Kitty

8

"You have a lot of freckles," Jay says, reaching out to touch one.

I slap his hand away, trying to fill in the graph of my Chemistry homework.

"Of course I do, I'm a ginger. Now are you going to work on your English or not? I came to help you, not to talk about all my freckles."

"Sassy much?" he mutters under his breath, but starts typing on his document.

We work in silence for an hour until I resign to editing his English homework for him, lecturing him on all his mistakes.

All of a sudden, Jay goes quiet, which is unusual because he's been sarcastically answering my lecturing this whole time. I look up to see Jay staring at a stuffed cat on his bed. Oh my god. He sleeps with a stuffed animal.

"Awww, Jay, you have a heart?" I say, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

He snaps out of his trance, realizing I noticed him staring at the cat. He glares at me, looking slightly embarrassed, and says, "Of course I do. Unlike a grumpy little ginger I know."

I gasp, looking away with an offended face. He laughs, and says, "Actually, I got this to practice petting cats."

Now he's looking away, completely embarrassed, and I'm staring at him with my mouth open. I was joking with him at first, but that's so fucking precious. Then I realize I could take advantage of this opportunity.

I stand up from my spot on the floor and go over to his bed, sitting down on it. OhmygodI'msittingonhisbedrightnowIwonderwh- NO. Focus Leo. I pick the stuffed cat up and place it on my lap.

"Listen and learn, Jay," I say, making sure I have his attention. I pet the stuffed cat calmly and softly, stroking the fake fur the right way. "Cats like to have their hair stroked in the direction it lays. Like dogs. Start at the top of their head, then follow through the pet til you reach the base of their tail. Some cats like their tails to be stroked as well, I guess, but it's not as common," I say, showing him with the cat. "This is your basic way of how to pet a cat. After you get the hang of it, try different ways to please the cat. Like scratching its chin, rubbing the base of the tail, and rubbing or scratching behind its ears. Never pet a cat on its belly," I warn, tossing the stuffed cat at him. "That's what'll happen."

He nods seriously, which makes me snort, trying to hold in my laugh.

"How do you know all this if you don't have a cat?" he asks, already practicing petting the stuffed cat.

"Do you not remember me telling you about my neighbor's cat?" I say, saving myself.

"Oh yeahhh."

Now I teach him about what cats do and don't like, shifting our focus away from our unfinished homework. He seems to actually learn how to be nice to a cat, which makes me hopeful for our future encounters when I'm a cat.

Eventually, I start fading, my eyes having trouble staying open. I think I carry a few cat traits over from my cat form, one being getting tired easily. I check the time (10:34 pm), and remember to text my parents about my recently scheduled sleepover.

"Um, Jay?" I say quietly, not exactly wanting to bring this up.

"Hm?" he says, looking up from the stuffed cat.

"Where am I going to sleep tonight?" I ask nervously.

"Here, duh," he says, rolling his eyes.

I shove him, glaring at him. "I mean where, here."

"Oh, you can sleep on the bed with me, but if you'd feel uncomfortable with that, my mom can pull out a mattress."

Oh thank god. There is no way I'm going to sleep in the same bed as him, with my heart already racing everytime we come in close contact. Besides, this is my first time hanging out with him. I wanna get to know him better before I wake up accidentally hugging him. That would be a setback to our friendship .

"Um, if it's not too much trouble, can I sleep on the mattress?"

After borrowing a toothbrush and pajamas, I get situated on my mattress, pulling a spare blanket up to my chin. I can hear Jay shuffle around in his bed nearby, getting comfortable. I breath a sigh of relief that I didn' t do anything too stupid today, considering this is my first sleepover. Like, ever. I know, I have a sad childhood.

"Hey, Jay?" I whisper, waiting for a response.

"Hm?" he says quietly.

"Why do you like cats so much?"

"Cause they're soft and they purr. Goodnight, Leo."

"Oh. Goodnight Jay."

I fall asleep smiling, happy I've made a friend.