Three Lines, Zero Secrets

Marcus's palms were sweating—again. He wiped them on his jeans, leaving dark streaks on the denim. Three more DMs from Kai, each one making his heart do that weird flutter thing.

"You're totally spiraling," said Jordan, appearing behind him in the library. Jordan, whose own palm was currently being read by Bella in the corner, surrounded by a gaggle of sophomore girls. "Bro, you've been her personal digital **spy** since September. Just talk to her."

"It's not spying," Marcus muttered. "It's research."

Jordan snorted. "You've memorized her Spotify wrapped. You know she orders oat milk lattes at exactly 3:45 PM on Tuesdays. That's not research, that's stalking with better branding."

Marcus's phone buzzed. Kai had posted a story—a golden retriever puppy at the shelter where she volunteered. The caption read: "This little guy needs a home. Who's adopting?" Marcus had been fostering his sister's **dog** Buster for two weeks, a chaotic terrier mix who'd already eaten three homework assignments and one very expensive sneaker.

"This is it," Jordan said, reading over his shoulder. "Kai literally posts about dogs every day. You have a dog. It's not rocket science."

"But Buster's a disaster," Marcus protested. "He's not cute Instagram content. He's a furry demolition crew."

"Perfect. It's authentic. Girls love authenticity. It's basically catnip."

That afternoon, Marcus sat on his front porch, phone camera pointed at Buster, who was currently rolling in something questionable in the yard. His palm hovered over the record button. What if she thought he was weird? What if she'd been posting those dog pics for some other guy—someone normal, someone whose dog didn't smell like questionable backyard substances?

His phone lit up. Kai's story again: "Seriously though, who's coming to meet him? He's so lonely it's making ME sad."

Marcus hit record. Buster chose that moment to shake off vigorously, sending droplets everywhere.

"You're such a dork," he told the dog, but his hands weren't sweating anymore.

Twenty minutes later, Kai stood in his doorway, laughing as Buster jumped on her leg with zero coordination. "He's perfect," she said, scratching behind his ears. "Total chaos energy. Just like someone else I know."

Marcus's palms were dry. "Is that good or bad?"

Kai grinned. "We'll see. You still haven't told me why you were in the library every day watching my stories."

"Research," he said, and she laughed.

"Right. Just don't become a professional **spy** or anything. You're terrible at being subtle."

"Noted."

"Also?" She pulled out her phone. "Your hair line. It means you're going to be very stubborn."

"You read palms now?"

"Bella taught me. And you should talk to her about that spying problem. She says your life line is weirdly short."