Friend Zoned: Sugar Rush Part 13

Mrs. Crandle opens the door, dressed in a robe with her thick c.o.ke-bottle gla.s.ses sitting on the bridge of her nose. Confusion crosses her face. "Yes, dear?"

Taking the whiteboard marker, I quickly write, 'Am I still invited to tea?'

I hold up the whiteboard and her face morphs into stunned disbelief. A surprised smile tilts her lips. "Of course! Come on in. I'll get the water boiling." She disappears down the hall. For a little woman, she's quick. I let myself in and close the door behind me. When I turn, it takes me a moment to wrap my head around what I'm seeing. My feet are glued to the spot. I'm so shocked my mouth gapes.

Three large black and white photographs hang side-by-side on the living room wall. The first is a portrait of a young woman in her twenties, sporting pin-up curls, a lithe body in a revealing but tasteful leotard, and she wears a smile so pretty I have to smile in return.

The second image is a group shot with approximately thirty people in it. I'm quickly drawn to the third image. The man in the photograph doesn't smile. Looking to be in his thirties, he scowls into the camera, looking fierce and angry. He wears a crew cut, and the muscles he flexes are bulging ridiculously. He is a tank.

"Don't let his expression fool you. He was an absolute teddy bear," Mrs. Crandle utters from behind me. I almost jump out of my skin. My heart racing, with a squeak, I lift a hand to my heaving chest. She laughs softly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

A sheepish expression crosses my face. I write, 'That's okay. I scare easily.' After another peek at the photographs, I write, 'Your husband?'

She looks up at the photo and nods. "Yes. That's my Chester." She mutters, "He wasn't just my husband though." She looks up at me, wistfully. "He was my whole world. I would've followed him anywhere." She shakes her head and chuckles. "In fact, I did."

Wiping away my previous writing, I pen with a disbelieving smile, 'You were carnies?'

Without answering, she reaches over to gently take my arm. "Come sit, dear. Tea will be ready in just a moment." As we reach the sofa, she shakes her head in confusion. "I'm sorry, I must have forgotten your name."

I shake my head. 'I don't think you heard me when I told you. My name is Helena.'

She reads quickly and smiles. "My, what a pretty name." Her little feet lead her away, and she calls out, "Tea should be done by now."

Cups rattle, cutlery clinks and finally, Mrs. Crandle returns with a teapot and teacups on a serving tray with cookies. I have to admit, the tea smells lovely, and the cookies look divine. My stomach rumbles.

Down, girl.

As I reach forward to pour, Mrs. Crandle intervenes. "I may be a dinosaur, but I can still pour tea, Helena." She ends on a wink, and I thank G.o.d I didn't make this spontaneous visit awkward.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out and check the display.

Nat: Dinner's almost ready.

c.r.a.p.

Mrs. Crandle pauses her pouring when she spots my phone. Her face falls. "Leaving so soon?"

I quickly reply to the text.

Me: I'm running late. Save a plate for me. x Then I switch off my phone and put it back into my pocket. 'Sorry about that. Not leaving. I would love some tea, please.'

Happiness replaces her expression. She pa.s.ses me a teacup and the sugar, as well as the cookies. "I'm so glad for the company. I don't have much of an excuse to entertain these days."

I sip at my tea while looking around her living room. That's when I hear it.

Meow My brow furrows as I look down at my feet. I gasp. "Oh my G.o.d!"

I reach down to pick up the little grey kitten and hold it up high. "Hi there, sweet thing!"

Mrs. Crandle chuckles. "Oh dear, how did he get out? He's a little escape artist, that one. And he shouldn't be away from his mama right now, but he always finds a way."

Holding the little guy on my lap, I write, 'He's adorable! I love him!'

Mrs. Crandle grins. "Then he's yours."

My face voids. "What?"

She must catch what I say, because she shrugs. "I can't keep any more of them. He and his brothers and sisters will likely go to a pet store in a few days' time. If you want him, he's yours."

Stunned, I look down at the sweet little kitten with green eyes.

Meow Writing so fast, I'm sure it's barely comprehensible, I scribble, 'Yes, I want him! Thank you! Thank you so much!'

She nods, a shy smile appearing on her face. "You're welcome. What are you going to name him?"

I cuddle my kitten close. 'I like Ted. But I like Woody too.'

Mrs. Crandle lifts her face in thought. "How about Tedwood?"

I say it out loud. "Tedwood. Sort of like Edward, but not." Nodding, I write, 'I like it. That's it!'

She sips her tea then nibbles at a cookie. "I have everything you need for him right here. You can take him home tonight if you like."

I smile down at my kitty. He gently bats at my chin. Oh my gosh, I love him already. He's so d.a.m.n cute. Smiling up at Mrs. Crandle, I mouth, 'Thank you.'

She returns my smile. "I hope you get as much joy out of him as I get from his mama."

I know I will. I just know it.

Chapter Fourteen.

Helena "Where are you, you little psycho?" I hiss, crouching on top of the kitchen counter, feet safely off the ground. Why did no one tell me what little jerks cats can be? We never had a cat growing up. We never even had goldfish, dammit! "Teddy?" I call out hopefully. The little worm is somewhere around here, but he's hiding well. I coax in a false calm, "Come out, honey. I'll give you a nice little treat if you just come out."

Slowly sitting on the countertop, I put one foot down on the ground in perfect silence. Thank G.o.d for socks. The other foot comes down to meet the floor. I quietly tiptoe from the counter to the doorway of my room. I peek in. There's nothing there. Where is he?

I have so many scratches on my feet and ankles. Over the last day and a half, my toes have become chew toys for my new roommate. I am not enjoying this. I thought having a kitten would be ninety percent cuddles and ten percent making cat-shenanigans-equaling making videos to post on the Internet. This has not been the case.

What's worse is Tedwood likes to hide, and then reappear when you least expect it. My heart begins to race. I swallow hard. "Teddy? Baby? Momma would really like for you to show yourself now." I start to hyperventilate, grip the doorframe, and whisper in a singsong voice, "Momma's freakin' out, dude."

Oh my G.o.d, it's morning and I am too tired to deal with this s.h.i.+t. I need a shower, stat. I find courage from somewhere deep inside of me. I straighten and roll my shoulders as I storm into my bedroom. "You know what, Ted? I need a shower, and I'm having a freaking shower. Hide all d.a.m.n day if you want to. I don't care." Opening drawers with a racket, gathering my work wear and closing the drawers with a bang, I stomp over to the bathroom, muttering, "I'm not scared of a little cat. That's all a kitten is. A little cat. Not even scared." I drag my feet into the bathroom and turn on the light.

"Motherf.u.c.ker!" I jump in shock as I'm attacked from behind. Even though I'm wearing thick socks, I still feel his needle-sharp teeth in my ankle and his claws firmly wrapped around my foot. "Arrrrgggh! Get off me you psychotic feline freak!" I shriek.

With my kitten still attached to my foot, I lift it high and commence project shake it off. I shake gently at first, but he's holding on tight, his beady eyes all-pupil right now. That can't be good.

I shake harder and harder 'til I wobble on the spot. I lose my balance. I'm falling backward. My back hits the bathroom sink and I feel the breath leave my body in a whoosh. Throbbing pain blooms from my middle as I land onto the tiled floor with a bounce.

s.h.i.+t. That hurt! Lying on my bathroom floor with a kitten attached to my foot by its teeth and claws, I burst into tears. "Jesus C, I sure as s.h.i.+t was wrong about you."

As if feeling my pain, Tedwood appears by my face. If a cat could look concerned, he would. Still crying, I sniffle, "You're a bad kitty." He licks my nose, as if taunting me. Slamming my balled fists on the hard tiles, I lift my face and wail, "Oh G.o.d, I f.u.c.king hate you."

He climbs on top of me and sits on my chest.

Meow My body shakes in silent sobs. "Why are you doing this to me? I just wanted to give you a nice home. And you looked cute, like a normal cat that does normal cat things. I didn't know you were mental." I look up at him and plead, "Please stop trying to kill me!"

Over the last twelve hours, Tedwood has quote accidentally unquote knocked over a candle and set part of my bed on fire, chewed open live wires, which I have almost touched with my bare hands, and has hidden in every spot possible, attacking me whenever I least expect it. I have a theory. Don't quote me on it, but...

I think my cat is the devil.

I'm not an expert on the matter, and I will consult with a veterinarian, but I don't think it's normal for a cat to try to a.s.sa.s.sinate its owner. Repeatedly. I close my eyes and cry as I wait for my back to stop aching, but it's futile. It'll be aching all day. It's bruised. I know it. A little rough tongue licks my nose. I push him away gently. "Dude, stop licking my boogers."

He purrs and rubs his head against my chin. I still and ask hopefully, "So, we're friends now? No more funny business, right?" He settles in the crevice between my neck and chin, purring all the while, and I sigh in relief. "Thank you, Lord." Okay. If he's cute like this most of the time, I won't have to find a new home for him.

Reaching up, I pat his little back. His purr deepens. I lie back, savoring the sweet-kitty side of Tedwood I know won't last. "This is the calm before the storm, isn't it?" I ask him. His back arches and he hisses in response.

Yep. That's what I thought.

Helena As I walk down the block to work, I call Nat. She answers on the first ring. "Sup, dawg?"

Sounding more like a junkie than intended, I whine, "I need you to hook me up. I need a fix, and I need it soon."

Silence, then, "And what will you do for me?"

I think hard. I shrug, even though she can't see it. "I don't know. I'll cook for you."

She scoffs. "b.i.t.c.h, please. I cook better than you do."

d.a.m.n. She doesn't lie. I'm getting desperate. I all but shout into the cell, "I'll do anything! What do you want?"

She grumbles into the phone and I know she's thinking. After a moment's thought, she answers, "Clean my place."

I blink. Is she f.u.c.king serious? I am n.o.body's maid! I respond louder than expected, "f.u.c.k you, b.i.t.c.h!" The man walking next to me glares at me. I cover the bottom-half of the cell and mutter, "Oh, don't worry. It's just my sister." I didn't realize it was possible, but he actually looks more disgusted as he walks away. Offended at his misplaced revulsion, I call out to him, "Well, f.u.c.k you too!"

Nat chuckles. "Ah, New York." Then she bursts into song, "It's a h.e.l.l of a towwwwwnnnn!"

I can't help but laugh with her. "I probably shouldn't have done that."

"Meh. He'll get over it." She allows a moment's pause before trying again. "So you cleaning my place, or what?"

I sneer. "h.e.l.l to the no. I've heard you and Ash in action. No way I'm cleaning up after that. I'd require a hazmat kit!"

She sniffs. "You act like you've never come into contact with j.i.z.z before. Since when are you a prude?"

Since college.

I laugh humorlessly. "I am not a prude. Never was."

She returns with, "When's the last time you got laid?"

July 4th, 2010. It was a Sunday. The weather was superb; the sun shone all day long. "I don't know the exact date!"

"If you're talking the date, it was longer than a year ago."

My nose bunches. "You're way off."

She lets out a sound of exasperation. "Okay, whatever, you don't have to clean the whole place, just the bathroom."

"Yeah, I'm hanging up now."

My finger is just about to hit the end b.u.t.ton, when she sighs. "Fine. You get a free pa.s.s. This time. I'll send you the details."

Happiness fills me, warming me. I smile brightly. "You're amazing. A G.o.ddess. I love you like a siste-"

Beep. I check the display. And scowl. b.i.t.c.h hung up on me. My phone beeps. It's a text from Nat. I almost squeal in delight. It's the address to Icing on the Cake Bakery, and it isn't far from my work. Using the internet map on my phone, I can see it's four blocks away from me. And five blocks in the opposite direction is Safira and The White Rabbit. Not exactly around the corner, but not far either.

I need a car. As soon as I make some money, that's the first thing on my to-buy list. Just as I approach the block my work is on, I shoot out a quick text.

Me: I hate you.

A few seconds pa.s.s before I get a reply.

Nina: Hate you more, t.u.r.d. x I walk into work smiling, knowing today will be a good day.

Helena James leads me into a large room filled with workout equipment. He waves out a hand. "You've probably seen most of this stuff before, but if you see anything unfamiliar, let me know and we'll go over what it is and how it's used."

After a quick scan of the equipment, I shake my head. "I've used it all before, but if I see anything that looks new to me, I'll tell ya."

He claps his hands together and smiles. "Great! This is great. You're the easiest person I've had to train. I feel like it should be harder than this, but you're making it too easy for me."

I'm mock an apologetic, "Sorry."

Laughing, he shakes his head at me. "I've never met a small girl with so much att.i.tude before."

I walk over to him and playfully push him away. "It's not att.i.tude. It's s.p.u.n.k."

He nods in agreement. "Yeah. Your pep."

I laugh at his choice of word. "You could even say I have moxie."