The Party Prophecy

Maya's palms were sweating—literally. She wiped them on her jeans for the third time since stepping into Jessica's basement. The air smelled like cheap body spray and desperation. So far, she'd said approximately three words to anyone, and two of them were "thanks" when someone handed her a red solo cup.

"You nervous?"

Maya jumped. Tyler stood there, looking annoyingly chill in his flannel. He was the kind of guy who got called "different voice" in group chats, whatever that meant.

"No," Maya lied. "Just... observing."

"Cool." He nodded at the corner where some girls were crowded around. "They're doing palm readings. Supposedly Chloe's cousin took a class on YouTube or something."

Maya rolled her eyes but found herself drifting over anyway. Because what else was she supposed to do? Stand there pretending to care about Jordan's story about almost getting suspended?

"Oooooh," Chloe's cousin was saying, holding someone's hand like it was a rare artifact. "You're going to have a very interesting summer."

"What does that mean?"

"The lines don't lie."

Maya almost turned around until she noticed it—on the bookshelf behind them, a mini sphinx statue from someone's Egypt trip. Its painted eyes seemed to mock her. You're here, it seemed to say. Might as well commit.

"Next!" Chloe's cousin called.

Before Maya could chicken out, someone pushed her forward. The room suddenly felt smaller.

"Okay, let's see..." The cousin traced a line across Maya's palm. "You're guarded. Like, emotionally."

Maya wanted to laugh. OF COURSE she was guarded. She'd just moved here two months ago and didn't know how to do the whole "making friends at a new school" thing without feeling like a walking cliché.

"But," the cousin continued, "you're also about to take a risk. Something big."

Just then, someone's dog—a golden retriever named Max—came barreling down the stairs, chased by three screaming girls. He skidded across the laminate floor and crashed into the bookshelf. The sphinx statue wobbled, then fell.

Everyone shrieked. Chaos erupted. And in that moment of pure ridiculousness, Maya started laughing. Really laughing. Tyler caught her eye from across the room and grinned.

The cousin never finished her reading. But later, as Maya stood on the front porch, breathing in the cool night air, she realized something: sometimes you didn't need your palm read to know things were changing. Sometimes you just had to stop standing on the sidelines.

She pulled out her phone and texted her mom: Staying out late. Don't wait up.

Then she turned around and walked back inside. Running toward whatever happened next.