The Palm Reader's Prophecy

Maya's palms were sweating so much she could practically water plants with them. Standing in line at the carnival's fortune teller booth, she checked her reflection in the dark glass—yep, still had that tiny piece of **spinach** wedged between her front teeth. Because of course.

"You okay?" Liam asked beside her, and Maya's stomach did that weird flippy thing it always did around him lately.

"Totally," she lied. "Just... preparing for my future to be revealed."

Her future, according to the universe, currently involved being sixteen, socially awkward, and nursing a massive crush on her best friend who saw her as "one of the guys." Typical.

The carnival booth's curtain swept back. An old woman with silver-streaked hair and entirely too many rings beckoned them forward. Maya's **palm** itched with nerves as she extended her hand.

"Ah," the fortune teller said, squinting at her lifeline. "You carry great uncertainty. But you also carry—" She paused, squinting harder. "Is that... green vegetable matter in your teeth?"

Maya wanted to dissolve into the carnival floor. Seriously.

"It's part of my authentic look," Liam said, totally saving her. "She's starting a trend."

The fortune teller cackled. "You're a good one. Hold onto him."

They exited the booth, Maya wiping desperately at her teeth while Liam's family's chaotic golden retriever **dog**, Buster, bounded toward them, leash dragging behind him. He'd escaped again.

"Buster! NO," Liam yelled as the dog made a beeline for—yep. Maya's freshly bought funnel cake.

But instead of devouring it, Buster stopped dead, tail wagging furiously, and placed both muddy paws on Maya's shoulders, effectively pinning her against the carnival fence. He licked a giant stripe across her face, somehow dislodging the spinach.

"I think he likes you," Liam said, and his voice sounded different. Softer. "I think I do too."

Maya's palm didn't feel sweaty anymore. It felt like the beginning of everything.

"Yeah?" she managed, grinning like an idiot. "Prophecy or no prophecy?"

"No prophecy needed," Liam said, and took her hand.