Emily:
A few days later, my sister gives me news of an impromptu month-long trip through Europe with her jetset friends. She asks me to take care of Snuggles, an orange tabby, while she's away. It feels like my prayers are answered: I've wanted a pet since my first night in this place. Now, here he is.
Ray is standing on my doorstep, one arm weighed down by a bright pink cat carrier. She sets the cage down on the welcome mat to remove a large orange fluffball. "Take good care of him for me, sis." She presses Snuggles into my arms and he settles in easy, purring warmly against my chest.
"I will." I peck the center of his fuzzy forehead. "It'll be nice to have company. It gets weirdly cold here at night, so the fur will be a good addition."
"What, country boy hasn't warmed you up yet?"
My face burns up like a match.
"Oh my god, he totally did!" Ray taps my arm with a wry half-smile. "How was it?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh no." Her face falls. "Is it the girlfriend thing? I guess I shouldn't be encouraging you to be the other woman."
"No," I sigh. "It turns out the lady in black is his little sister."
"Really?" Ray scrunches her nose. "What's the trouble then?"
"He's being the epitome of hot and cold. One second he's all over me, nice to me, inviting me over to his little mead and guitar party. The next he's pushing me off his lap, saying he can't be in a relationship right now. Of course, he got his hands on me first before he insisted on that."
"Ugh, I hate that shit." Ray's arms fold, weight shifting to one leg. "Alright, now I'm starting to get the asshole vibes."
"It just sucks because I really like him." I glance in the direction of his cabin. "And I just feel like...he really likes me too. Well, at least his body does."
"Maybe he's still heartbroken over someone else," Ray muses. "It's happened to me before. My body was ready. My heart wasn't."
"I guess that could be it." Again, I find myself hiding aspects of Kade from Ray. Like how he said there was fucked up parts about his life that I shouldn't be involved with...fucked up parts worse than being in a gang.
"Some people are terrible communicators," she continues. "Maybe he's one of them."
"You are way too much on his side."
"I just have this unexplainable inkling you and him wouldn't be half bad together is all."
"I don't see it at this point."
"You know how Grandma was kind of psychic? I think some of it rubbed off on me. I trust it. " Ray pulls her phone out of her back jean pocket to glance at the screen. "Yikes, I need to get back on the road. Take care of yourself, okay, Em?" She kisses both me and her tabby on the cheek. "And Snuggles, of course."
"Have fun, Ray. I'm looking forward to my souvenir. Maybe one from France?" I wiggle my brows at her.
A devilish grin perks my way. "So a big wheel of stinky cheese then? Gotcha." I roll my eyes in return. "Love you, Em."
As I watch her drive away, I murmur coos of approval to Snuggles, increasingly soothed by his engine-like purr. "We'll have good cuddles together, won't we?" I smear my cheek against the crown of his head. "Stay close to me, little one."
*
I can't find Snuggles anywhere.
After a dinner of pasta made on the woodstove, topped with fresh basil from the herb garden, I had taken a quick nap. When I woke up, he was nowhere to be found. I searched my entire house top to bottom. Every still-dusty nook and cranny. A futile endeavor.
Now, as I re-enter the kitchen for a second look, I realize my mistake: a window left open, screenless, the shutters squeaking in the lukewarm breeze. I head outside, scanning the porch, the sun-bleached front yard. "Snuggles?"
Nothing. I wander into my backyard, overgrown with weeds, long grass and bramble. Making cooing noises, those obnoxious clicking sounds. No cat returns. The sun will set in an hour.
As my distress rises, I attempt to mentally comfort myself. Maybe this isn't a big deal. Cats go for little adventures all the time and usually come back, don't they? Not that I would know firsthand. My only experience with felines was our elderly Siamese my family had as a child. A city-cat. Entirely indoor since birth.
But then I remember my first night here: the wolf howling, the glow of golden eyes in the darkness.The concept of poor Snuggles getting mauled not even a day after arriving curls itself around my brain and prods incessantly.
Shit. Ray would murder me if anything happened to her cat, a pet so prized that she throws him actual birthday parties. I don't know if our friendship would ever recover.
I race to harsh conclusions: my sister might be an idiot. Why would she entrust her cat to me? Doesn't she know me at all? Clearly not. How sad for our relationship to end this way.
Should I call her? Send a Facebook message so she can freak out upon arriving in Paris?
As I mull this over, I feel an odd sucking sensation in my solar plexus. Like my body is being shifted in a specific direction. My eyes flutter closed and I slowly turn, pulled north. Lids open to face a distant wall of black forest, a dark contrast to the golden dusk surrounding me.The urge to follow that pull is insatiable. Before I know it, I'm in my driveway, staring at the beckoning trees.
Crows caw in quick succession. The wind picks up with a hiss, making my long skirt ripple at my ankles. My curiosity is overpowering, compelling my feet to move. Step by step, I get closer. Down the driveway and onto the bumpy road. My ballet flats crunching gravel before crossing the patchy grass, the dried up puddles that lead to the forest trail.
As I near the trail entrance, I get a kick in my gut. Stop. My feet root to the earth like tree trunks. Breath and pulse locked into rapid overdrive, crows circling above. A whole murder of them.
Then I spot him. Snuggles, in his kingly glory, perched smugly on a moss-encrusted boulder grazing the tree line. His eyes seem to spark with impish glee before he hops away.
Into the forest.
I feel caught in the crux. Two sides in me battling over staying or going. The stronger wins: my feet move north. My hands push away cobwebs to enter the thin forest path. The evergreen smell is so strong it's practically chemical, burning my nostrils like the Lysol my mother cleans her tiles with.The lane is jagged and ugly, drawing me further and further into the forest's clutches. When I look behind me, branches half-cover the entrance from where I came.