The Sphinx's Palm Reader

Maya's summer was shaping up to be a total dumpster fire. Her parents had shipped her off to help at Uncle Jerry's roadside attraction—basically a glorified gift shop selling overpriced sodas to tourists who got lost on their way to somewhere actually interesting. The only thing keeping her sane was the WiFi in the back room and the fact that her crush, Leo, had finally noticed her existence at school before she got exiled to the middle of nowhere.

Then the new guy walked in.

Fox. That was actually his name, or at least that's what he said when Maya's uncle hired him on the spot. He had messy brown hair that kept falling in his eyes and wore the same vintage band t-shirt three days in a row. He was weirdly comfortable leaning against the fiberglass sphinx out front like it was totally normal.

"You know," Fox said, flipping through the discount bin of keychains, "this sphinx has been giving me the stink-eye all morning."

Maya rolled her eyes so hard it practically hurt. "It's a statue, Fox. It doesn't have eyes to stink."

"Rude." He grinned, and Maya felt something annoying happen in her chest. "Wanna know your future?" He held up his hand. "I read palms. I'm basically psychic."

"You're full of bull."

"Try me."

Against her better judgment, Maya extended her hand. Fox traced the lines on her palm with fingers that were surprisingly gentle. The air conditioner hummed in the background. A dog barked somewhere outside—probably the neighbor's German shepherd that hated everyone.

"You're going to have a really important conversation soon," Fox said softly. "Like, life-changing important. And you're gonna be scared, but you should do it anyway."

Maya pulled her hand back, heart hammering. "That's so generic. You could say that to anyone."

"Maybe." Fox shrugged, heading back to the sphinx. "But I'm right about you."

That night, Maya stared at her phone. Leo had posted something on his story. Her thumb hovered over the message button. She'd been wanting to DM him all summer, but every time she tried, she chickened out.

Fox's words echoed in her head. *Life-changing important. Scared, but do it anyway.*

The dog barked again outside her window. Maya took a breath, opened the message app, and typed: hey, what's up?

Her phone buzzed almost immediately. not much, missing someone from school tho

Maya smiled. Maybe working at a tourist trap wasn't so bad after all. And maybe Fox's palm-reading thing wasn't complete bull.