The Party Where Nothing Went According to Plan

Jordan's palms were sweating so much that when Maya grabbed his hand to drag him into the basement, he literally had to wipe them on his jeans first. Not exactly his smoothest moment.

"Relax, she just wants to read your palm," Maya whispered, shoving him onto a folding chair.

Chloe sat cross-legged on a sleeping bag, surrounded by half-eaten pizza and three other girls Jordan had been crushing on since seventh grade. She grabbed his hand, traced a line across his sweaty **palm**, and went, "Ooh, you're gonna have, like, a major life revelation tonight."

Jordan snorted. "Right. Because my life is so interesting."

"No, seriously." Chloe leaned in, her vanilla shampoo hitting him like a truck. "The spirits never lie."

If by "spirits" she meant the weird game of Truth or Dare that somehow led to Jordan standing in Chloe's backyard at midnight, staring at a **goldfish** pond while she dared him to "embrace his wild side" and catch one with his bare hands.

"This is literally the dumbest thing I've ever done," Jordan muttered, kneeling on the grass.

"That's the point!" Chloe laughed, and god, her laugh was unfair. "Live a little."

So Jordan reached in, water soaking his jeans, fingers brushing through slimy weeds until—GOT IT.

He straightened up, water dripping everywhere, holding a tiny orange fish like it was some sacred trophy. Both of them dissolved into giggles, Chloe slipping on the wet grass and grabbing his arm to steady herself.

And that's when he saw it—tattooed on her shoulder, barely visible in the moonlight: a tiny **bear** holding a heart.

"Is that...?" Jordan pointed.

Chloe glanced down, suddenly shy. "Yeah. My little brother's nickname. He, um, passed away last year."

The air between them shifted. Jordan gently placed the goldfish back in the pond. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time all night. "You're different than I thought, Jordan."

"Different bad or different good?"

She smiled, and something inside him unclenched. "Different good."

His palms weren't sweaty anymore.