The Last Text

The water rippled blue and perfect, like something out of a TikTok filter I couldn't afford to use. Maya's cousin's pool party. The kind where everyone's parents are nowhere to be found and someone's older brother has a cooler he shouldn't.

I stood there in my Target swimsuit, clutching my iPhone like it was a lifeline. Three notifications glowed at the top. From Tyler. The boy who'd been sitting next to me in bio since September, who finally noticed me three weeks ago, who said he'd come tonight.

screen Tyler: stuck at family dinner, sorry 😕

That was it. The third cancel in a row. My thumb hovered over the keyboard, ready to type something chill, something that said no biggie, we're cool. But my chest felt like someone had reached inside and squeezed.

"Yo, you gonna stand there all night or actually get in?"

Marcus. All varsity jacket confidence and perfectly messy hair. The kind of guy who'd never look twice at me in the hallway but was suddenly my best friend at a party.

I forced a laugh. "Yeah, just checking something."

My phone buzzed again. Not Tyler. My mom. Where are you? Mr. Henderson's dog got out again.

Then I heard it – barking, from somewhere inside the house. chaos erupted. People were screaming, laughing, someone shouted "THE DOG!" and suddenly a Golden Retriever burst through the sliding glass doors, barking like it had just discovered its life's purpose.

The dog didn't care about social hierarchies or who was dating who or whether I was having a good time. It saw the pool and went for it.

"NO!" someone screamed.

Too late. Splash.

But that wasn't even the worst part. Because clutched in the dog's mouth as it swam proudly to the other end was a small plastic bag. Inside, a single orange goldfish, probably meant for some party game or prize, now swimming in confused circles in its temporary bag-ocean while a literal dog performed a chaotic rescue mission.

Everyone stared. Then someone started laughing. Then everyone was laughing.

Marcus wiped water from his face, grinning. "Well, that's definitely a first."

I looked at my iPhone, the Tyler conversation still open, the unsent response hanging there like an awkward pause. Then I looked at the dog, now paddling around with a goldfish like it had just won the Olympics.

I started laughing too. Like, really laughing.

That night, I blocked Tyler's notifications. Some things aren't worth the wait. But a dog who saves goldfish? That's the kind of drama I could actually get behind.