the future. Or at least, he'd convinced himself he could after watching those YouTube tutorials at 3 AM for three weeks straight.

The gym lights were blinding. He could see Principal Zhang in the front row, arms crossed, looking like she regretted approving this particular assembly.

"Next up... Leo Martinez, Palm Reader Extraordinaire!" The student announcer's voice cracked on 'Extraordinaire.' Someone in the back yelled "WOO!" and Leo's stomach did a complete flip.

He walked to the center of the gym, his vintage vest (thrifted, obviously) feeling suddenly ridiculous. The plan had been solid: call up volunteers, read their palms, drop some vague-but-tingling predictions about love, success, and maybe an unexpected journey.

Instead, his brain decided to abandon ship.

"So, uh, who wants to know their future?" Leo's voice squeaked. The gym went silent. He could hear the air conditioning humming. He could see Brittany and her friends whispering, probably about how he'd wasted everyone's study hall time.

Then Jake Chen—actual Jake Chen, varsity basketball Jake Chen, who Leo had been lowkey obsessed with since October—raised his hand.

The crowd collectively gasped.

Jake walked up to the stage, grinning like this was all hilarious. "Alright, Oracle. Tell me my future."

Leo reached for Jake's hand. His own palm was so sweaty he was practically slipping.

"Okay, so..." Leo stared at Jake's hand. "Your life line is... pretty long. That's good, right? Means you won't, like, die young."

Someone snorted.

"And, uh, this line here—that's your love line?" Leo was improvising wildly. "It's, like, connected to your... brain line? Which means you're smart about relationships?"

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure I made that up, but okay."

"Wait, what's that?" Leo squinted at Jake's pinky finger. "Is that... spinach?"

The gym went DEAD silent.

Jake stared at his hand. Then at Leo. Then back at his hand.

"Oh my GOD," Jake groaned. "I had a spinach smoothie for breakfast."

"You drink spinach SMOOTHIES?" someone yelled.

Jake covered his face. "It's for basketball recovery! Our trainer said—"

"Your future," Leo announced with sudden confidence, "is that you will consume more green vegetables than any human should."

The gym EXPLODED.

People were HOWLING. Even Principal Zhang was cracking up. Jake was laughing so hard he had to sit down on the stage edge.

Leo felt something shift. The suffocating pressure in his chest loosened. He looked at the crowd—really looked at them—and realized they weren't judging him. They were just... entertained.

"Anyone else?" Leo called out. "I also do iPhone fortunes based on your lock screen wallpaper."

Hands shot up everywhere.

Later, as they were leaving the gym, someone's dog—a golden retriever puppy someone had apparently brought in the chaos—bounded over and jumped on Leo, knocking him backward. He landed hard, his phone skidding across the floor.

"DUDE your SCREEN!" Marcus gasped.

Leo's iPhone had a massive crack across the display. But somehow, staring at the shattered glass, he couldn't stop grinning.

Jake appeared above him, offering a hand. "That was legendary, Leo. Seriously."

Leo took Jake's hand—palm to palm—and let himself be pulled up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Also," Jake pulled something from his pocket, "I have a spare charger cable in my locker if you need to backup your phone before it dies completely."

Leo's stomach did that flip again. But different this time.

"Bro," he said, "you're literally the best."

The dog barked, as if in agreement.

Somewhere in the distance, the bell rang. 4th period was starting. And Leo—former nobody, current accidental comedy legend—walked to class with the cracked iPhone in his pocket and Jake Chen's charger cable in his hand, feeling like maybe, just maybe, he actually could predict the future after all.

At least, he hoped so.