Adrian Gonzalez knows the painful truth about liking someone you have no chance with-they never like you back and you're left heartbroken. Ever wonder why it's called a 'crush?'
But when the hopeless crush he has is on Parker Thompson-nonbinary scho...
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In a situation like this one—hiding in your boyfriend of, say, 30 minute’s room, accidentally destroying a lamp (thanks to his cat) and knowing fully well being discovered would lead to trouble—the Fight or Flight response was expected to kick in.
From the looks of it, the cat had already decided its best chance was sticking to the Flight aspect. It backed away from the door, fleeing to its newfound sanctuary; me.
A horrible decision really, because I just sat there, on Adrián’s bed, in the line of sight of whoever would enter. I couldn’t run—not with a bad leg—or hide, either. Again, bad leg.
So I froze.
Heart pounding at the same pace as the footsteps moved, hoping the sheen of sweat plastering my hair to my forehead made me look more dumbstruck than guilty. Which was a long shot, considering the cluster of shards and broken wood on the floor.
The doorknob turned painstakingly slow. As if expecting what it is behind Lucky Door Number 1.
Something tugged at my hand, and I turned to see the cat nestling against me, trying to seem inconspicuous as possible. I couldn’t even dwell on its fickle attempt at hiding, because the door creaked open, and a head of curls appeared behind it.
A brown eye assessed me, and the door gave way to reveal a wide nose with a bulbous tip, a feature I recognised from the photo I’d been looking at.
My heart dropped into my stomach, and I fumbled with my words as I struggled to form words to apologise. But it turned out to be unnecessary, because it was only Adrián, just as shocked to see me as I was with him. He looked so much like his mother.
“Parker, oh my God.” He locked the door behind him and started towards me, stopping short when he caught sight of the mess.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Your mom heard?”
“Yeah. I told her it was probably just her.” He gestured at the cat, who still hid behind me. If only he knew how close he was to the truth.
“And she bought it?”
“I think so.” Adrián crouched next to the broken pieces, picking them up with care. “I said I’d been napping with Jellybean here, and that I must have shut the door when I left. She gets cranky when she’s trapped, so it made sense.”
“Your cat is called... Jellybean?”
He stilled, fingers pausing an inch away from the last piece of broken glass. “Um.. yeah. It’s just a stupid name that got stuck. Her toe beans are bright red, like jellybeans, so I called her that since she never seemed to enjoy being called ‘cat’ or ‘kitty’”
“Explains the spontaneous attack she launched at me,” I commented, scooting to the edge of the bed to pick up the photo. As expected, Adrián’s evil cat met me with an accusatory gaze. “Jellybean doesn’t seem to like me much.”
