Chapter Text
I have two types of mornings.
The first type is the good mornings. They’re the mornings that I wake up inspired and clear-headed, knowing exactly what kind of game we’d be playing that day. I don’t know if I’m sleeping in a good position in the nights leading to those mornings or what—all I know is that somehow, in some way, the stars align and I’m full of ideas and a clear plan of just how my friends and I will be spending our day.
Obviously, these are my favorite days!
Of course, my friends often veer my plans way off course, and by “often” I mean “pretty much always”…
But this particular day was the bad type of morning. The morning where I woke up and ate breakfast and brushed my teeth and even swept my floor and still had no ideas for the day’s activities spring to my mind.
I’ve been having these days more and more often. I suppose by now I’ve already tried out most of the fun games, making my pool of new games to try shrink smaller and smaller.
Sometimes on days like these I just let my friends decide what we’ll do. I’m trying to get away from that, though, because things tend to go worse than the times when I decide, regardless of whether or not my plan is followed (and it’s usually not). If I didn’t come up with anything, they would and… I shuddered. No. I couldn’t let that happen.
I flopped down on the floor, cross-legged, and thought long and hard, racking my brain for something, anything. And I was having absolutely no luck. Perhaps it was time to try out some repeat performances. We could play a game we’d already played before. But as I pondered that, I remembered how they had turned out the first time, and could not convince myself that the outcome would be any different if we tried them again.
Okay, so no repeats. I had to come up with something new. And sitting on the floor and moping wasn’t going to achieve that. If inspiration wasn’t going to find me, then I was going to find inspiration myself.
I stood up and moved towards my bookshelf, scanning all the novels I had collected over the years. I’d only had the time to read some of them, unfortunately, but that’s not so bad, I suppose. It gives me a feeling of excitement every time I see all those stories I have yet to encounter, looking forward to getting to experience all those new stories for the first time. And who knows, maybe one of the books would give me the perfect idea for today’s game!
I selected a book at random and pulled it from the shelf, turning it open near the middle. Judging by the portable size and flimsiness of the paperback covering, it appeared to be a mass-produced chick-lit book for teenage girls. I tensed a bit. Why would I have a book like this on my shelf? Once I got over my initial surprise, I started reading.
--“and I’m just giving up on dating altogether!”
“Aw, come on, Nicole, don’t be that way. Maybe you should try this matchmaking service. My mom swore she’d never date anyone ever again after divorcing my dad but this matchmaker found a guy that she just can’t get enough of!”
“Suzanne! Are you crazy? I don’t need anyone’s help in finding a date! Besides, my heart still belongs to Paul…”
“Why not let someone help you who’s trained to do so? And besides, if you’re really meant to be with Paul, the matchmaker should match you up with him anyway!”
As I read the passage, I could feel a smile creep across my face, growing wider and wider. Now I remembered why I had this book!
It may not seem like it, because I try to keep this part of me under wraps, but deep down I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic. I can’t think of any better feeling than knowing you’ve found that special someone who you adore and want to spend the rest of your life with. It makes my heart soar! Of course, I can only imagine it… I have yet to find that special someone… in fact, I doubt I ever will…
But! But the next best thing after finding your own romance is helping the people you care about find their romance. And I could do that! I could play matchmaker today!
I closed the book and put it back on the shelf with eager excitement. I couldn’t wait to help my friends through the guise of a game! With the assistance of me, Kaeloo the matchmaker, they were going to find everlasting happiness! …Oh, wait, Olaf was already married, so he was out. I would have never believed that an ice cube would make an ideal partner, but Olaf and Olga seemed very happy together, so I was content to assume that love works in mysterious ways sometimes. Come to think of it, both Quack Quack and Eugly were out, too, since they’d already found each other. And what a perfect couple they were, too! I’d have to leave Stumpy out of this game as well, since he had his Ursula. I’ll admit I had my doubts about her very existence at first, but after finally meeting her in person I can see why Stumpy’s so enamored with her.
…Gee, come to think of it, it seems like most of my friends had found partners without needing any help at all.
Discouraged, I pressed my chin into my palms, no longer feeling the smile across my face. So much for that idea.
Well, wait, hold on. That wasn’t everyone. I still had two other friends in Smileyland who were otherwise unattached—Pretty and Mr. Cat. Perhaps I could help match the two of them up.
The idea made me feel a bit uneasy, although I wasn’t sure why. On the surface they seemed to be a good match. They have similar personalities and both love attention. Perhaps my unease came from knowing that there had already been plenty of attempts on Pretty’s part to bring the two of them together, all of them unsuccessful. If they were meant to be, surely they would be by now, right?
But then again, on the other hand, maybe Pretty just needed some help. Some help from a qualified and enthusiastic matchmaker who had an eye for romantic displays of affection. Someone like me.
I smiled again. It looked like my idea was going to pan out after all.
…
Apparently my entrances need work.
“YEEOOOOW!” Pretty screeched the instant I popped up behind her, greeting her for the day. Then she threw her cell phone at my head.
Not the greatest response to a friendly, cordial greeting.
I rubbed at my forehead, taking a deep breath to keep myself calm. “I’ll ignore that.” It actually was pretty easy to keep my cool at the moment, since I was still excited over my plan for the day.
“What are you doing?!” Pretty was still screeching at me. “You ruined my selfie! Why are you dressed like a homeless woman?”
Okay, now it wasn’t quite as easy. I’d spent a lot of time selecting the perfect matchmaker costume for today. Up until then, I’d been pretty proud of my final clothing choice.
“I’m not a homeless woman, Pretty!” I said, forcing myself to smile. “I’m dressed up for our game today! It’s—“
“I’m not playing.”
“But you have to! I want to—“
“I refuse to get dragged into your half-baked fashion scheme! I have much better things to do.”
“It’s not fashion! It’s—“
“LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“IT’S MATCHMAKING!” I could hear my voice drop a few octaves, and I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself before continuing. “We’re playing matchmaker. It was going to be a game for everyone, until I remembered that Stumpy and Quack Quack and Eugly and Olaf all already found their matches…”
Pretty still didn’t look pleased. “Oh, and you think that I’m so hopelessly inept at dating that I need your help? Who are you even planning to match me with, anyway, a sheep?!”
“No, of course not! I plan to match you and Mr. Cat!”
She stopped, her mouth hanging open a little bit, as if I’d just suggested a rock. Or a rock star.
“Really?” she finally said.
I inhaled deeply, trying to keep my patience. “Yes, really.” What was with her, anyway? Mr. Cat was the obvious choice, and she clearly liked him a lot. Why was she acting so surprised? “You’re both the only single people left in Smileyland, after all.”
“The only single people in Smileyland? But what about—“ Pretty abruptly shook her head, not finishing her thought. “Never mind. Alright, Kaeloo, I’m in. So what’s your plan? Do you have some high-quality aphrodisiacs or love potions at your disposal? Hypnosis?”
“No!” I cried, feeling a bit appalled. “We are going to use legitimate means! Pleasant conversations, selfless acts, gifts and tokens of affection—“
“I’ve already tried all of that,” Pretty interrupted me disdainfully, examining her nails, “and none of it worked. We need something more supernatural.”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” I laughed. “I’m aware that Mr. Cat is a tough nut to crack, but with perseverance, patience, and a good attitude, I’m confident that we’ll be able to win him over for you without the use of any morally questionable means! Just let the master matchmaker work her magic, and you won’t be disappointed!”
“Master matchmaker?” Pretty raised an eyebrow at me. “And how many couples have you paired up before now?”
“Uh, well… actually, you’re my first.”
“Oh, I’m about to burst with how confident I am.”
…
“So the process is simple, really.” We were in front of a mirror and I was tousling Pretty’s ears, trying to give her that attractive unkempt yet still dignified look. Actually, I suppose I should have let Pretty handle this part; she’s far more fashioned-minded than me. And besides, I don’t even have ears—how am I supposed to know what to do with them? “You just approach him with a friendly smile, ask him how he’s doing, and really listen to his answer. Show that you’re interested in what he has to say! And then—“
“I’m telling you, I’ve done all this before!” Pretty screeched at me, still not sounding happy at all. “And would you stop messing with my ears?!” She pushed my hands away from her head.
I nearly lost my balance. “Being polite helps too,” I muttered.
“Yes, being polite—and smiling a lot, and flirtatiously leaning towards him, and batting your eyelids, and if he still isn’t talking and all else fails, just outright asking him what he’d like to do.”
I was surprised. This was pretty much word for word from my list. “How did you—“
“You got your list from the internet, right? Sounds like it was the same one I got. And it doesn’t work.”
“But it has to work! This was the top result when I typed in ‘how to get a boy to like you’!”
“Well, it doesn’t work. At least not on Mr. Cat.”
I considered this. It was discouraging, but not surprising, really. Mr. Cat did seem to have some odd tastes. A list compiled to grab the attention of just any random boy was probably not going to apply to someone like him. “I suppose not. Someone like Mr. Cat will require a more specialized plan.”
“That’s for sure. And you should—“ She paused, her face bunched up in a weird sort of grimace, before scowling again and pointing at me aggressively. “Ignore stuff on the internet. If—purely hypothetically—you were going to try to win the affections of Mr. Cat, what would you do?”
“Well, I—“
“PURELY HYPOTHETICALLY!”
I paused, taking another deep, calming breath. Patience, unfortunately, is not one of my virtues. And Pretty was really starting to annoy me. I don’t like being interrupted. If she kept this up, she was going to make me angry, and… well. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.
“Stop interrupting me,” I said through clenched teeth, “and I’ll tell you. And yes, purely hypothetically.”
She crossed her arms over her chest a bit impatiently, but seemed to finally be letting me speak.
“Well,” I said. Truth be told, I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. What would I do if I was trying to win over Mr. Cat’s affections? It wasn’t really anything I’d thought of before. I mean, if an attraction was going to happen, it would just happen on its own, right?
…Which made my role as matchmaker completely pointless, and I couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t have a game to play if that was the case!
“Well… if Mr. Cat is the opposite of the average boy, then we have to do the opposite of everything this list suggests. He seems to react in ways that don’t make sense, after all—so it stands to reason that everything that should win over someone’s affections would have the opposite effect on him. And thus, everything that would turn someone away will win him over in an instant!”
“I… I hadn’t thought of that before,” Pretty admitted. “That’s actually a really smart idea.”
I could feel myself scowling a bit. She didn’t have to act so surprised about that.
“So,” I said, trying to move past her approval that was still somehow mocking of me, “I think the best course of action for you is to absolutely ignore him. But make sure he knows you’re ignoring him. So ignore him in an obvious fashion.”
“How do I do that?”
“Just walk up to him and tell him you’re ignoring him—and then do it! It’ll drive him nuts. He’ll be on you like stink on a skunk for sure.”
“Are you calling me a skunk?!” Pretty shrieked.
I quickly shook my head. “No, it’s just an expression! Substitute any other simile you want! Either way, by the end of the day, Mr. Cat will be all over you, I guarantee it.”
Pretty still looked a bit unsure. “You’re sure this is what you would do? Purely hypothetically and all… but this is how you would get him to pursue you?”
Her continual insistence on my own hypothetical actions was starting to get truly bizarre. Then again, I reasoned, it could just be that she trusted my judgment. That if it were something I would do, then she would do it too. That she just wanted to make absolutely sure that this is the path I myself would choose.
“Yes,” I said. “Absolutely. This is what I’d do.”
“Alright,” she said. “Let ‘Operation Pointedly Ignore Mr. Cat’ begin.”
…
As Pretty strolled up to Mr. Cat, I remained hidden as much as I could, peeking out at the scene from behind a tree. I of course wanted to make sure that my plan would work, not only for the purpose of joining together a happy couple, but also just to prove that I was, in fact, right. Since Pretty hadn’t seemed wholly convinced of that at first.
“Mr. Cat,” Pretty announced dramatically.
Mr. Cat’s nose was buried in a newspaper, as usual. “Go away,” he snapped, not even lowering the paper to look at her.
“I just wanted to tell you that I won’t be talking to you at all the rest of the day. In fact, I won’t even be looking at you. So there.” She snorted haughtily and turned away from him.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.” Mr. Cat still didn’t look at her.
“Good, because I’m ignoring you. I’m totally ignoring you. You won’t be able to ignore how much I’m ignoring you!”
“For crying out loud!” Mr. Cat finally lowered the paper, but he didn’t look charmed, or even the slightest bit swayed. He looked grumpy and irritated, and he sounded downright enraged. “Don’t you even know what the word ‘ignore’ means? Go ignore me somewhere else!”
“Fine. And you’ll see, I’m the master of ignoring.” Pretty took a few steps away from him and pointedly turned her back, her nose up in the air.
This encounter hadn’t started off as I’d hoped, but I was feeling more relieved now that Pretty was finally doing what she was supposed to be doing. I could feel myself grin as I gave her a thumbs-up, that is until I remembered that I was hidden and she wasn’t even looking my direction, let alone able to see me. I turned my attention back to the other participant in this exercise. Mr. Cat was back to his paper, not looking back at Pretty. I knew it would be awhile. We’d just have to wait a little bit.
A little longer…
…a little longer…
…goodness, Mr. Cat certainly was taking his time, wasn’t he?
“MR. CAT!” Pretty suddenly screeched, causing me to jump a good foot off the ground. “Pay attention to me ignoring you!”
“I’ll pay lots of attention if you go somewhere where I can’t see or hear you.”
“I’m not falling for that! I can’t keep an eye on you and make sure you’re pining away for me if I’m not here!”
“I guess you’re too smart for me.” Mr. Cat actually stood up, turned his chair around ninety degrees, and plopped back down in it, his back towards Pretty. He opened the newspaper back up and continued to read it as though nothing had happened.
“No you don’t! You are not going to ignore me ignoring you!”
This was turning into a disaster. And when my plans turn into disasters, I get… frustrated.
“STOP! Stop, both of you!” I shrieked, emerging from my hiding place and running towards them. I could already feel my face flush with anger, although fortunately I was able to focus on the need to redirect these hopeless would-be lovebirds enough to keep it in check, for now. My presence was enough to pull Mr. Cat’s attention away from his paper again—he looked genuinely surprised (and a little bit confused) to see me here.
Pretty, on the other hand, looked even more annoyed than Mr. Cat had made her. “What are you doing?!” She scowled at me, her words hissing out of her mouth as though she were a thoroughly ticked-off snake. “I had everything under control!”
“You absolutely did not! You were doing everything wrong!”
“Well maybe it was just because my advice was wrong!”
“It was good advice, and it might have worked if you’d done it right!”
“Excuse me,” Mr. Cat interrupted, with one eyebrow raised in confusion but the other burrowed into his brow with the deepest irritation imaginable, “I don’t mean to interrupt this little progress report, but seeing as I’m apparently a player in this little charade as well, do you mind letting me know what’s going on?”
His overly-formal tone came across as condescending and snarky, and I was not in the mood. “I will deal with you later, Mr. Cat,” I said, pointing at him with an action that felt far more aggressive and forceful than I’d intended. Then again… “You could stand to be a little more receptive to certain social cues, you know!”
That erased the irritation from his face, at least. Now he just looked confused.
“You’re one to talk about social cues,” Pretty snapped at me. Whereas Mr. Cat’s annoyance seemed to have dissipated, it seemed like Pretty had gone in the opposite direction—she looked absolutely livid. “I must be the biggest dunce in the universe to take dating advice from you.”
“I’m a qualified matchmaker,” I insisted, my limbs trembling with rage. “I know what I’m doing—“
“What a load of bull! You’re probably the least qualified person in Smileyland to go around trying to hook people up. You wouldn’t know sparks or compatibility or romance even if they smacked you right in the face!”
“I know what I’m doing…” My voice had grown small, and suddenly I didn’t feel so angry anymore. My anger had been replaced by humiliation and shame. Honestly, I’d rather be angry. “I’ve read… books…”
And that was it. That was the extent of my knowledge. She was right; I was probably the last person who should be matchmaking anyone. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t know romance if it smacked me in the face. It was more that I knew full well that romance would never smack me in the face. Even though Pretty and Mr. Cat were both single, at least they’d been the object of affection before. I didn’t even have that going for me. Not legitimately, anyway.
“Oh, books, wow! What a fount of knowledge!” Pretty snorted. “Everyone’s read books. That doesn’t give you some all-encompassing wisdom that the rest of us plebeians lack. But that didn’t matter to you, did it? This is all just some stupid game to you anyway. Listen, when I do get with Mr. Cat, it will be entirely without any assistance from you. I’m not going to play into your ego trip. When he’s mine, I don’t want you patting yourself on the back for a job well done. I want you to be upset.”
She didn’t have to wait. I was upset right then and there.
When I transform, it feels to me that it’s a longer process than it actually is. I don’t know how long it actually takes, of course. Maybe it really does take as long as it feels to me. But everything always seems the same before and after, even when it shouldn’t. Like when my friends, who should know better, are still there when I’ve completed the transformation into monster. And usually, seeing them there just makes me even angrier than I already was.
And the pain… oh, the pain. I feel everything when I transform. I feel my muscles balloon and my bones lengthen and my skin expand more than it probably should. And the process is so drawn out—or at least it feels that way—that the pain is just that more intense.
Which does nothing to help my anger, of course. The anger that was already high enough to get me to transform in the first place.
“KAELOO QUALIFIED TO HELP! KAELOO GOOD MATCHMAKER!”
When I transform into that… creature… I seem to lose all regard for personal pronouns or proper verb conjugation.
“You suck at it,” Pretty snapped. “Just like you suck at everything else.”
One thing I do not suck at is causing bodily harm to people who have angered me. Unfortunately. I hate that I do it, but when I’m in my angered form I have a lot of trouble controlling my actions. My anger just takes over. And in this instance, my anger made me yank Pretty off the ground and throw her through the air like a javelin.
“YOU FREAK!” she yelled as she soared out of sight.
I only stood there, watching her disappear towards the horizon, not wanting to see her anymore yet still wanting to make sure I’d made her suffer.
Dear god am I a horrible person.
“Ahem.”
I turned around suddenly, Mr. Cat’s interjection surprising me enough to dissipate some of my anger. It was a rather strange sensation, because probably nine times out of ten, if I’ve grown angry enough to transform, Mr. Cat is the reason why. Right now, though, he was little more than a bystander to the catalyst that had pushed me over the edge. Involved, but not directly. I wasn’t really angry at him, and that was honestly a very strange thing to realize.
“So, given the information I’ve gleaned, you were trying to play matchmaker between me and the rabbit?” he continued.
I just stared at him, maybe grunting a little, trying to calm myself as best I could. Pretty was the catalyst. And I’d taken care of her. Deep breath in, deep breath out…
I finally felt the relief of the feeling of almost collapsing into myself, compacting and shrinking and morphing back into my true self. I keep telling myself that, you know. If I let myself even start to think that maybe the other one is my true self I hyperventilate.
And then I fell forward a bit. Just because I’ve grown used to the pain from transforming doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
“It should have worked,” I gasped out, already mentally doing everything I’d trained myself to do to push the pain away. “If she hadn’t been so obvious… and if you hadn’t been so cold-hearted!”
“Excuse me?” Mr. Cat asked again, crossing his arms and regarding me with more than a touch of disbelief.
“Nearly everything in Smileyland is perfect!” I insisted, getting right up in his face and pointing accusingly at him before I even realized just what I was doing. “Quack Quack and Eugly are happy together, and so are Stumpy and Ursula, and so are Olaf and Olga—and that leaves just two single people left, you and Pretty! Without the two of you together there is a severe imbalance. I was just trying to fix the imbalance. But you—you wouldn’t even try to cooperate!”
“What the hell?” Mr. Cat spluttered, looking confused enough that his coarse language didn’t quite reach me at first. “Only two single people? What about you?”
“What about me? Well, I—“ And I faltered. On the one hand I felt rather silly for completely forgetting about myself—and belatedly, I realized that Pretty had been about to point this fact out to me too, before electing to not bring it up to me, for whatever reason. But on the other hand, I knew exactly why I hadn’t even thought to include myself in the list of Smileyland’s single and available citizens. I was weird and horrible and unlovable, after all. I was always going to be single. But I knew saying it aloud would just come across like some desperate cry for attention, as if I was just trying to garner Mr. Cat’s sympathy and/or pity. Not that I expected him to pity me, of course. He’d probably just laugh at me. Which would be even worse.
“—I could never date someone if any of my friends were still single. I’d feel horrible about it. I could never pursue something that was denied to my friends!” And this was also true. Even if I thought I had even the slightest chance of finding romance, I wouldn’t even think of pursuing it until I was satisfied that my friends had found everlasting love first. No wonder I hadn’t even thought of myself when coming up with this matchmaking game. Any way you sliced it, I was going to be single for a long time… probably forever.
Mr. Cat still looked shocked, not even all that mad anymore. He stared at me for a few full seconds, his twitching left eyelid the only part of him still moving. Just as I was about to ask him if he was alright, he suddenly slumped down, his expression changing back into his usual scowl. “Well, doesn’t that take the cake,” he muttered.
I folded my arms across my chest, feeling a bit annoyed at his reaction. “If that bothers you that much, Mr. Cat, then you should go date Pretty, because I’ll never look for someone else until the two of you have found everlasting love and happiness! At the very least, you should let yourself be more open to the idea!”
“Ahaha… no. Not in a million years.” He gave me a contemptuous snort, and I could feel my cheeks flush with anger again, in that way only he could ignite. But instead of pressing the issue like he normally would, he simply started to walk past me, without looking back.
“Can’t you at least try?” I pleaded.
This made him stop and pointedly look back at me. His expression was still annoyed, yet a little softer, somehow. Almost… sad. “I’m swearing off romance. When the only person I’ve ever wanted tells me that she won’t even consider a relationship until everyone else is in one first, well, my hands are tied, aren’t they?”
This was unexpected. “What? Who said that? Because that’s just how I feel!” I felt anxious, yet at the same time a bit excited. Whoever this mystery person was that Mr. Cat was interested in seemed to have this in common with me, and, well… with all of my quirks, knowing that there was someone out there who actually thought like me was such a relief that I couldn’t stop myself from nearly begging him. “Who is this person, Mr. Cat? They think like I do, and I—I have so much trouble being understood, I need to know who it is so that I can maybe find someone who understands me and who I understand—sometimes I feel like I don’t understand anyone—“
“No kidding.” Mr. Cat rolled his eyes at me before turning around again and walking off.
“Please, Mr. Cat!” I cried after him. “I need to know!” Because I couldn’t come up with any possible suspects. The population of Smileyland wasn’t very big, after all. It couldn’t be any of my friends who were in relationships already. It couldn’t be Pretty, because she was pretty forthcoming about her desire to be with Mr. Cat above all else. Mr. Cat obviously wasn’t talking about himself. And there was no one else left in Smileyland. Besides me, of course.
And then it hit me.
I stumbled backwards, feeling like the air was knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe, all the blood rushed to my head, and I completely lost my sense of balance. I had known going into mission “hook up Pretty and Mr. Cat” that there was some obstacle in the way that had prevented the union from happening before, but I had never realized—even considered—that the obstacle was me.
“Mr. Cat!” I gasped out with what little air I had left. “I—I understand now.”
Somehow, he heard me. He stopped again and turned to look at me, the annoyance mostly gone from his expression, leaving just the soft, melancholy one in its place.
“If you and Pretty got together,” I continued quickly, pushing out the words as fast as I could, “then you wouldn’t be happy. But—but if you and I got together, then Pretty wouldn’t be happy. And if nothing changes, then…”
“Then nobody’s happy,” Mr. Cat finished for me.
There it was—the stark, uncomfortable truth. I nodded.
“So what are you going to do?” he asked me.
I opened my mouth to answer, but only a squeak came out. The truth was that I didn’t know. I didn’t have even the slightest clue. Before now, before this… revelation… I’d always been able to pinpoint the solution that would be the best for everyone. But in this instance, I couldn’t see it. Every possible solution ended up with someone not only disappointed, but broken-hearted. I couldn’t abide that. And yet I had no idea how to repair this without someone left on the sidelines.
“I know what you’re going to do,” Mr. Cat said, bluntly. The softness in his eyes had hardened into this sort of bitter disappointment that pierced my very soul. “You’re going to just ignore it. Because why would you let yourself feel any discomfort on my account?”
“That’s not true. It’s the worst feeling in the world knowing that you’re not happy. And I’ll—“
“Oh, bullshit!” Mr. Cat snapped at me, his interjection cutting me down to silence. “You’ve never given a shit about my happiness.”
“That’s not true!” I repeated, hearing the desperate pleading in my voice. “I want you to be happy more than anything!“
“Then why is it that when there’s a choice to be made, I’m always the one who gets the short end of the stick?”
I stuttered, not having a good answer for him. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking ab—“
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Mr. Cat took a step forward, pointing a finger at me, the anger in his eyes not enough to hide the hurt and betrayal he was obviously feeling. “If you have to choose between someone else’s happiness and my happiness, I lose out every. Single. Time. You don’t even care.”
“I do care, I just…” My voice faltered. I knew there was some truth to what he was saying, but it wasn’t for the reasons that he thought. “I… I just never thought I had to worry about you,” I finally finished in a small voice. “You always seem so in control…. I just assumed you could take care of yourself.”
“And no one else can?”
“Well… no. Not like you.”
“Well, just my luck,” he muttered, looking away from me again. “I’m too mature to ever be happy. Yeah, that’s about the size of it, isn’t it?” And he started walking away again.
“Wait, Mr. Cat, please!” I begged him. “I don’t want it to be that way this time! Just tell me what I can do to help!”
That made him spin around with an angry glare again. “You know exactly what you can do, but you won’t do it.”
My lip quivered, but no sound came out. Because he was right. I wouldn’t. Not with Pretty in the picture and her feelings to consider. I couldn’t do something like that to one of my friends.
And Mr. Cat was right about another thing, too… he was going to get the losing hand once again. Like he always did.
For the third time, he turned back around and sulked off, and this time I had nothing left to say to him to try to bring him back. All I could do was watch him leave, trying and failing to come up with something, anything to prove wrong what he’d just said.
And I couldn’t.