The Cable Guy's Secret

Marcus never thought his summer job installing cable would make him feel like lowkey 007, but here he was.

Sixteen and awkward, Marcus had landed a gig with MetroNet because his uncle knew a guy who knew a guy. The job was mostly drilling holes and threading wires through people's walls, but it paid actual money, which was honestly a flex.

Everything changed when he got the call to install cable at Maya's house.

Maya, who sat behind him in honors chem and smelled like vanilla and stress. Maya, who'd loaned him a pen last week when his had exploded in his backpack. Maya, who was basically the reason he even bothered showing up to third period.

"You're the cable guy?" She'd raised an eyebrow, amused but not mean about it. "That's random, Marcus."

"Summer job," he'd mumbled, trying to play it cool while sweating through his polo. "My uncle hooked me up."

"No way. My dad's been complaining about needing cable for literally forever. Come in, I'll show you where the TV is."

She was wearing an oversized hoodie and her hair was in a messy bun, and Marcus felt his brain short-circuit. This was fine. Everything was fine.

The installation went sideways when he discovered her dad's "home office" — which was less an office and more a straight-up surveillance setup. Monitors everywhere. Cables snaking across the floor like electronic vines. And on the screens: footage. Of everywhere. The school. The mall. The park.

"Uh, Maya?" Marcus called out, voice cracking. "What does your dad do again?"

"Private security," she'd called back from the kitchen. "Why?"

Marcus had never moved so fast in his life. Not because he was scared — okay, maybe a little scared — but because he recognized the hallway camera footage on one of the monitors. It was from last week. After school. When he'd finally worked up the courage to ask Maya if she wanted to study for the chem test together.

She'd said yes. They'd studied. She'd smiled at him like he actually mattered.

He stared at the screen, heart racing. Her dad was spying on her. At school. With her friends. With him.

The choice hit him hard: walk away and pretend he'd seen nothing, or say something. But what if he was wrong? What if she thought he was creeping? What if this was actually normal rich-people security stuff and he was just being totally dramatic?

"Found the issue," Maya said, appearing in the doorway with two sodas. "My dad disconnected everything after the divorce. He's weird about security now. This must be his old setup."

She walked over to the monitors, shook her head, and started unplugging cables.

"Sorry about this," she said, glancing at Marcus with a tiny, tired smile. "He's got trust issues. Pretty ironic considering he's the one who cheated, right?"

Marcus just stood there, soda in hand, realizing he'd completely misread everything.

"Yeah," he managed. "That's... yeah."

"You're a good friend, Marcus," she said, handing him the other soda. "Thanks for not making this weird."

And just like that, Marcus went from cable guy to actual friend. Not by spying, but by minding his own business and accepting a soda. Not his finest heroic moment, but honestly? He'd take it.

Besides, he had her number now. And that was worth all the surveillance in the world.