Page 56 of Something Like Fate

“We didn’t hook up,” he says, almost offended. “After we toured Palazzo degli Uffizi, we walked around and got some gelato and talked.” They didn’t hook up. I’m not sure why that’s so relieving. “How about your night?”

I casually lift a shoulder. “It was chill. We got cannoli. Feel free to have some. They’re on the bedside table. Oh, and I talked to my aunts for a while.”

“Oh yeah? How are they?”

“Same old. They think I should wait to tell Caleb about the soulmate thing.”

He studies me for a beat before climbing the ladder to sit next to me. “Do you want to wait?”

“No. You know me and my big mouth. I feel like I need to tell him before we go home. Preferably earlier, so we can figure out what we’re doing ... you know, relationship wise. It’s killing me to keep it in. And it feels dishonest, like I’m lying to him, even though I’m not,” I ramble, adding, “I’m scared it’ll freak him out.”

“Telling him you’re a psychic? Nah,” he teases, dangling his long legs over the edge.

“A terrible psychic at that,” I add reflexively, despite Mei’s excitement over my second vision. There is a bright side, she said. Based on the vivid detail, she hypothesized that I might have stronger powers than I thought.

“Just because you only had one vision doesn’t mean you’re terrible,” he says. Heat flushes my neck. I’m tempted to tell him what I foresaw on our double date, but I stop myself. What good would it do? If anything, it would speed up the inevitable. “Maybe you really do have your family’s abilities and you just don’t know it.”

“Maybe.”

“Do a palm reading on me,” Teller says. “Just for fun,” he adds when he sees the mortified look on my face.

“Okay, but I’m going to be crap at it,” I warn.

“Well, I’m going to be judging. Harshly. Comparing you to the hundreds of other palm readings I’ve gotten,” he says sarcastically.

I examine his palm, running my finger over it, trying to summon all the bits of knowledge I’ve gathered over the years from my aunts.

“All right, so your life line is unnaturally shallow,” I say, watching Teller’s brows pinch as he scrutinizes his hand. For the record, I’m just messing with him.

“What does that mean?”

“It tends to indicate you may get sick more easily, probably because you use an excess of disinfectant—”

He gives me a soft slap on the wrist. “Okay, seriously, though. Am I going to die young? Will it be painful?”

I shake my head. “No. You actually have a really long and deep life line. It doesn’t necessarily represent a long life, but it means you’re healthy.”

“I’ll take that.”

I move my finger upward to the wisdom line, which extends from the edge of his thumb and index finger. “Your wisdom and life lines kind of overlap, which means you’re introverted and detail-oriented. I remember my aunts used to say that too much overlap means you’re a worrywart.”

He smirks. “All true. Go on.”

I run my finger over the line right under his pinkie, extending across the palm and ending right below the middle finger. “Your love line kind of curves down, which tells me you’re stubborn but willing to sacrifice for love.”

He nods. “True again.”

“There are some circular creases around your health line, which also indicate nose and throat problems.”

“I do have horrible allergies, so that checks.”

“Sure does.”

“See? You’re more talented than you think.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s the same as when I was a kid. I can memorize all the rules, but I don’t have that ... natural intuition my aunts use in tandem. They use the palm reading as added proof of what they already know.”

“Still, you were pretty accurate with me. If I could leave you a five-star Google review, I would.”

---