Crossed Wires

The cable behind my desk had been fraying for weeks, little copper hairs sticking out like my own nerves after finals week. I lived my life like a spy—watching from the edges, cataloging every social interaction like classified intel, never quite part of the mission.

"You're coming tonight, right?" Kae asked, leaning against my doorframe with that effortless confidence I'd been trying to reverse-engineer since September.

"To the party?" I stalled. "I was gonna... you know..."

"Running? Again?" She raised an eyebrow. "You've been on that track every day this week. What are you training for, the zombie apocalypse?"

I laughed, but it came out thin. Running was the only time my brain shut up. No overanalyzing every glance from across the cafeteria. No replaying conversations that definitely meant nothing. Just pavement and breath and the rhythm that made sense.

"My cousin's bringing her band," Kae added casually. "I hear their drummer's kinda cute."

I felt myself perk up despite everything. "A drummer?"

"Total bull, though," she grinned. "I said that last week to get Maya to come, and the guy turned out to be her ex's best friend. Drama city."

The cable gave a final spark and died. My screen went black, taking with it three hours of unfinished history notes.

"You okay?" Kae stepped closer.

I looked at her—really looked. Maybe I didn't have to be the spy anymore. Maybe sometimes you just had to stop gathering intel and start living.

"My internet's dead," I said. "Got any good parties worth crashing?"

Her smile said everything: mission accomplished, agent deactivated, real life beginning.