Page 14 of Three Meows

At least until I found the fourth one.

Chapter Nine

“For you, Lisa.”

I startled at the beautiful and delightfully colorful paper rose thrust in my direction.

“Ah, thank you, Kevin,” I said politely, taking the flower. “Some leftovers from your last stage play?”

Kevin was a theater kid and often added to the visual interest of the school plays with his handmade creations.

“No, the next scene change is in a week,” he said, then stared at me.

“He gave you flowers!” Claudia, my classmate, hissed in a not at all discreet voice.

Oh.

Oh.

“Technically Kevin has given meaflower,” I shoot back then turned back to the waiting man. “…would you like to give me more?”

Kevin nodded resolutely. “And take you on a date,” he added.

I ignored the reactions of my nosy classmates and studied my perspective date. He was nice. Kinda mild. Nothing special, but if I took a chance to know him better… He wasn’t one of my neighbors who I was immediately attracted to, but maybe that was a good thing.

I would take three good friends over one boyfriend any day.

“Yeah, sure,” I smiled. “Going to take me to a play?”

Kevin gasped, his usual deadpan expression not leaving his face.

“That’s a third date activity!”

I laughed.

“Then how about we do a classic dinner date?”

“Acceptable,” Kevin agreed, adapting a haughty personality, his actor training shining through. “Shall I have my carriage pick you up, my lady?”

“That would be great. My car is giving me trouble lately, and I didn’t have time to see the mechanic yet.”

We discussed the details and agreed on a time and place. The following Friday, I looked at the time on the clock on the wall, fidgeting in my pretty dress. Kevin was only a few minutes late, but it still made me nervous.

When the knock came, I jumped to my feet and swung the door open only to freeze.

“What happened to you?” I blurted out.

Kevin looked like someone who experienced all the Friday 13ths at the same time. His smart shirt was stained with something unidentifiable and the flowers in his hand (real roses this time) looked rumpled. Was that one stalk broken?

“I have been cursed today, Lisa, that’s what happened,” he sighed. “A black cat crossed my path, and I had to keep changing my route because it kept showing up in front of me. Then I tripped over a fucking white cat that ran between my legs and it made me scatter the roses all around. And if that wasn’t enough,a psycho orange cat attacked my shirt and ripped it!” he gestured at his destroyed shirt wildly.

I had to school my expression into one of commiseration even if this deluge of accidents involving cats, cats I had a feeling I knew, was hilarious. Kevin didn’t seem to see anything funny in it because he scowled and said the words that changed everything.

“God, I hate cats.”

Being wary of those animals after what happened would be understandable, but he said those words with such feeling I knew his hatred for cats wasn’t a recent development. And if anything was a red flag for me, it was hatred for cats or dogs, or any animals really. I should have known when he started talking about black cats bringing bad luck that he wasn’t a good match for me.

Now I didn’t really want to go on a date with this man and his wrong opinions.

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