The Riddle of Locked Screens

Marcus stared at the black TV screen, the cable outage crushing his summer plans. Another Saturday night stuck at home while his friends were at Tyler's party, probably living their best lives without him.

His golden retriever, Buster, nosed his knee, whimpering for attention. Meanwhile, Cleo—the family cat who acted like she owned the place—sat on the windowsill, eyeing him with that sphinx-like judgment only cats could pull off.

"You too?" Marcus muttered. "Even the cat thinks I'm lame."

His phone buzzed. Jenna.

u coming? Tyler's got his parents' liquor cabinet unlocked lol

Marcus's thumb hovered over the screen. This was it—the moment everyone talked about. The crossroads. The before-and-after. He'd spent months watching from the sidelines while everyone else collected firsts: first kiss, first drunk, first massive mistake they'd laugh about later.

But he'd promised his mom he'd watch his little sister. She was at a sleepover, but still.

Buster licked his hand, leaving that gross warm spot only dogs could create.

"What would you do?" Marcus asked the dog. Buster just thumped his tail against the floor.

The sphinx stare from Cleo intensified.

Outside, he heard the *thwack* of a baseball hitting a bat—the neighborhood kids playing night ball under the streetlights. That simple, innocent sound from another lifetime.

Marcus typed: nah can't. stuck at home

The reply came instantly: lol ok. ur loss

The dots bounced, then disappeared.

Marcus set down his phone. Buster flopped onto his feet. Cleo finally deigned to jump down and curl against his leg.

Maybe sixteen didn't have to be about rushing everything. Maybe the riddle wasn't about growing up faster—it was about figuring out what actually mattered.

"Alright," Marcus said, scratching both pets. "Tomorrow. Tonight, we watch whatever old movies are actually on broadcast TV."

The cable remained stubbornly dark. But for the first time all summer, Marcus didn't feel like he was missing out.