The Cable Guy's Hat

Marcus's first week as an internet installation tech wasn't exactly the summer he'd pictured. His friends were at the beach or sleeping till noon, while he was crawling under houses playing with a fiber optic cable that seemed determined to tangle itself around everything.

"You gonna wear that hat all day?" Jasmine asked, leaning against the company van. She was twenty, had a nose ring, and treated Marcus like a little brother she hadn't asked for.

Marcus self-consciously adjusted the brim. It was his dad's old trucker hat, kinda lame but also his security blanket. First job, first time navigating adult conversations without his parents there to translate. The hat made him feel like someone who knew what he was doing.

"It's my power," he tried, and Jasmine actually laughed.

"You're such a zombie before 9 AM," she said, tossing him his clipboard. "C'mon, we've got three more installs."

Their last stop was this older house where the guy, Rick, answered the door wearing full zombie makeup—gray face paint, fake blood dripping from his chin.

"Cool costume," Marcus said, because what else do you say?

"Marathon prep," Rick explained. "Walking Dead watch party starts in two hours and my internet's been dead for three days."

The cable had been chewed through by something. Probably a squirrel. Rick helped Marcus thread the replacement line through the basement while Jasmine timed them from upstairs, shouting updates like a sports announcer.

"Marcus, you alive down there? The zombie apocalypse waits for no man!"

When they finally got the connection working, Rick insisted on taking a selfie with them. Marcus took off his hat for the photo, messing up his hair but not caring. Later, looking at the picture—zombie makeup, Jasmine's double peace signs, his own dorky grin—he realized he didn't feel like an impostor anymore.

"Not bad for a zombie," Jasmine said on the drive back, and Marcus smiled.

"Not bad at all."

The hat stayed on the dashboard. He didn't need it anymore.