Page 57 of For the Fans
Me: Kyran… I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.
Nothing. For five more minutes on read.
Me: Please just come over. Give me five fucking minutes of your time. You owe me that.
Kyran: I don’t owe you shit.
I roll my eyes to the heavens.
Me: Fine, you don’t. But like I said, this is serious.
Kyran: I don’t care. Anything you need to say you can just text. I have no desire to see your face.
Me: God you’re obnoxious. Look it’s a sensitive subject. I don’t want to text it…
His typing bubbles pop up, then disappear. Then pop up, then disappear again. I’m impatiently tapping my foot for several more minutes by the time he finally replies.
Kyran: Still no. I’m not coming over to your fucking dorm Avi
Me: Fine, I’ll come to yours… But I don’t think you want me bringing this stuff up in front of your roommate…
Kyran: You will not set foot in my dorm.
Kyran: And what makes your roommate so chill??
Me: I don’t have a roommate. I’m by myself in TMA 446.
He reads the message, but doesn’t respond, and I’m just staring at the screen when there’s a knock on my door.
My brows zip together in confusion. Standing up slowly, I meander out of the bedroom, creeping over to the door while my chest tightens in suspense.There’s no way…
Opening it a crack, I peek through, letting out a breath as my stomach drops in disappointment that confuses the fuck out of me.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Frankie says with a smile, pushing her way inside. She holds up a bag from Shake Shack. “I brought you a gift.”
I’m about to shut the door, but Bea slinks inside behind her before I can.
“Youbothinvited yourselves over?” I grin at them, closing the door while they wander around, making themselves at home. “How sweet.”
“Actually, I came by to talk to you and bring you burgers.” Frankie tosses the bag onto the living room table. “I have no ideawhat she’s doing here. I found her rustling around in the bushes downstairs.”
Chuckling, I glance at Bea, who’s holding her coat shut around her chest, looking awfully suspicious. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Avi… I need your help.” Bea aims her wide eyes at me.I swear to God, she’s all eyes, lips, and boobs, this one.“Don’t freak out.”
My forehead lines while I watch her clutching her coat. “Freak out about what…?”
She bites her lip, slowly opening up said coat to reveal a tiny black kitten slumped in her arms.
“You were hiding that thing inside your coat the whole time??” Frankie croaks through bites of French fries.
Bea pouts, petting the thing’s small head over and over, cradling it to her chest. “I just found him outside! He’s lost, I didn’t know what to do!”
My mouth is just hanging open while I stare at her, and the little cat who seems content to just sit in her arms. Stepping over slowly, I can’t help but gravitate toward it. He’ssofreaking cute… And cards on the table, I’m a total cat lover.
I used to feed all the neighborhood strays back in Brooklyn, and I always play with our neighbor, Mrs. Adelman’s, cats in Somerville. But I haven’t had my own since my orange tiger, Bates, passed away when I was twelve.The second great tragedy of my childhood…Call it not wanting to get hurt again, but I just couldn’t find it in myself to replace him.
But this thing…He’s just so tiny and soft.
