The Unfiltered Feed

Marcus's thumb hovered over his iPhone screen, the sixth draft of his caption to Layla sitting in the text box. Delete. Rewrite. Delete again.

"You good, bro?" His best mate Dre smirked from across the lunch table. "Been staring at that phone like it holds the secrets to the universe."

"Just trying to sound... I dunno. Not weird." Marcus ran a hand through his curls. Layla, the junior varsity shortstop who actually laughed at his terrible jokes in bio last week, had liked his story. This was his shot.

His phone buzzed. MOM: Pick up Buster from vet. Practice runs late.

Marcus groaned. Buster, their chaotic golden retriever mix, had been on house arrest after eating Marcus's baseball cleats. Again.

"Dog drama?" Dre asked.

"The worst." Marcus shoved his phone in his pocket. "Gotta bail on the baseball game tonight."

The varsity team was playing their rivals, and everyone was going. Including Layla. He'd been planning to sit near her, maybe make a move.

Walking home, Marcus found Buster unusually calm—until they hit the park. The dog spotted something and took off, dragging Marcus toward the baseball field where JV was practicing.

"Buster! No!" But it was too late.

The dog barreled onto the field, grabbed a stray ball, and started doing his weird happy-spin dance, tossing the ball and catching it in mid-air. The team erupted in laughter. Even Coach was cracking up.

Marcus scrambled onto the field, mortified. "Sorry, sorry, he's—"

"That's your dog?" Layla jogged over, eyes bright. "He's hilarious!"

Before Marcus could respond, Buster dropped the slobbery ball at her feet and wagged his tail like he'd just won the World Series.

"He's choosing you over me," Marcus said, and Layla actually laughed.

"Good taste." She held up her phone. "Can I?"

Marcus shrugged. "Go for it."

Layla filmed Buster doing his spin-dance routine, then posted it to her story with the caption: This good boy >> all of us.

His phone buzzed nonstop the rest of the evening. People he'd barely spoken to were sharing the video, commenting about his "legendary dog." Even the varsity captain slid into his DMs: Your dog's got better moves than half our team.

Marcus sat on his bed that night, Buster curled up beside him (no cleats in sight, thankfully), and finally typed out a message to Layla.

Thanks for making Buster famous. Also, wanna hang this weekend?

Her response came instantly: Only if the dog comes.

Marcus grinned, and for the first time in weeks, he hit send without overthinking it. Some things were better unfiltered.