Palm Kisses and Swing of Fate
[Show me your left hand.]
Hunter, a lefty, swung with his left hand and buried the serve. He strode over, eyeing her with suspicion, and slumped into the opposite chair. After a long hesitation, he extended his hand. His fist was clenched tight.
[Make your palm face up and spread your fingers.]
A short sigh escaped Hunter. He rotated his fist and slowly uncurled his fingers. His palm was callused from years of gripping the racket—Hunter’s devotion to tennis was something Jiyu had always known.
She traced the letter J on the back of his hand with her index finger.
[What the hell are you doing?! It’s ticklish!]
Jiyu grabbed his wrist as he tried to yank his hand away.
[Listen, Hunter Hamilton.]
Hunter’s face twisted in a scowl as he glared at her and panted roughly. His shoulders rose and fell in uneven bursts.
[Since you’re left-handed, you’ll write my name on your left palm. It’s an extremely effective method from a New York Times bestseller. So spread your hand even if it tickles.]
Hunter stared at her with eyes full of doubt and disbelief, then slowly opened his fingers. Jiyu quickly finished spelling the rest of the name on his palm.
[I, and one more I, then U. It’s all written now.]
After a moment of hesitation, she closed her eyes, bowed her head over his palm, and pressed her lips to it for a fraction of a second—0.1 seconds. Her lips brushed the skin and fell away.
[Hah!]
A sharp intake of breath escaped Hunter.
[Wh-what just…]
Jiyu lifted her head and finished her explanation with a confident smile.
[When you grip a racket with this hand, it will work the same as me watching your tournament.]
She gently closed his fingers around the palm.
[Squeeze hard. Don’t let go.]
‘Please, let it work. Please believe me.’
Jiyu glanced up, eyes searching for his reaction.
‘If he gets angry at being called stupid, what then?’
Hunter stared at her, lips slightly parted, eyes blinking rapidly. She had never seen such a foolish expression on him before. He clenched his fist as if to stifle a laugh, but she only watched warily.
‘He’s mad, isn’t he?’
Jiyu shrank back, wondering if she should slide down the slide and run. She heard the unmistakable sound of him swallowing hard.
[If this doesn’t work, Jiyu Parker… I won’t leave you alone!]
His voice split into two menacing tones.
Hunter shot to his feet, the small chair tumbling backward with a loud crash.
He didn’t even bother righting the chair. Instead, he stomped toward the entrance of the slide with heavy, echoing footsteps, then grabbed the iron bar above it with one hand as if the descent didn’t even matter. In the next breath he leaped off beside the slide.
[Hot-tempered jerk.]
Jiyu whispered softly, the words barely audible.
The sound of Hunter’s footsteps faded down the concrete steps, then a heavy metal door slammed shut with a resounding clang.
Jiyu shrugged, stood, and stepped onto the slide. She had managed to pry herself away from the tiresome Hunter Hamilton who always complained about going to the birthday party—mission accomplished for now.
It was Sunday afternoon. The door to Love’s office flew open. Jiyu, curled up in a beanbag chair reading a book, startled and looked up.
Love waved at her with both hands.
[Jiyu, go upstairs to the penthouse right now. You’re supposed to have a playdate with Hunter.]
[Now? Suddenly? …]
[Oh, hurry up. Your dad’s busy at work and your mom has a manicure appointment, so you can go alone. Just… cancel the manicure? …]
Love glanced at her nails and shook her head.
[Ugh, they’re a total mess. You’d better go. Jiyu, stop dawdling and get up already.]
Since Love had the book she was looking for, Jiyu nodded slowly. It was time to check what new books had arrived at Hunter’s private library. A new title appeared every two months.
[If only Hunter weren’t living there, it would be nice.]
As she left the house, Jiyu muttered under her breath. With Lauren’s permission she sometimes visited the playroom to return books or borrow new ones when Hunter was away. Lauren had once warned her that reading there might have a “bad influence” on Hunter.
Every time she heard those words, an odd feeling stirred inside Jiyu. Hunter Hamilton was a boy who was unaffected by anyone—especially not someone like Jiyu Parker.
When Jiyu entered the lobby, she raised her index finger to the concierge desk. The signal for the penthouse elevator.
The concierge no longer bothered to stop Jiyu and Love from using the elevator. He simply nodded and pressed the call button on the intercom.
The moment the elevator doors opened on the family floor, the inner safety gate slid aside with a whoosh.
Jiyu stumbled back in surprise before Hunter thrust something toward her with a triumphant grin.
A gleaming silver trophy.
Dinkins Cup Junior Tennis Champion.
Jiyu read the inscription on the base and murmured blankly.
[Wow. He actually won.]
The look in Hunter’s eyes changed. From now on he no longer treated her like furniture to be batted around in the playroom.
Before, if they were in the same space he would glance at her once with distant eyes and lose interest. These days his deep blue stare lingered—curious, suspicious, and far too attentive. When they crossed paths in the shared sports center, Jiyu had once lowered her gaze and pretended not to see him. He had done the same, yet when she ignored him he had slammed his fist into the wall in frustration.
Jiyu wished he would go back to the old way. The casual glance he used to give her before the library beanbag chair had felt far more comfortable.
But the real problem was that every time a tournament approached, he summoned her to the tree house and demanded she write his name on his left palm.
[Don’t cling to the winning jinx. Just train your skills, Hunter Hamilton.]
The moment the words left her mouth, goosebumps rose on her arms. Talking to Hunter Hamilton like that and walking away unharmed? She knew exactly what kind of man he was—he didn’t quietly accept things he didn’t like.
Sure enough, flames of fury erupted in his eyes. Jiyu’s pupils trembled wildly. She already regretted the words, yet it was too late. She shrank back, bracing for the hundredfold backlash she knew would come.
Hunter ground his teeth, suppressing the anger he couldn’t unleash. His jaw clenched tight. But he said nothing to her. No, he couldn’t.
Because the winning jinx was something he desperately needed. And although he hated to admit it, the words were correct.
At that moment the seesaw that had always leaned toward Hunter since the day they first met began to tilt gently toward Jiyu. Instinctively sensing the shift, she held her breath.
The immature superiority was as sweet as cotton candy. She savored the rush of feeling.
Unaware how easily that tilt could be overturned again.
***
Twelve years old. The hormones had finally taken over her brain.
In the first semester of sixth grade, Astor School and Alton School put on a joint musical: Peter Pan. Every sixth grader had to participate; it was a continuation of the English literature class on plays and drama.
Hunter refused to dance or sing and volunteered for the pirate role instead—just swinging a sword and shouting was all he needed. Jiyu was assigned the ensemble part as a Neverland kid with no lines and let out a relieved sigh.
After the musical, Hunter and his captain, Rex, shared the spotlight and split the attention of the sixth-grade girls at Astor School. During lunch, heated debates erupted at the cafeteria table about who was cuter.
The arguments were absurdly one-sided.
It was common knowledge that Sienna Reed was Hunter’s crush. If you listened to her sighing and mooning over every glance he gave her, you would have thought it was a public secret.