Teenage texts
Pixels and Park Benches
**Jules:** Ugh, finally made it to the park. Cooper is literally jogging circles around me because he has “too much energy.” 🙄
**Buck:** Must be nice. I’m currently staring at a brick wall in Baltimore. It’s riveting. Truly.
**Jules:** Stop being a drama queen. I’m calling you.
***
The screen of Jules’s phone flickered to life, showing a grainy, slightly pixelated view of Buck Meltsner’s face. He was slumped against a headboard, his dark hair messy, looking every bit the disgruntled exile.
"You look like you haven't seen sunlight in a week, Buck," Jules said, holding the phone out at arm's length as she walked along the paved path of McAlister Park.
"I haven't seen *Odyssey* sunlight, which is the only kind that matters," Buck grumbled through the speaker. "Why is the camera shaking so much? Are you being chased by a bear? Because that would actually be interesting."
"No, I'm being chased by a golden retriever in human form," Jules replied, flipping the camera around.
The frame blurred for a second before settling on Cooper Calhoun. He was a few yards ahead, dribbling a basketball with practiced ease, his movements fluid and athletic. He caught the ball against his hip and flashed a blindingly white smile at the camera when he realized Jules was filming.
"Hey, Buck! How’s the big city treating you?" Cooper called out, his voice booming with genuine cheer.
Buck’s voice came through the phone with a heavy sigh. "It’s loud, it smells like exhaust, and nobody here knows how to make a decent milkshake. Put Jules back on before I start crying."
Jules flipped the camera back to herself, smirking. "See? He’s miserable. It’s his natural state."
"I am not miserable," Buck protested, though his expression suggested otherwise. "I am culturally starved. So, what’s the plan? Are you two actually going to do something, or am I just here to witness Cooper’s daily hair-care routine?"
"We’re waiting for Bridget," Jules said, finding a bench near the basketball courts and dropping her bag onto it. "She said she’d be here ten minutes ago, but she’s probably stuck in some sibling-induced nightmare."
As if on cue, the group chat on Jules’s screen started pinging rapidly.
**Bridget:** I hate everything.
**Bridget:** If I have to hear the word “dinosaurs” one more time I am going to scream.
**Bridget:** Wyatt lost his plastic T-Rex in the laundry basket and apparently the world is ending.
**Jules:** (to the phone) Speak of the devil. Bridget’s having a meltdown.
"Tell her to leave the kid in the laundry basket and run," Buck suggested. "That’s what I’d do. Though, to be fair, that’s probably why I’m not allowed to babysit anymore."
"You were never allowed to babysit, Buck," Jules reminded him.
Cooper wandered over to the bench, leaning over Jules’s shoulder to look at the phone. "Hey, Buck, you should see the new rims they put up. They’re crisp. You’re missing out on the best pickup games of the season."
Buck groaned, throwing his head back against his pillow. "You’re killing me, Coop. You’re actually killing me. I’m stuck here doing algebra while you guys are out living the dream in the land of Whit’s End and reasonable traffic."
"It’s not all sunshine," Jules said, though she couldn't hide her grin. "It rained yesterday for like, twenty minutes. It was very gloomy."
"Oh, the horror," Buck deadpanned.
Suddenly, a new figure appeared in the distance, stomping toward the benches. Even from fifty yards away, the cloud of frustration surrounding Bridget Perkins was visible. She was wearing a hoodie despite the warmth, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"She's here," Jules whispered into the phone. "And she looks like she’s ready to fight a tree."
"Put me on speaker," Buck commanded. "I want to hear the chaos."
Jules hit the button just as Bridget reached them. Bridget didn't even say hello; she just collapsed onto the bench next to Jules and let out a long, theatrical groan.
"He hid my car keys in his Lego bin," Bridget snapped, staring at the sky. "He told me he was 'protecting the village from the metal giant.' I spent forty minutes digging through plastic blocks just so I could drive here."
"Sounds like Wyatt is developing a strong sense of security," Cooper joked, spinning the basketball on his finger.
Bridget shot him a look that could have withered a cactus. "Don't. Just don't, Cooper. I am one 'rawr' away from moving to a desert island."
"Hey Bridget," Buck’s voice crackled from the phone. "If it makes you feel any better, I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat. I’ll take the Legos and the dinosaurs if it means I don't have to look at another Baltimore city bus."
Bridget leaned over to look at the screen. "Buck. You’re still alive. I figured you’d have been eaten by a subway rat by now."
"They tried," Buck said solemnly. "But I fought them off with a stale pretzel. It was harrowing."
Jules laughed, leaning her head back against the bench. "See? This is what you’re missing. Bridget’s rage, Cooper’s ego, and my... whatever it is I do."
"You provide the cynical commentary," Buck supplied. "It’s an essential service."
**Bridget:** 🦖 🔫
**Jules:** Bridget just sent a dinosaur and a water gun emoji. I think she’s planning a hit.
**Buck:** I’ll provide the alibi. I’ll say she was in Baltimore with me the whole time.
**Cooper:** Guys, can we actually play? My arm is falling off from holding this ball.
"Go play, Coop," Jules said, waving him off. "I need to finish hearing about Buck’s tragic life in the urban wilderness."
Cooper shrugged, heading toward the court. "Your loss! Bridget, you coming? You can pretend the backboard is Wyatt’s Lego bin."
Bridget stood up, cracking her knuckles. "Actually, that sounds incredibly therapeutic. Buck, stay on the line. I want you to hear the sound of me crushing Cooper’s spirit."
"I’m not going anywhere," Buck promised.
Jules propped the phone up against her water bottle so Buck could see the court. As Bridget and Cooper started a heated game of one-on-one, Jules sat back, watching the screen where her best friend sat hundreds of miles away.
"You really hate it there, don't you?" she asked softly, her voice dropping so the others wouldn't hear.
Buck’s persona shifted slightly, the bravado slipping just a fraction. "It’s just... quiet. Not the good kind of Odyssey quiet. The kind where you realize you’re just a face in a crowd and nobody knows your name. I miss the shop. I miss the park. I miss... well, you know."
"I know," Jules said. "We miss you too. Even if Bridget is too busy being mad at dinosaurs to say it."
"Hey!" Bridget yelled from the court, having just blocked Cooper's shot. "I heard that! I miss him too! Mostly because he’s the only one who agrees that Wyatt is a menace!"
Buck laughed, a genuine sound that made the distance feel a little smaller. "Keep the camera on the game, Jules. I want to see if Bridget actually knocks him over."
"She’s getting close," Jules reported, watching Bridget dive for a loose ball.
For the next hour, the four of them stayed connected through the tiny glowing screen. They argued over fouls, made fun of Cooper’s "victory dance," and listened to Buck complain about his homework. In the middle of a park in Odyssey, with the sun starting to dip low and the shadows stretching long across the grass, it almost felt like things were back to normal.
**Jules:** (typing in the chat while watching the game) Honestly, if we just taped the phone to a pole, it’d be like Buck never left.
**Buck:** Don’t tempt me. I’ll have my dad mail me to you in a crate.
**Bridget:** Only if you bring snacks. Baltimore has those weird crab chips, right?
**Buck:** I’ll bring a suitcase full. Just get me out of here.
Jules looked at the screen, seeing Buck smile as he watched their friends run around on the court. She realized that even though they were miles apart, the group chat and the late-night calls were the glue holding them together.
"Okay, Buck," Jules said, picking up the phone as the sun began to set. "We’re heading to Whit’s End. Do you want us to stay on, or is the sight of a Wod-Fam-Choc-Pod too much for your fragile heart?"
Buck sighed, a dramatic, lingering sound. "Go. Eat a sundae for me. But Jules?"
"Yeah?"
"Keep the chat active. It’s the only thing keeping me sane."
"Always," Jules promised, waving to the camera before hanging up.
She stood up and whistled to Cooper and Bridget. "Come on, losers. I’m buying. But if Bridget mentions a T-Rex, she’s paying for her own."
Bridget wiped sweat from her forehead and grinned. "Deal. Let’s go before Wyatt finds my spare set of keys."