Goldfish in the Wiring

The social pyramid at Northwood High had Maya somewhere near the basement—right alongside the AV club kids and anyone who still carried a backpack with both straps on.

"You're gonna burn the whole school down," said Jay, leaning against the doorframe of the tech booth, holding a tangled mess of ethernet cable like it was a pet snake.

Maya didn't look up from the soundboard. "Only the parts that matter."

That's when everything went dark. The auditorium plunged into blackness, and someone screamed—probably Brianna, whose solo was in thirty seconds.

Maya's palms were suddenly swimming pools of sweat. She'd been running tech for months, but pressure still made her brain smooth like a skipping stone. She grabbed her phone flashlight and crawled under the stage, following the cable snake's trail into the labyrinth of dusty wires and abandoned dreams from shows past.

The main power cable had come loose. Simple. Stupid. Her hands shook as she reconnected it, and lights flooded back just as Brianna hit her opening note—perfectly dramatic, perfectly intentional. The crowd went wild.

Afterward, Jay found her behind the gym, where she'd escaped to calm down. He handed her a plastic bag from the carnival. Inside, a lone goldfish swam in tiny circles, oblivious to how close it had come to becoming a prize for someone else.

"You saved the show," he said. "Also, you're basically a wizard now."

Maya watched the fish, then looked at Jay—really looked at him. Maybe pyramids weren't fixed. Maybe you could climb them. Maybe you could build your own.

"I'm keeping the fish," she said. "Naming him Cable."

Jay laughed, and Maya realized her palms weren't sweating anymore.