The Palm Reader's Secret

Maya's iPhone buzzed in her pocket like a nervous heartbeat. House party. Friday night. Her first one.

"You're the palm reader, right?" Some sophomore with braces stood there, hand outstretched. Earlier, Maya's best friend Chloe had dramatically announced Maya's "gift" because Maya had correctly guessed that Chloe's crush was texting someone else. (She'd seen the iPhone notification. Same difference.)

"Uh, sure?" Maya took his hand, her own palm sweating. His hand smelled like Pacific Sun and desperation.

She thought fast. "Your life line is... surprisingly long. Like, you're gonna live forever. Which is unfortunate because math homework exists." People laughed. Good.

By midnight, Maya had "predicted" three breakups, one college acceptance letter, and that Jeremy would definitely (maybe) get into UCLA. She was basically a spy at this point—a silent observer gathering intel through casual touch and nervous laughter.

Then Lucas sat down. Lucas with the jawline and the varsity jacket and the smile that made people forget their own names.

"Don't," Chloe whispered from behind her shoulder. "He's out of your league."

"Shut up," Maya hissed back. To Lucas: "You want yours read?"

"If you're not tired." His voice was low. Nice.

Maya took his hand. His palm was warm, calloused from lacrosse. She traced his life line with her index finger, her heart doing that thing where it forgot how to rhythm.

"You're gonna mess up," she said softly. "Like, a lot. But it's gonna be worth it."

Lucas smiled. A real one, not the practiced one he used for teachers and college reps. "That's specific."

"I'm detailed." Maya's phone buzzed again—probably her mom wondering where she was. She ignored it.

"Your phone," Lucas said. "Aren't you gonna check?"

"Nah." She didn't let go of his hand. "I'm busy working here."

"Working?" Lucas raised an eyebrow. "You call this work?"

"Emotional labor," Maya said. "I'm basically a therapist for fourteen-year-olds."

He laughed, and Maya felt it in her chest, warm and surprising. "You're funny."

"I'm observant." She traced his heart line. "You care too much. That's gonna bite you. But you'll be okay."

Lucas looked at her, really looked at her. "What else?"

Maya's phone kept buzzing. She kept ignoring it. "You're gonna meet someone. She's gonna annoy the hell out of you at first. But you'll love it."

"Predicting my future?" Lucas was still holding her hand.

"Just stating facts." Maya smiled, feeling brave and terrified and seventeen all at once.

"Good." Lucas squeezed her hand. "Because I think I just met her."

Maya's phone buzzed one more time. They both ignored it.