The Summer Everything Broke

The coaxial cable dangling from my wall like a dead snake was just the beginning of what would become the worst Friday night of my sophomore year. I'd spent forty-five minutes trying to fix it before my mom came in, sighed that disappointed-mom sigh, and informed me that if I wanted cable back, I'd have to pay for it myself.

Which was how I ended up at Mr. Henderson's house at 7 PM on a Friday, supposedly feeding his goldfish while he was at his daughter's wedding. The goldfish, named Bubbles (original, right), stared at me with what I swear was judgment in its bulging eyes as I sprinkled those weird smelly flakes into its bowl.

Then his dog—a golden retriever named Champ who was definitely not supposed to be inside—started going full psycho mode at the back door. I let him out, figuring what could go wrong?

Everything. Everything could go wrong.

Champ spotted something in the bushes and took off like his tail was on fire. I chased him through three backyards, somehow ended up at the elementary school down the street, and that's when I saw her: Maya Rodriguez from my English class, sitting alone on the baseball dugint, crying.

I froze. Champ flopped down beside her like he'd known her forever, and she immediately started petting him, still crying. I stood there like an idiot for like thirty seconds before I finally walked over.

"Hey," I said. Smooth. Real smooth.

She looked up, eyes red. "Hey. Isn't this Mr. Henderson's dog?"

"Yeah, I kinda... lost him? He ran here and—"

Maya actually laughed. "You're the worst pet sitter ever."

"I know, right?" I sat down beside her, keeping enough distance that it wasn't weird but close enough that she wouldn't feel alone. "You okay?"

She wiped her face with her sleeve. "My parents are getting divorced. Dad moved out today."

"Oh. Shit, Maya, I'm—"

"It's fine. Well, it's not fine. But..." She leaned into Champ's golden fur. "This dog is actually really therapeutic."

We sat there for an hour, talking about everything and nothing. Her divorce fears, my cable-less existence, how much we both hated Mr. Harrison's English class. The sun went down, and I completely forgot about Bubbles the goldfish swimming in lonely circles back at Mr. Henderson's house.

Walking back later, with Champ trotting happily beside us, Maya grabbed my hand. Just for a second, but it happened.

"Thanks for chasing your dog," she said.

"Yeah," I said. "Anytime."

I got home three hours late, had to explain everything to my mom AND Mr. Henderson, and ended up grounded for two weeks. But somehow, as I lay in bed that night staring at my still-disconnected cable outlet, I couldn't stop smiling. Some broken things are worth staying broken.