The Cable Between Us

Maya's padel racket felt like an extension of her arm as she smashed the ball against the glass wall, the satisfying *thwack* echoing through the court. Friday night padel with the crew was supposed to be chill, but her stomach had been doing backflips all week.

"Yo, Maya, you're playing like you're trying out for the Olympics," Jordan called out, sweat dripping down his temple as he high-fived her. "Everything good with you and Alex?"

"We're good," she lied, her voice cracking slightly. The truth was, Alex had been acting weird all week—short texts, cancelled plans, that one-word energy that screamed *something's wrong but I won't tell you what.*

After the game, everyone headed to the parking lot except Maya. She'd "forgotten" her phone charger again—classic excuse to stick around. But as she reached behind the TV mounted in the lounge, her fingers brushed against something loose. A thick black cable, barely connected, dangling like it'd been yanked.

Weird. The TV still worked.

She traced the cable with her eyes, following it across the ceiling, behind a potted plant, and—wait. Into the storage closet. The *locked* storage closet.

Maya's heart did that thing where it forgot how to beat normally. Suddenly she felt like a total spy, crouching there in her padel clothes, pulse racing as she tugged gently at the cable. It gave. The closet door's fake lock popped open.

Inside, she found Alex.

He jumped like he'd been electrocuted, dropping the bundle of fairy lights he'd been awkwardly wrestling with. The cable she'd found? It was powering them, along with a portable speaker and—Maya squinted—a small projector screen.

"I was going to ask you to prom tomorrow night," Alex rushed out, face redder than the padel court after sunset. "Here. After you win the championship game. I know how much you love this place, and I wanted it to be special but everything kept breaking and—"

Maya started laughing. Not the fake laugh she used when her friends made cringe jokes, but the real one that made her stomach hurt. "You've been blowing me off all week to set up a promposal? At the padel courts?"

"Is that weird?" Alex looked terrified.

"It's perfect," she said, and it was. Sometimes the things we think are suspicious are actually just someone trying, in their own messy way, to show us they care.