Smitten Kitten

chapter two

     THIS CAT DOES not love me. In fact, I'm pretty sure this cat hates me.

     I sit on the countertop, swinging my legs as I hold my stare with the green eyes that have been relentlessly scrutinizing me for the past couple of days. Cold vanilla melts on my tongue as I narrow my gaze, hoping to evoke some sort of reaction from the cat, but nothing. Its expression never changes. Just pure, unadulterated contempt, as if I'm some vermin that's scrambled in from the outside. As if I should dare soil its gracious presence.

     Quite frankly, this cat can fuck off.

     "You're a cat. You don't get to judge me. You're basically a freeloader."

     Nothing.

     "And I worked on my resume today anyways. I'm going to get all of the jobs- watch me. I'm actually doing things. I'm not a freeloader."

     Still nothing.

     "Okay, so, I only changed one sentence, but the first step is the most important step. I opened it up on my computer. It's still there. It's only three. I've got the entire day."

     Absolutely nothing.

     "Oh, so you think 'cause you're one of those fancy cat breeds that has leopard spots that you're better than me? You're a cat. I'm a person. I'm above you."

     Nothing.

     "Fuck you."

     Huffing, I jump off the counter, carefully cradling the tub of ice cream in my arms. For someone who barely sweeps through his own condo, Mark keeps the fridge surprisingly well-stocked. I'd barely left these walls in days.

     Maybe a little too much indulgence, if the cat's judgement is anything to go by.

     When my feet hit the tiled floor, the cat pads away to the opposite side of the room, maintaining the careful five-meter distance it's had since I got here. Which is all right with me, considering when I'd first arrived and tried to scoop dear Cleo up into my arms, the cat had done its best job to claw my eyes out.

     Lessons have been learned.

     I almost flip the cat off, and then realize that along with my little vacation, I'd barely made any human-to-human contact in a while, and that maybe I should do that, so at least I stopped looking to the cat for conversation.

     I had gotten some headway on my book, not that anyone cared.

     Stretching, I admit that I should probably do at least some of the job hunting I'd been constantly reassuring both Mark and Nat I'd been totally doing, and how dare they, I have definitely not been watching reality TV show re-runs all day.

     Just as the thought crosses my mind, the doorbell resonates through the air, and I freeze.

     Mark and Nat are both at some wedding cake tasting across town. For a moment I think it might be Alexei, Mark's old roommate, but he'd moved everything out weeks ago. I'm definitely not expecting any visitors.

     The ending notes of the chime hang in the air for a moment as I look to the cat, who has made herself comfortable on the back of the couch. Our eyes meet. I blink.

     "Are you gonna get that?"

     Again, all the cat answers with is a glare.

     I nod, sighing. "Right, yeah, I probably should do that. Expecting any deliveries? Doing a little late night shopping on Evil Cats 'R' Us?"