Summer of Spliced Wires

The polyester uniform was already sticking to my back by 10 AM. First day on the job as a cable guy's assistant, and I was already questioning every life choice that led here.

"Running cable isn't glamorous," Marcus had said, tossing me the heavy coil. "But it pays for those hype beast sneakers you kids love."

Now I was crawling under Mrs. Henderson's porch, face-to-face with the orange tabby that ruled the neighborhood. The cat—whose Instagram account had more followers than our entire high school—stared at me like I was personally responsible for the heatwave.

"You gonna help or just judge me?" I muttered. The cat blinked, slow and deliberate. Great, now I'm being roasted by a feline influencer.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Probably the group chat blowing up about Jake's party tonight. The one I couldn't go to because I needed this job to save for college. The one where Sarah would definitely be, looking perfect in that dress from TikTok that everyone was copying.

The cat nudged my hand with its head. Surprisingly soft. I scratched behind its ears, and it made that sound like a tiny motor. Funny how something this small could have 50k followers when I was still trying to figure out who I was supposed to be.

"You know what?" I told the cat. "At least you don't have to worry about being cool." It purred like it agreed.

Marcus called from above. "Yo, you done yet? This isn't a nap break."

I grabbed the cable, wiped sweat from my forehead, and inched backward. The cat watched me go, maybe with something like respect in its yellow eyes.

By 4 PM, I'd done three installations, earned $60, and somehow gained a new follower on Instagram. The cat's account, naturally.

Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad after all.