What the Cat Sees

Maya's iPhone pinged with the familiar discord notification sound—group chat going off again. She stared at her lock screen where her friends were planning weekend plans without her. Again.

Her bedroom door clicked open. Barnaby—her mom's fat orange tabby—padded in and jumped onto her duvet, purring like a tiny motor. He headbutted her phone, knocking it from her hand.

"Dude, rude," she muttered, but her fingers found his ears anyway. He flopped onto his side, exposing his belly like it was nothing. Like he didn't care who saw him soft.

Maya grabbed the bottle of vitamin D supplements from her nightstand. Dr. Evans had prescribed them after her last physical—said she was deficient, probably from spending too much inside. Which was fair. Between school, homework, and scrolling through other people's highlight reels, she barely saw sunlight anymore.

She dry-swallowed one. Her phone lit up again. Someone had posted a TikTok from the party she hadn't been invited to last weekend. Maya in the background, alone, watching everyone laugh. Caption: "When the wallflower crashes the vibe 💀"

Her face burned. She'd thought she was just chilling, observing. Apparently she'd been pathetic.

Barnaby bit her finger—gently, like a reminder.

"What?" she snapped. He stared at her with unblinking yellow eyes, then stood up and walked in a slow circle before settling into a loaf position directly on her phone.

She tried to shoo him. He refused to move. Weighted like a warm, furry paperweight.

"Fine," she huffed. She lay back instead, staring at her ceiling where glow-in-the-dark stars were peeling at the edges. She'd put them up in sixth grade. Before everything got complicated.

Barnaby began vibrating against her hand, that deep resonant purr that made her ribs hum in sympathy. She closed her eyes.

Outside her window, someone laughed. Real laughter, not filtered through a screen.

Maya took a breath. She thought about vitamin D deficiency. About how she needed more light. About how Barnaby had never once made her feel like she was doing existing wrong.

She sat up, displacing the cat. Grabbed her hoodie. "I'm going for a walk," she announced to her empty room.

Barnaby stretched, unconcerned. Some things didn't need an audience to be real.