The Universe in My Sweaty Palm

Jordan's palms were sweating so much that his phone kept sliding out of his grip. Great. Just great. The biggest party of sophomore year and he was stuck in the corner holding someone's ethernet cable like it was a lifeline.

"You gotta meet this dog," Maya had said, dragging him through the crowded basement. "He's literally the only chill thing here."

Now Jordan was蹲 next to a Golden Retriever named Buster who was currently chewing on a sneaker. The dog looked up with soulful eyes, and Jordan felt seen for the first time all night.

"Dude, you good?" Maya appeared, sliding down the wall to sit beside him. "You've been hiding with the dog for twenty minutes."

Jordan wiped his palm on his jeans. "Just needed a break from everyone performing, you know? Like, we're all trying so hard."

Maya's expression softened. "Yeah. Tyler literally tried to palm-read me earlier. Said he could see my future."

"What did he see?"

"That I'd ditch this party and get tacos with the awkward kid hiding with the dog."

Jordan's stomach did that uncomfortable flip thing. "Wait, really?"

"No, he saw 'true love' or some basic nonsense." Maya grinned. "But the taco thing sounds way better."

Buster chose that moment to abandon the sneaker and rest his head on Jordan's knee. The cable was still tangled around Jordan's wrist, a ridiculous tether to the wall, but suddenly the basement didn't feel so claustrophobic.

"So," Maya said, standing up and offering him a hand. "Tacos? Or are you gonna stay here and let this dog be your wingman all night?"

Jordan looked at Buster, who thumped his tail encouragingly.

"Tacos," Jordan said, finally letting the cable drop. "Definitely tacos."