Cat House

2 | Charlene

I saw the sliver of an orange tail, fuzzy and wagging in curiosity. It slid behind a dumpster, the animal it belonged to purring and hiding. I clicked my tongue atop the roof of my mouth, squatting down to eye level of the orange tabby. "Hey, stinky-butt, come here," I coaxed, trying to get the cat to come to me. Sticking my hand out, I gave it the chance to sniff my fingers. If I just gained its trust, it would be mine.

But just as its tiny face peaked around, nearly coming over to me, a voice startled both me and the cat. Slightly annoyed, I looked up at the source of the voice. I was pleasantly surprised. My eyes met a pair of bright green ones, curiosity and amusement settled within them. This guy was cute, very cute. Black hoodie, black jeans, and a black beanie. His brown hair covering part of his forehead, but it was rather cute. I liked this guy.

I stood up and looked at him more, unconsciously grabbing my necklace. It brought me comfort. He asked for my name, a sly smile on his face. I told him, along with my nickname, because Charlene's not suitable yet. "What about you? What's your name?"

He smiled wider, and I fell in love. "Derrick Lofton. Why are you in the alley?"

I rocked on the heels of my feet, letting go of my locket and holding them behind my back. "Oh, you know, just looking for cats. I collect them. Like, collect strays, and take them in." I thought back to all of my cats at home, all probably residing in the spots they've claimed their own. Cookie stays on the top shelf, only moving when needed. Albert always sat on the floor, between Alvin and Hubert III. Always. Lest I moved him myself. Then he was with me, in my hands.

His voice dragged me back to reality. "Collect cats? You mean adopt?"

"Yeah. Sure. Adopting, that's we can call it that."