The Cable Between Us

Maya pressed her sweaty **palm** against her jeans, trying not to hyperventilate. The cafeterium noise hit her like a physical wave—laughter, trays clattering, someone shouting about a cancelled **cable** subscription like it mattered. Everything mattered too much when you were fifteen and your body was basically a betrayal machine.

She'd been **running** on three hours of sleep and pure adrenaline since Jordan had texted her at 2 AM. Just three words: "we need to talk." The universal phrase that meant your life was about to explode.

"You look like a **zombie**," said Kai, dropping into the seat across from her. "Did you even shower?"

Maya flipped him off without making eye contact. Kai had been her person since sixth grade, back when they'd both been awkward pre-nerds before the glow-up that had turned him into someone who got invited to parties. She was still waiting for her glow-up. Apparently it was scheduled somewhere between "learn to exist" and "stop existing."

"Jordan's coming," Maya whispered, and suddenly the cafeterium felt smaller.

Jordan. With their stupid perfect hair and their stupid everything. Maya had spent the entire year being normal friends with Jordan while secretly wanting to crawl out of her skin every time they smiled at her. Which was often. Because Jordan was like that—generous with smiles, careless with hearts.

They sat down next to Maya. Not across. Next. Thighs touching. Maya's palm sweated through her jeans.

"So," Jordan said. "I've been thinking about prom."

The word hit like a truck. Prom. The ultimate social minefield. The place where reputations went to live or die.

"Cool," Maya said, proud of how her voice didn't shake. "You going with anyone?"

"I was hoping," Jordan said, and Maya's heart performed some kind of gymnastic routine, "that maybe you'd want to go together? Like, together-together?"

Kai dropped his fork. The clatter echoed. Someone at the next table shushed them.

Maya stared at Jordan, who was actually nervous. She could see it in the way Jordan's fingers kept finding the hem of their sleeve, twisting it. Perfect Jordan, nervous about asking HER to prom.

"I'm not great at this," Jordan continued, rushing now. "I've been wanting to say something all year but I didn't want to mess up our friendship and then last night I couldn't sleep so I texted you and now I'm probably making a huge mistake—"

"Yes," Maya said.

Jordan stopped mid-sentence. "What?"

"Yes. I mean, if you're asking what I think you're asking."

The relief on Jordan's face was so genuine that Maya felt something in her chest unlock. Something that had been tight and waiting for months.

"Oh thank god," Jordan said. "I was literally going to throw up."

"Gross," Kai said, but he was grinning.

Maya wiped her palm on her jeans one last time and finally, finally smiled. This year she'd spent running away from what she wanted, feeling like a zombie going through motions, scared to reach for anything real. But here was Jordan, sitting close enough that their shoulders pressed together, looking at her like she was the best thing that had happened all year.

Sometimes you had to risk the cable snapping—the connection breaking—to find out it was stronger than you thought. Sometimes you had to stop running and let yourself want things.

"So," Jordan said, grinning now. "Prom. We should probably plan outfits. Coordinate?"

"Absolutely," Maya said. "I'm thinking matching zoot suits."

Jordan laughed, and it was the best sound Maya had heard in forever. "Deal."