Cable TV Summer Surveillance

My summer job as the cable guy's assistant wasn't exactly how I pictured spending the last months before senior year. But hey, $12 an hour was $12 an hour, and someone had to crawl under houses reconnecting internet for people who'd somehow managed to disconnect their own modems.

"You see a lot of interesting things in this job," Marcus said, tossing me another cable connector. He'd been doing this for fifteen years and had the kind of wisdom that only comes from spending your workdays in other people's crawlspaces.

I was about to reply when I heard movement from the house above us. The Hawthornes' place — where Emma Hawthorne lived. Emma, who sat two rows behind me in AP English and had never once acknowledged my existence.

"Hold up," I whispered.

Marcus grinned. "Oh, we're gonna spy now? That's how you get fired, kid."

"I'm not spying," I protested, even though I totally was. Through the floor vents, I could hear Emma's voice. She was crying. Something about how everyone expected her to be perfect and how she couldn't keep swimming upstream forever.

I froze. Emma Hawthorne, who looked like she had her life completely figured out, was just as lost as the rest of us.

"You good?" Marcus asked, noticing I'd stopped working.

"Yeah," I said, suddenly feeling weird about the whole situation. "Just thinking."

That weekend, I ran into Emma at the community pool. I was there for swimming lessons — my parents had decided it was tragic that their seventeen-year-old son couldn't properly swim laps. She was there alone, sitting at the edge of the pool with her feet in the water.

"You're the cable guy's kid," she said, sounding tired. "Thanks for, like, not saying anything. About what you might have heard."

"Marcus says I'm not supposed to spy on customers," I admitted, sitting down a few feet away. "But also, it sounded like you needed someone to hear it, not keep it secret."

She cracked a tiny smile. "My parents think I'm this golden child. Straight-As, team captain, college applications already perfect. But it's like —" she gestured vaguely at the pool " — I'm barely keeping my head above water sometimes."

"The pressure's insane," I agreed. "My parents act like every decision I make now determines my entire future. Like if I choose wrong, my whole life is messed up."

Emma nodded. "Exactly. And everyone's like, 'bear down, just work harder.' But sometimes you just want to... I don't know, not have it all figured out."

"I'm taking swimming lessons because I'm afraid I'll drown if I fall off a boat," I said. "I don't have anything figured out either."

We sat there for a while, watching the light reflect off the pool surface. Neither of us had to perform, or pretend, or be the person everyone thought we were supposed to be.

"Hey," Emma said finally. "You want to get food? I'm supposed to be at SAT prep but I'm gonna bear that consequence later."

"I'm supposed to help Marcus with a job," I said. "But honestly, I've connected enough cable for one week."

We walked to the diner together, and for the first time all summer, I felt like someone actually saw me. Not as the cable guy's assistant, or the kid who needed swimming lessons, or just another face in the high school crowd. Just me. And apparently, that was enough.