The Palm Reader's Protocol

Marcus was officially the worst lifeguard in Pine Valley Community Pool history. He'd spent three hours **swimming** through thoughts about how to talk to the cute sophomore with the neon green towel, and exactly zero hours actually, you know, lifeguarding.

"Bro, you're spiraling," said Jen, sliding onto the lifeguard stand beside him. "Just talk to her. Or, option B, we go full stealth mode."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Stealth mode?"

"**Spy** protocol," she whispered dramatically, pulling out a pair of dollar store sunglasses from nowhere. "We observe. We gather intel. We strike when the moment's right."

This was so stupid. But Marcus was desperate, and desperate times called for desperate measures. Also, he was sixteen and had zero game.

By the snack shack, she was there—Chloe. The Chloe. The one who'd borrowed his biology book last week and still hadn't returned it, not that he was counting. She was laughing with her friends, and Marcus felt that familiar chest-tightening thing that happened whenever she was within a fifty-foot radius.

"Intel gathered," Jen said, sliding down the sunglasses. "She's working the summer festival booth. The palm reader one."

"Wait, what?"

"Chloe's the fortune teller, genius. And you're gonna get your palm read."

"No. Absolutely not. Have you met me? I can barely talk to her normally, and now I'm supposed to let her analyze my entire future by looking at my hand?"

"That's the beauty of it," Jen grinned. "She has to talk to you. It's literally her job."

Marcus argued for approximately thirty more seconds before giving in, because he was weak and she had a point.

The festival was chaos—cotton candy everywhere, middle schoolers running wild, and the smell of deep-fried everything. Chloe sat behind a small table with a crystal ball (probably plastic, Marcus reasoned) and a sign that read MYSTIC CHLOE in glitter letters.

"Next victim," she called, then froze. "Oh. Hey, Marcus."

"Hey," he managed, sitting down and extending his hand before he could overthink it. "So, you do this whole... palm thing?"

She took his **palm**, her fingers unexpectedly warm against his. "Well, let's see. You're going to be very successful... you have really long lifeline, wow. But you're also overthinking something right now. Someone you want to talk to, maybe?"

Marcus stared at her. Was this real? Was she flirting with him while pretending to read his fortune?

"Okay, that's scary accurate," he admitted. "What else do you see?"

Chloe leaned in, lowering her voice. "I see someone who should ask the palm reader if she wants to get food at the snack shack after her shift."

Marcus's brain short-circuited. "Wait, really?"

"Really," she smiled, still holding his hand. "I've been waiting for you to ask all week. I borrowed your bio book on purpose, you know."

From somewhere behind them, Jen did the world's most obvious thumbs-up.

"So," Chloe said, finally letting go of his hand. "What's it gonna be, Marcus? You gonna make a move, or do I need to read your palm again?"

Marcus laughed, feeling lighter than he had all summer. "I think I'll take my chances with the first option."

Jen was never going to let him hear the end of this. But honestly? Worth it.