Chlorine & Cat Hair

I wasn't supposed to be the friend who flaked. That was Maya's thing. But here I was, fifteen years old, sweating through my $12 thrift store dress while clutching a bottle of prenatal vitamins—because apparently my aunt's pregnant cat needed supplements and I'd somehow become the designated cat sitter this summer.

The cat, a calico nightmare named Prince, glared at me from atop the refrigerator. I could hear my phone buzzing. It was the group chat. Everyone was discussing Tyler's pool party tonight, the one I'd been hyping myself up for three weeks. The first party of the summer. The one where I was finally gonna wear my new swimsuit and maybe actually talk to Tyler, who'd sat next to me in bio and made my stomach do actual gymnastics.

"Come on, Prince," I sighed, texting back "omw" with one hand while dangling a treat with the other. "Don't make me be that person."

The cat knocked a ceramic bowl off the fridge. It shattered. I stared at it, hot tears stinging my eyes. This was fine. Everything was fine. I'd just—I'd just clean it up and—and Prince chose that moment to bolt past me, straight for the open back door.

I spent twenty minutes chasing a cat through the neighbor's yard while wearing heels I'd planned to change out of at Tyler's house. By the time I finally cornered Prince near their above-ground pool, I was a disaster. Mascara everywhere. Hair that had seen better hours. A dignity level hovering around zero.

That's when I saw him—Tyler, sitting on the pool ladder with his golden retriever, both of them watching me.

"Is that... a cat?" he asked, like he wasn't sure.

"His name is Prince," I said, my face burning. "And he's technically a fugitive."

Tyler's dog, apparently named Burrito, bounded over to inspect Prince. The cat hissed. The dog whined. And Tyler—cute, popular, unattainable Tyler—laughed. Not mean laughing. The real kind.

"My sister's dog is terrified of cats," he said. "It's actually kind of pathetic." He paused. "You're still coming tonight, right? The party?"

"If I survive this," I said.

"Cool." He splashed water at Burrito. "Bring Prince. No, seriously. It'll be legendary."

I left with the cat, a new number in my phone, and the weird, electrifying realization that sometimes the worst moments somehow become the best ones. Also, Prince purred the whole way home. Traitor.