The Sphinx's Palm Read

Maya's palms wouldn't stop sweating. Which was exactly why she couldn't focus on the baseball game. Her first varsity start, and she was currently gripping the bat like it might bite her.

"You good, rookie?" Chloe asked from first base, flipping her perfect hair over her shoulder. It always looked effortless, while Maya's curls had decided to rebel today.

"Yeah. Just nervous." Maya wiped her hands on her uniform pants again.

"Go see Raven after the game," Chloe said, sliding into position. "She's, like, scary accurate with that palm reading stuff. Calls herself The Sphinx because she only speaks in riddles, but she called my entire last season before it happened."

The Sphinx. Even the nickname felt mysterious. Raven kept to herself, always reading in that corner booth at the diner, her dark hair falling like a curtain around her face.

Two hours later, Maya struck out looking. Three pitches, three swings, zero contact. Her teammates tried to be supportive, but she felt like she'd failed them all. She grabbed her gear and headed toward the diner anyway.

Raven looked up as Maya slid into the booth across from her. "You're searching."

"For what?"

"That's the riddle." Raven reached across the table. "Your palm."

Maya hesitated, then placed her hand in Raven's. Her skin felt cool against Maya's still-damp palm.

"You're afraid of being seen," Raven said quietly, tracing the lines. "But you're standing on the edge of something big. Next Thursday." She looked up. "Bring your glove."

"That's it? That's the whole prophecy?" Maya laughed nervously. "Pretty vague for a sphinx."

"Sphinxes don't give answers." Raven closed Maya's fingers into a fist. "They give directions."

Thursday came with rain and a makeup game against their biggest rival. Maya found herself in the bottom of the seventh, two outs, bases loaded, full count. The same situation that haunted her dreams.

Her palms were dry this time.

She didn't think about The Sphinx or prophecies. She thought about how Chloe had looked at her in the dugout—like she believed Maya could do this. How her parents were watching from the stands. How she'd spent sixteen years waiting for this moment.

The pitch came. Maya swung.

The crack of the bat echoed through the stadium. The ball sailed over the center fielder's head. Game-winning triple. Her teammates stormed the field, someone's arms wrapping around her waist, spinning her around.

Afterward, Raven leaned against the fence, a small smile playing on her lips.

"You found it," she said. "Whatever you were searching for."

"I think I was looking for permission to trust myself." Maya adjusted her messy curls, now wild with sweat and victory. "Weird way to give it to me."

"Sphinxes gotta sphinx." Raven pushed off the fence. "See you next season, rookie."

Maya walked home with dirt on her uniform, victory in her veins, and finally—finally—dry palms.