The Palm That Predicted Everything

My palms wouldn't stop sweating. Literally dripping down my sides as I stood outside Jordan's house party, listening to the bass thud through the door.

"You good?" Maya asked, already checking her reflection in her phone camera.

"Never been more nervous in my life," I admitted, wiping my hands on my jeans. "It's just... Jordan's party. The Jordan. Everyone who's anyone will be there."

"Chloe, you literally have AP Bio with him every day. He's just a guy." She linked arms with me and dragged me toward the door. "Besides, I saw him watching you in the cafeteria yesterday. He's definitely interested."

Inside, the air was thick with expensive cologne and teenage desperation. Someone had set up a mechanical bull in the backyard—of course they had, because nothing says 'my parents are rich' like bucking livestock at a house party.

We grabbed cheap punch from a plastic bowl and navigated through pressed bodies and too-loud laughter. That's when I saw her: Riley, leaning against the patio door, looking like she knew exactly how the night would end. A total fox, or so everyone said—sly, gorgeous, always three steps ahead of every social game at Northwood High.

"Palm reading?" Riley caught my eye and patted the empty cushion beside her. "Five bucks, guaranteed accuracy or your money back."

I should've said no. I was trying to work up the courage to talk to Jordan, not get my fortune told by the school's resident mystic. But Maya was already pushing me forward.

"Do it," she whispered. "Maybe she'll predict you'll finally talk to Jordan tonight."

Riley took my hand, her fingers cool against my sweaty palm. She traced the lines with practiced precision, then suddenly stopped.

"You're lying to yourself," she said quietly.

"What?"

"About what you want. You're so focused on Jordan, you're missing what's actually happening." Riley looked up, her dark eyes serious. "You think this is about getting the guy. It's not. It's about proving you belong here. But you already do."

I pulled my hand back, heart racing. She was right. I'd spent so much energy trying to impress people who didn't matter, trying to be someone I wasn't. All this time, I'd been chasing validation when I should've been chasing my own happiness.

The mechanical bull roared outside, some poor sophomore clinging for dear life. Jordan walked by, nodding at me like he actually saw me. And for the first time all night, my palms were dry.

"You're right," I told Riley. "So what now?"

She grinned. "Now we dance. Then maybe help that kid on the bull before he breaks something."