Page 7 of Three Meows

The white ball of fluff settled slowly and gave my hand a sniff. When I tried to pet him and the cat didn’t shy away, I mentally patted myself on the back. With a last look at the slightly open door to his flat, the Persian cat came to a decision. A second later I had a practical demonstration of how much of the cat was just fur as it squeezed through the gap to come meet me.

After that, luring him into my apartment was easy. Unlike Cheddar, whose favorite method of exploration was running around like a headless chicken, the white Pers investigated the room carefully and with grace. At some point I started narrating the exploration as I followed after the curious creature.

I opened the door to present my inner sanctum for the inspection. The cat hesitated and looked at me with his blue eyes, so I sketched a bow, inviting him inside.

“Here’s the bedroom, Your Fluffiness.”

The cat walked inside and gracefully jumped onto the bed.

“May I suggest this throw? It’s soft and extremely comfortable and made just for you,” I presented the fabric decorated with, yes, you guessed it, kitties, but the cat turned his nose at it. Instead, he focused his gaze on My Shame.

The problem with being an animation fanatic from my teenage years was that everyone around me had an excuse to present me with the most embarrassing gifts. My friends made it into a Tradition with a capital T to gift me animation themed merch onmy birthday. And sure, the Calcifer lamp, the Shrek boots, and various princess t-shirts were cool, but there were the other gifts I had to contend with.

“Not throwing you away was a mistake,” I said to Goku, whose face was now obscured by a cat happily sitting on it, leaving the naked pecs and abs of the Dragon Ball character painfully visible.

It was surely my imagination that the cat was laughing at me, but something in the motion of the fluffy white tail was giving me sassy vibes.

“You are right. I don’t need this pillow to hug at night,” I nodded sagely while steadily creeping closer to the bed. “Because… I have you!”

The cat was too slow to escape my clutches and was left blinking at me as I lay on the bed, contentedly wrapped around my newest squeeze toy. His Fluffiness admitted defeat with grace and nuzzled at my chin, settling himself in for the long haul.

The nap we took together was just what I needed after the long day of studying and working on my personal projects. It came to an end when there was a knock on the door.

“Hey, Lisa. Have you seen Elijah?” Chester asked.

“No. But I have seen your white cat. It’s in there—” I turned to point at the bedroom only to see the white tail disappearing through the balcony door. Huh, the cat probably sensed his feeding time approaching. “Well, he went back to yours. What’s his name? Shit, is it a boy? And why were you keeping him from me?”

“Um, Marshmallow? He is a boy. And he is… uhhh… new?” The questioning answers did not inspire confidence. “Anyway, I have to go! Thanks!” Chester spooked at my narrowed glance.

I watched as the door next to mine opened and Elijah peeked outside before Chester barreled in and the door closed behind them.

“Dude, you left the door closed from the inside!” I heard Chester exclaim before I closed my door as well with a shake of my head.

The three men were weird, but, more importantly, they were entertaining.

Chapter Seven

Afew months into my brand new, hovering father free existence (sans the mandatory calls), I felt pretty good about my life. The school work was hard but interesting and I was learning as much after the lectures as I was learning during. I cultivated both friendships and industry contacts, Chester, the social butterfly that he was, helping me with both.

“A rave?” I asked, as the red-haired man told me about his group of friends, cobbled from different years and possibly even different universities, that was planning to go to a club.

“Kinda? Close enough.” He waved an uncaring hand. “There will be some electronic music, but I’m pretty sure they play pop and rock and whatever takes their fancy as well, so it’s more like a disco than a rave. But listen, listen! The important thing is there’s gonna befluorescent paint.”

“On… walls?”

“On people!” Chester grinned wide because he knew he had me.

A few days later, it turned out that while getting all three of the cats I liked in the same place was next to impossible to do, gathering all three of my neighbors was pretty easy. Though, honestly, I expected to catch them together at their flat I frequently visited, before meeting the trio like this.

“You didn’t warn me your roommates are coming!” I dragged Chester to the side to hiss at him accusingly. “What am I supposed to do with… with all of this?”

I gestured feebly at Rowan, who wore black leather pants and a freakingmesh shirt. I could see his nipples! They were standing at attention because it was cold in the queue to the club. And don’t get me started on Elijah. He woreall white. Pure white loose pants and a white vest. All that knowing his clothes were going to get dirty with the fluorescent paint. He practically made himself into a target! A walking, sexy target. Gods, I wanted to dirty him up.

Compared to the two men, Chester looked almost unremarkable in his red jeans and a t-shirt proclaiming him a Hard Twerking Citizen. But the moment he gave me his mischievous smile I found him as hard to ignore as the other two men.

“They clean up good, eh? You’re welcome.” Chester winked at me, proving my theory he had something to do with the two other men looking like sin. “And as for what you are supposed to do with someone sexy… find me later and I can demonstrate.”

He skipped back to his companions, leaving me speechless.

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