Knit Hat July

The cable guy uniform was hideous. I'm talking neon orange polo withstretch pants that should be illegal. But I needed money for concert tickets, and apparently your cousin Tony can get you a summer job if he's the manager's nephew. Even if you're sixteen and know nothing about actual cable installation.

Today's assignment: Mrs. Chen's house, poolside install. Perfect timing because Maya Rodriguez from AP Bio was having people over next door. I'd spent three months trying to get her to notice my existence, and my plan was: wear something cool, act casual, maybe mention that I played guitar even though I didn't own a guitar.

Instead I got: neon polo and cable coiling equipment.

I got to work, trying to look professional despite sweating through everything. The cable ran through the backyard, so naturally I had to walk past the party. Like thirty people in swimsuits, actual music playing, and there was Maya looking like she'd walked out of a teen drama. Beach waves. Sun-kissed. Real, actual sunlight, not the fluorescent kind I'd been dealing with all summer.

Then someone called my name.

"Hey! Cable guy! You want to go swimming?"

It was Jason, Maya's sort-of boyfriend, standing at the fence line holding—no way—my lucky beanie hat. The knit black one with the tiny embroidered skull that I'd worn every day since eighth grade until June. How did he get it?

"Found this at the pool last week," Jason announced, waving my hat like a prize. "Whose is it?"

I froze. If I admitted it was mine, I'd have to explain why I was wearing a skull beanie in ninety-degree heat. If I didn't, Maya would never know about my cool alternative side. Not that I really had one, but the hat made a STATEMENT.

"It's... complicated," I said, which was absolutely the wrong thing to say.

Behind me, the cable I'd been coiling snapped back and whipped into the pool. Perfect.

Maya walked over. She was wearing this vintage band t-shirt over her swimsuit and suddenly I was thinking about how every detail of her outfit was intentional and mine was just... corporate.

"That your hat?" she asked, nodding at the beanie.

"Maybe," I managed. My face felt like actual fire.

"I like skulls," she said. And then—she grinned. "Wearing it to swim would be a choice, though."

Jason tossed the hat over the fence. It landed perfectly in my hands.

"You should stay," Maya said. "After you're done. We're ordering pizza."

"I can't," I said, gesturing at my neon polo. "Work."

"After work," she corrected. "Unless you're too busy being awesome at cable."

I ended up staying. Wearing my lucky hat with my work polo, eating pizza with my crush and her friends, explaining absolutely nothing about why I'd brought a winter hat to a pool party in July. Sometimes you don't need a cool backstory. Sometimes you just need Maya to think your cable guy uniform is ironically funny and not just tragic.

And the cable I forgot to disconnect? Mrs. Chen called the next morning. I blamed it on the heat. She tipped me twenty bucks anyway.