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“Stop!” Kamala said.

“Good thing you were so mean that first day, Dale,” Asher said, “or she wouldn’t have felt sorry for me.”

“I call the next fake-catfish scenario!” Dale said.

“I do not recommend the lying part,” I said. “Or the posting-without-permission part.”

“So,” Dale said, “are you giving me permission to repost?”

Everyone groaned.

“For the views!” he said. “Ten million views!”

Bean let out a bark.

“I’m going to take him on the playground,” Asher said, hopping to his feet.

I stood too. “Sounds fun.”

Asher grabbed my hand as we walked toward the slide. “Do you think I would have stood a chance with you if this dog hadn’t liked me?”

I started to say,Of course you would’ve,but then I remembered that first day at the shelter, walking down the hall, seeing him holding the end of Bean’s leash. It was the first time I had really looked at him, had really wanted to look at him. “Probably not.”

He laughed. “That’s what I thought. Thank goodness this dog likes punks.”

I pulled his hand toward me, bringing him closer, then pushed up on my tiptoes and kissed him.