The Pyramid Prophecy

Maya's phone buzzed on her nightstand, another notification from the group chat. Someone was selling iPhone cases again—those overpriced holographic ones everyone at Northwood High seemed to have. Maya's own iPhone 11 screen was cracked, a spiderweb of shame she hid with her thumb whenever she checked notifications.

That's when the idea hit her like a text message at 2 AM.

"What if I told you I could predict your future?" Maya whispered to Lily at lunch, sliding into the cafeteria bench beside her best friend.

Lily rolled her eyes. "You're not psychic, May. You're just desperate for new AirPods."

"Palm reading," Maya insisted, grabbing Lily's hand. "It's trending on TikTok. I charge $5, you get your fortune told, AND I buy the cases wholesale. We make profit, you look cool, I get AirPods."

"So... a pyramid scheme?"

"It's not a pyramid scheme if we're ACTUALLY telling fortunes," Maya said, though they both knew it was sketchy as hell.

By Friday, Maya was the unofficial campus psychic. She'd memorized enough palm lines and zodiac facts to sound convincing. The basketball team's captain came by between periods. Maya traced the lines on his palm, serious as a heart attack.

"You're gonna make varsity," she predicted, carefully adding, "but someone close to you... isn't who they seem."

His face fell. "You see drama?"

Maya nodded gravely. "$10 for the full reading."

She made $47 that week. But something felt wrong. These weren't just customers—they were her classmates, trusting her with their hopes, their fears, their insecurities. The palm of her hand still tingled from where she'd held theirs.

"We can't keep doing this," Maya told Lily, watching the pyramid of cash on her desk. "That freshman with the broken braces really believed I could help her get back together with her ex. I took her lunch money."

"So refund everyone."

"All of it?"

"Every cent. That's what good people do."

Maya exhaled. "Okay. But first..." She pulled out her iPhone, cracked screen and all. "Wanna help me write the apology group text?"

Lily grinned. "You're finally learning, May. Some prophecies are worth faking. Most aren't."

Maya pressed send on the refund, then checked her palm. The lines hadn't changed—but somehow, she felt different. Like the future was something she'd write herself, one honest choice at a time.