What the Cat Saw

The purple hair dye situation was, technically, my sister's fault. She'd left the box on the bathroom counter, practically begging to be used. My mom's gonna lose it when she sees me, but honestly? That's future-me's problem.

Present-me had bigger issues. Like why my best friend since sixth grade, Maya, hadn't replied to my texts in three days. Three. Days. We usually Snap back and forth until our phones die. The silence was louder than anything.

My phone buzzed. Finally.

"u free?"

"ya why didn't u respond??"

"can't explain. meet me @ the park?"

Something felt off. Maya hates the park. She calls it "literally where dogs go to die." But I grabbed my hoodie anyway, pulling the hood up to hide my new purple situation.

The park was empty except for this orange cat that kept staring at me. Like, full-on judging my life choices.

"Maya?"

She was sitting on a swing, wearing sunglasses even though it was practically sunset. That's when I noticed—her hair. She'd dyed it too. Bright pink.

"Your mom's gonna kill you," I said, sitting on the swing next to hers.

"Your mom's gonna kill you too," she pointed out.

Fair.

"So what's going on? Why've you been ghosting me?"

Maya took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red, like she'd been crying. "Okay, don't freak out. But—what if I told you I've been talking to this guy online? And we were supposed to meet today? And he didn't show up?"

My stomach dropped. "Maya... tell me you didn't get catfished."

"I DON'T KNOW! That's the problem! Like, we've been talking for MONTHS. He sent me voice notes, we Facetimed—but only for like, two seconds, and it was super blurry—"

The orange cat jumped onto Maya's lap and started purring like crazy.

"Even the cat thinks you're being dumb," I said.

"Shut up. I feel stupid enough already."

"You're not stupid. You're lonely. There's a difference."

She looked at me, really looked at me. "Since when did you get all wise?"

"Since I realized purple hair wasn't gonna fix my life either."

We sat there for an hour while the cat rotated between our laps, making us both feel a little less alone. Maya showed me the messages. Yeah, def catfished. But I didn't say "I told you so." Some things don't need saying.

"Wanna come over?" I asked. "We can bleach your hair back. Probably."

Maya laughed, and it sounded like the old Maya. "Probably? That's your guarantee?"

"My cat has nine lives. Your hair can survive one bleach job."

She smiled, and I knew things were gonna be okay. Some friends ghost you. Some friends sit with you in a park while you cry over a fake guy and an orange cat judges your life choices. The second kind is worth keeping.

The cat—whose name, we learned from the tag on his collar, was Steve—seemed to agree.