“You can add as much pressure as you want.” ’Cause everything’s cool. Nothing to see here. Nothing to worry about.

“You sure?”

“Yup.” I could feel my hackles rising again and tried to breathe through the tension.

She hesitated but then reached out and took my still-closed hand, gently pressing open my fingers. This time, she held my hand in both of hers and began running her thumbs along each crease with a firmness that sent pricks of pain through my bruise.

Better than stupid fucking tingles.

“A line like this one”—she traced the crease traversing the middle of my palm—“tells me that you wish you were somewhere else.”

She looked up at me like she expected me to say something, so I mumbled, “Uh, I guess—I mean, don’t you?” Doesn’t everyone?

Shanti nodded slowly. “Fair enough.” She returned to my hand and stretched the skin outward with both her thumbs. “Your life line is a bit unusual. It’s broken right here.” She leaned over and peered into my hand for a few moments. Looking up, she asked, “Any ideas?”

Resisting the urge to pull my hand away again, I shrugged and left it at that.

She stared at me for a beat, then nodded again and looked back down. She ran her finger along the line just below my middle and ring fingers. Her touch was lighter again this time, and the damn tingle was back. My neck and shoulders instantly tensed up with my efforts to remain still.

“This is your heart line. It’s well-defined. That’s a good sign, Daya. Strong heart.”

Right. My jaw clenched involuntarily. My heart didn’t feel strong right now. It felt like it could crumble at any moment. I remembered Kat’s words and started to think this was what she meant by being soft. By being someone I’m not. I shouldn’t be here.

She looked up again and smiled, but when she saw my face, her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She shuffled closer to me so our knees were almost touching. Even though the rest of my body wanted to retreat, my hand inexplicably remained in hers.

“We can stop. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.” I kept my face as neutral as possible. We were basically just holding hands now.

Another beat. Then: “Come on,” she said, and rose from the futon. “Grab your beer.”

“Where’re we going?” Relief washed over me, but a small deposit of unwanted disappointment unfurled in my chest too.

“We’re gonna find some fun.” She pulled my hand into hers again, and against my better judgment, I let her.

We made our way down the dark hallway past a few engrossed bodies, through a laundry room, and up some stairs into the backyard. The air was chilly, but I realized I’d been sweating in Shanti’s room and welcomed the coolness.

“Check this out.”