The Palm Reader's Prophecy

My palms were sweating so much I could barely grip the five-dollar bill. The sign above the neon-lit trailer said MADAME ZORA — KNOWS ALL, TELLS MOST. Senior Spring Fair, and somehow I'd let Maya talk me into this nonsense.

"You have an interesting line here," Zora said, tracing my hand with a purple fingernail. "A spy in your midst. Someone watching."

I laughed nervously. "Okay, that's creepy as hell."

She pressed a tiny packet into my palm. "Vitamin C. For stress. You'll need it."

I shoved it in my pocket, feeling ridiculous. But then I saw him — the new kid, River, standing by the punch bowl, phone raised exactly at the right angle to be recording me. Our eyes locked. His phone vanished into his hoodie pocket.

Monday at school, I couldn't focus. Every time I turned around, River was there. By my locker. Outside English. In the cafeteria line. Was I paranoid, or was Madame Zora actually right?

"You're being weird," Maya said at lunch, stealing my apple. "And you're letting your banana get all brown and gross."

"I think someone's spying on me."

"Spying?" She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Sherlock Holmes. Did you forget your meds again?"

"No! And thanks for announcing that to the whole cafeteria."

But that afternoon, I found a note folded into a tiny triangle on my desk: "Meet me behind the gym after school. Come alone."

My heart pounded. This was it. The confrontation. The spy reveal. Whatever nightmare scenario my brain had concocted.

River was already there, leaning against the brick wall, hair falling in his face. He straightened up when he saw me.

"I saw you," I said, surprised my voice didn't shake. "At the fair. Recording me."

"I wasn't recording you," River said, pulling out his phone. "I was recording Madame Zora. For my investigative journalism piece on scam artists targeting teenagers." He scrolled through photos — Zora, her trailer, receipts from "charitable donations" that were actually just cash deposits.

"Oh."

"Yeah. You were just... in the frame." He shrugged. "But hey, thanks to you, I got enough evidence. The school's shutting her down. Apparently she's been scamming kids for years."

I stood there, feeling like an idiot. Madame Zora hadn't predicted anything. She'd just seen River and knew she was busted.

"So," River said, "since I kind of ruined your weekend by spying on you... want to get coffee? My treat."

I looked at my palm. Still sweaty. But maybe, just maybe, it was from something other than fear this time.

"Only if you promise not to investigate me."

"No promises," he grinned. "But I'll buy you a vitamin water to make up for it."