The WiFi Mission

Maya crouched behind the clubhouse, her knees pressed into the mulch. The neighborhood association's monthly meeting droned on inside, but she wasn't here for the homeowner drama. She was here for the free WiFi.

The padel courts beyond the pool area were empty—the new lights the association had fought over for three months sat unused. Maya's phone had died at 2%, taking her chances with Tyler's final text into the digital void. Did he say "let's hang" or "later, weird"? The three dots of uncertainty had been haunting her since lunch.

A calico cat materialized from the hydrangeas, judging her with yellow eyes.

"I'm not weird," Maya whispered. "I'm strategic."

The cat's tail flicked. It had seen better days—patchy fur, a notch in its ear. A survivor.

Something moved in the window above her. Maya's heart did that thing where it forgot how to beat. Ethan. The guy who'd transferred from Chicago two weeks ago and somehow already had a friend group and varsity jacket vibes and perfect hair that defied humidity.

He was watching her.

No, not watching her. He was watching something behind her, and then he held up his phone in a weird gesture, like a salute but with way more awkward energy.

Maya turned. The calico was now sitting by the exposed cable box on the side of the building, batting at the coaxial cable like it was a toy.

"Oh no," she breathed. "Please don't—"

The cat's claws caught. The cable pulled loose with a snap Maya felt in her bones.

Inside, the meeting audio cut out mid-sentence. A chorus of confused voices erupted.

Ethan vanished from the window.

Maya scrambled up, grabbing the cat before it could do more damage. The animal purred like a diesel engine, completely unbothered by its crime spree. She booked it toward the back fence, hears pounding behind her—probably the association president, who was already in a mood about someone's lawn ornaments.

She vaulted the fence with feral adrenaline she didn't know she possessed, tumbling into the neighbor's yard. A figure was already there, flattened against the shed.

"Nice spy skills," Ethan whispered, breathless. "I saw you out here and thought—"

"You saw me?" Maya's face burned. "Since when?"

"Since before the cat situation." He grinned, and somehow it wasn't annoying. "I was gonna come say hi, but then you went full commando, and honestly? Respect."

The calico wriggled free and bolted toward the padel courts.

"We should probably run," Ethan said.

Maya's phone buzzed in her pocket—Tyler's text finally came through. *That party Friday? You should come.*

She looked at Ethan, who was looking at her like maybe he'd been wanting an excuse to talk to her for weeks.

"Yeah," Maya said, and they ran together into the night, association drama and电缆 boxes and uncertainty left behind. "Running works."