In Love With The Wrong Simpson

I have come to the conclusion that if we switched bodies with cats, the world would be a much more peaceful place.

I admit that that sounds crazy at first. You would think it would be more violent, but just hear me out.

Cats don’t have prejudice, first of all. They don’t judge others on looks, nor would they on how they dress. Well, that is, if cats wore clothes. So already, we’ve created a world with virtually no bullying. And the only reason cats are violent to us in our world is because we do things to provoke them first. But in a world where all humans have cat minds, they’d basically have a silent agreement not to mess with one another. Boom, no more anger.

Cats also have no religion or understanding of politics, so wars are out of the question as well. Water wouldn’t be wasted as much since showers would be replaced with licking their bodies. And no one would be homeless. You could literally walk into a stranger’s house and they’d just shrug and go with it.

Plus, why would a human NOT want to be a cat? No more hardships, no more heartbreaks, no more stress. Just a life of jumping on elevated objects and being cute.

Okay, so I realize there’d be many, many technicalities in our little fantasy world. There would be no doctor’s, firefighters, or teachers for a very long time. But hey, if people survived when there was a time like that in the beginning, I’m sure cats can adjust as well.

These are the thoughts that are running through my mind as Cody Simpson is making out with me. And truth be told, I would not have been pulled out of my cat trance if not for feeling Cody slightly pulling on my shirt.

I put my hand on his, stopping us from going any further, and pull away. “Cody, we can’t. I  can’t. You know I’m not ready for… anything like that,” I say softly, aware that his parents are likely in the room a few feet over.

He nods and gives me a weak smile, but puts no effort in hiding that he is frustrated. Whether it’s because of me or due to his hormones, I’m not sure. Either way, I attempt to ignore the feeling, as I usually do.

I get up from our previously confined position on his couch, fix my shirt, and smooth out my hair. “I have to go. My mom told me to be back early,” I lie.

He grabs my hand and pulls me back towards him, causing both of our bodies to collide. He turns to place light kisses on my neck and I resist the urge to giggle. If only I weren’t so ticklish in every damn part of my body. “Already? Come on, I haven’t seen you in so long. Stay a bit longer.” The soundwaves of his deep voice cause vibrations to erupt against my skin.

I sigh and look into his pleading eyes. “Cody,” I start.

“Mason,” he says in the same tone, teasingly. I hide the grin threatening to overtake my face and smack his arm playfully.

Before I can reply, the door bell goes off, though Cody doesn’t notice. “Do you want to get that?” I ask in a soft tone, though truthfully, am still mesmerized by his eyes.

“It’s probably the gardener or something,” he replies. He plays around with my hands but still refuses to break eye contact with me.

The doorbell rings again and it’s as though I am whisked away from my trance. I yank my hands away from his and reach down to the couch next to us to grab my purse. I look back up to him to see a mix of confusion and hurt on his face, and I can’t help the pang of guilt that slams into my heart.

Giving him an apologetic smile, I grab his hand one last time and say, “I’ll call you tomorrow. I just… I really need to go.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek and head straight to his front door, not bothering to wait for a response or even give him a second glance.