The Palm Reader's Hat

Maya's 16th birthday party was supposed to be low-key — just the squad, some TikToks, maybe a spontaneous dance party that ended up on someone's story. But then her cousin Jasmine brought out the makeshift fortune-teller setup she'd found in their grandma's attic, and suddenly everyone was lining up for palm readings like this was a legit thing people did.

I was third in line, mostly because Leo was fourth, and I'd been lowkey obsessed with him since he transferred to our school in September. He was the kind of cute that made you forget how to form sentences, which was exactly why I hadn't spoken to him once in seven months. Pathetic, I know.

"You're next," Jasmine said, adjusting her dad's old fedora like she was channeling some mystical fortune-teller energy from 1920. The hat was simultaneously the cringest and most endearing thing I'd ever seen.

I sat down across from her, extending my hand. My palm was sweaty — classic nervous response, thanks anxiety — but Jasmine didn't seem to notice. She traced the lines with dramatic seriousness.

"Hmm," she said, squinting like she was decoding ancient texts instead of just looking at my hand. "You're hiding something big. Like, identity-who level secret."

The squad laughed, but my stomach dropped. Jasmine knew about the gender stuff — we'd talked about it late at night during sleepovers, those vulnerable conversations that happened at 2 AM when everyone else was asleep. I wasn't ready for this to be casual party conversation, especially not with Leo sitting three feet away.

"Also," Jasmine continued, her voice dropping to that ~mysterious~ tone she used when she wanted attention, "someone here is watching you like a literal spy. They've been noticing everything."

My eyes shot to Leo before I could stop them. He was already looking at me, which made my face do that thing where it becomes a human tomato. He didn't look away. Instead, this tiny smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

"Your aura's orange," Jasmine announced, finally releasing my hand. "Passionate, creative, totally not ready for whatever's coming but gonna figure it out anyway because that's your energy."

Later, when everyone else was outside arguing about what song to play next, Leo found me in the kitchen, grabbing another soda.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the counter like this was somehow his natural habitat.

"Hey," I managed, my voice somehow not cracking. Progress.

"I saw you earlier," he said, and for a second I panicked — had he noticed me noticing him? Was I that obvious? "At school, by the art room. You had those headphones with the orange cat stickers."

Oh. He'd noticed ME.

"Yeah," I said, feeling something warm and unfamiliar bloom in my chest. "Those are my favorites."

"They're cool," he said. "Maybe I'll see you there sometime? Unless you're always in spy mode or something."

Was he... flirting? With ME?

"Maybe," I said, and the genuine smile that broke across my face felt like the first real one I'd worn all night. "I'm not very good at being covert though."

"Good," he said, and something in his expression made me think maybe Jasmine's fortune-teller bit wasn't completely ridiculous after all. "That would make things complicated."

Outside, someone started playing our song, and suddenly 16 didn't feel so scary anymore.