The Cable Guy's Daughter

Maya pressed herself against the pantry door, holding her breath like she was underwater. Through the crack in the doorframe, she could see him—Ethan Nguyen from AP Bio, standing in her living room. He was wearing that vintage band t-shirt she'd seen him in three times this week. Her heart did that fluttery thing it did whenever he walked into her classroom, even though he'd never once looked her way.

"Just need to check the connection in your room," he said, carrying his dad's cable toolbox like he owned the place. His dad was THE cable guy, the one her mom had called after their internet went down for the third time this month. And now Ethan—Ethan Nguyen, who sat two rows behind her in third period—was walking toward her bedroom.

Maya scrambled backward, tripping over a laundry basket and landing on her bed. Her walls were covered in printed photos of—no. No no no. She'd forgotten she'd taped that picture of him from spring formal right above her bedframe. The one where he was laughing with someone else, obviously, but she'd cropped it so it looked like he was just... laughing. Alone. NOT CREEPY. TOTALLY NORMAL.

She grabbed her phone, thumbs flying across the screen as she WhatsApped Sofia: this is not a drill. he's coming into my room. the picture is up. i look like a total stalker.

Sofia replied instantly: chill. just act normal. you're good. unless you have something else incriminating up there???

Maya froze. The papaya.

Last week, she'd tried to be ~exotic~ and ~adventurous~ by buying a papaya at Whole Foods because she read online that papaya enzymes were supposed to be good for your skin. But it had sat on her desk for three days, growing softer and weirder-smelling, and she still hadn't worked up the courage to actually cut it open. It was just... sitting there. Like a weird tropical judgment on her ability to adult.

"Knock knock?"

Ethan stood in her doorway, cable tester in one hand, looking around. His eyes swept over her walls. Over the printed photos. Over the papaya.

"Nice... setup," he said, gesturing vaguely. "You're really into photography?"

"Oh, yeah," Maya squeaked. "Just some... random shots. From... everywhere. You know."

"Cool." He crouched by her desk, fiddling with something behind her computer. "Hey, is that papaya?"

"What? No. Maybe. I mean—yes. But I don't know how to cut it. I saw on TikTok that it's supposed to be good for your skin? But honestly I think I'm just gonna compost it at this point. It's been four days and I'm still just... staring at it judgmentally."

Ethan laughed. Not pity-laughed, actually laughed. "Dude, my dad tried to get my mom into papayas last year. She said they taste like wet feet. But if you want, I can show you this hack where you—"

"EVERYTHING'S GOOD IN HERE," Maya's mom's voice rang up the stairs. "JUST COMING TO CHECK ON THINGS!"

Maya closed her eyes. Her mom. The ultimate cockblock. Her mom's head appeared in the doorway. "Oh! Ethan! Are you finding everything okay? Maya, honey, did you know Ethan's on the debate team? He's going to Nationals this year!"

"Mom, we're in AP Bio together," Maya said through gritted teeth.

"Right! Of course!" Her mom smiled brightly. "Well, I just wanted to—oh, is that a papaya?"

"We were just discussing it," Ethan said, straight-faced. "Maya was about to show me her collection of exotic fruits. She's really into... agricultural Instagram."

Maya stared at him. Was he... was he being sarcastic? Or was he actually—?

"That's SO fascinating!" Her mom nodded vigorously. "You two have fun! I'll be... downstairs. Doing mom things!"

The silence that followed was excruciating. Ethan kept messing with cables, but Maya could see his shoulders shaking slightly.

"So," she said, finally. "Agricultural Instagram? Really?"

He turned around, grinning. "What? I thought it sounded convincing. Your mom seemed totally into it."

"You're literally the worst person I've ever met."

"I saved your life," he said, pointing his cable tester at her. "She would've been here for another ten minutes giving you the 'this is such a nice boy' speech. I've seen it happen. My dad's the cable guy, remember? I know how these things go."

Maya felt something warm in her chest that wasn't panic for once. "Wait. Did you just compare my mom to other moms you've met while your dad fixed their internet?"

"I didn't say that," Ethan said, but he was definitely smirking. "Anyway, your connection's fixed. You should be good to go. But uh—" He gestured toward her desk. "If you ever want help with that papaya, I know this TikTok hack that actually works. My little sister showed me."

Maya blinked. "Your little sister?"

"She's obsessed with skincare too. Don't worry, I won't tell her you're into papaya enzymes. That's YOUR secret to keep."

He walked to the door, then paused. "Oh, and Maya?"

"Yeah?"

"You should take that picture down. You know the one." His grin widened. "It's kind of obvious."

Maya's face burned. "I—what—no—"

"Relax, I'm kidding. Mostly." He shrugged. "See you in Bio."

He left, and Maya collapsed back onto her bed, staring up at the cropped photo above her headframe. Sofia's WhatsApp showed another message: well???? WHAT HAPPENED????

Maya sat up, grabbed the papaya, and weighed it in her hand. He'd noticed. He'd definitely noticed. And he'd made a joke about it instead of being weird about it. That had to count for something, right?

She texted Sofia back: i might actually cut this papaya today. also he definitely saw the picture. i think i'm gonna die but also maybe not???

Downstairs, she could hear her mom chatting with Ethan's dad. She grabbed her phone and opened TikTok, searching for "how to cut a papaya without dying." Next time—if there was a next time—she was going to be ready. Papaya-wise. Ethan-wise. Everything-wise.

Probably.