The Party Crash Protocol

Marcus stood by the basement wall, solo cup sweating in his hand like his palms. This was it—his first real high school party. Kids from Mr. Henderson's English class were scattered across the room, and somewhere in the crowd was Jasmine, who'd somehow looked at him in fourth period yesterday.

"You good, my boy?" Ty appeared beside him, grinning. Ty had been Marcus's dog since sixth grade, back when Marcus had moved here with nothing but weird clothes and a stutter. Ty was the one who'd made him normal-ish.

"I feel like I'm about to throw up," Marcus admitted. "This is not my vibe."

"That's the anxiety talking." Ty clapped his shoulder. "You're overthinking it. Just be chill."

Easier said than done. Across the room, Jason was holding court, bragging about his supposed hookup with some college girl. Complete bull—everyone knew Jason hadn't left his basement since Fortnite dropped. But people were nodding like he was spitting facts.

That's when Marcus saw it: a cat curled up on the washing machine behind the dryer, watching everything with those judgment yellow eyes. A real cat, at a party. It was somehow the most normal thing here.

"Yo, is that a cat?" Marcus pointed.

Ty frowned. "Yeah, that's Mrs. G's cat. It's always hiding somewhere."

Suddenly, someone bumped into the table next to the washer. The cat shot up, hissing, and bolted—straight into Jason's legs. Jason stumbled, his solo cup flying. Red punch splattered across his white Supreme shirt.

The room went silent. Then exploded laughing.

Marcus and Ty were cracking up too. For the first time all night, Marcus actually felt it—the looseness in his chest, the way the tension broke. Jasmine was laughing too, looking over at them.

"That cat just did me a favor," Ty wheezed.

Marcus nodded, finally breathing. Yeah, maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.