The Cable Went Dark

Maya pushed the spinach around her tray with plastic fork, watching it wilt under the fluorescent cafeteria lights. This was what being mature looked like, apparently — eating leaves instead of the tater tots that had sustained her through freshman year.

"You coming to Taylor's thing?" asked Jada, sliding onto the bench across from her.

Maya's hand went to her hair — she'd dyed it electric blue two days ago, a spur-of-the-moment decision that had made her mother cry and her dad cut the cable. No more streaming her shows, no more background noise to drown out the awkwardness of existing. Now the house was too quiet, and Maya had too much time to think about how she didn't fit anywhere.

"Yeah," Maya said, though something about Taylor's "youth entrepreneurship network" set off every alarm in her gut. "It's probably fine."

* * *

The meeting was in Taylor's basement, crowded with sophomores Maya had never felt cool enough to breathe the same air as. They sat in rows facing a whiteboard while Taylor's cousin — twenty-two, wearing a suit that cost more than Maya's wardrobe — explained how they could all be their own bosses.

"It's not a pyramid scheme," he said, drawing the very shape he claimed it wasn't. "It's a *network.*"

Maya's eyes narrowed. Her dad had warned her about this stuff, right after he'd cancelled the cable as punishment for the blue hair incident. He'd sat her down and said, "Maya, people will try to sell you dreams. The only thing that's actually yours is your ability to say no."

She looked around the room. These girls she'd spent three years trying to impress, all nodding, all wanting what Taylor had — the effortless confidence, the curated Instagram aesthetic, the feeling that they belonged somewhere.

Then she saw Aisha in the back, shifting uncomfortably, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. Aisha, who'd started bringing spinach wraps to lunch too, like they were both trying to grow into different versions of themselves.

Maya stood up.

"This is a pyramid scheme," she said, and her voice didn't shake. "You're asking us to pay to sell stuff to our friends so you can take a cut. That's not entrepreneurship. That's exploitation."

Taylor's face fell. The cousin stared.

"Whatever," someone muttered. "You're just mad because your parents cancelled your cable."

Maya laughed. "Yeah, they did. And it sucked. But at least my house doesn't smell like desperation."

She motioned to Aisha, and they walked out together into the cool October air.

"My dad would kill me if he knew I almost fell for that," Aisha said, blowing hair out of her face.

"My dad's the one who taught me better," Maya said. "Hey. You want to come over? We can eat something that actually tastes good."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. But definitely not spinach."