Offline Mode

Marcus stared at his iphone, thumb hovering over the Instagram app. Another snap streak? Another tiktok to doomscroll? The notifications stacked up like innings in a never-ending game.

"You gonna stare at that screen all day, or are you gonna practice your swing?" His dad's voice drifted through the screen door.

Marcus sighed, shoving the phone in his pocket. Outside, the baseball diamond waited. He'd been the star freshman pitcher until last week's disastrous inning—three walks, two hit batters, and a grand slam that cleared the fence by miles. The video was everywhere. His phone had been blowing up ever since.

He grabbed his glove and headed to the backyard, where his pet goldfish Finbob swam lazy circles in his bowl on the patio table. Finbob didn't care about ERA or viral videos. Finbob just wanted his flakes and to not be eaten by the neighborhood cats.

"At least someone's got it easy," Marcus muttered, grabbing a baseball from the bucket.

He started his pitching motion, visualizing the strike zone like Coach Miller taught them. But his phone buzzed in his pocket. Again. He couldn't help himself—he pulled it out.

NEW COMMENT on your fail video: "bro should quit while he's behind 💀"

Marcus's face burned. He almost threw the phone against the fence, but his mom had just bought it for his birthday two months ago. Instead, he shoved it deep in his bag and grabbed his bike. He needed to get away.

He pedaled toward the woods behind their subdivision, following the trail he'd discovered last summer. The farther he went, the quieter everything got. No notifications. No expectations. Just trees and dirt and the sound of his own breathing.

An hour later, he realized he'd gone farther than usual. The trail was overgrown, and the sun was starting to dip. He turned around—and froze.

Fifty feet away, a black bear watched him from behind a tree.

Marcus's heart hammered against his ribs like a runner trying to steal home. The bear wasn't huge, but it was definitely a bear, with actual claws and everything. It sniffed the air, then turned and lumbered away, clearly more interested in some berries than the terrified teenager on a bicycle.

Marcus stood there for five whole minutes before his legs would move again.

When he finally got home, shaking and sweaty, his phone buzzed with a text from his teammate Jayden: "Coach wants us at the field tomorrow. We need our ace back."

Marcus looked at Finbob, who was still swimming his same lazy circles, completely unaware that any of this had happened.

"You know what, little dude?" Marcus said. "I think I'm done with the phone for a while."

He left it on the kitchen counter, grabbed his glove, and went outside to play catch with his dad.

The notifications could wait. Sometimes, the real game was happening right in front of him.