Milo’s eyes grow circular, and he’s quick to readjust his glasses. He shuts his ajar mouth, moves to the closet, and snags a hoodie.
“Wait,” I mumble as he stomps out of the room.
“James,” Kai says gently, squeezing my shoulder as he sits up in bed. “I know you feel bad for him, but you’re going through a much bigger deal.”
“I have my thing, and his thing.” I clutch the space on my chest over my heart. “I’m the reason for his thing. He’s hurting because of me.”
“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” Kai reassures. “You let the cat out, but you didn’t want him to run away.”
Should I tell him the truth? Tell him I have a crush on his twin brother? No, it’s more than that. I’m falling…
My breath hitches in my throat.
My heart swells like a balloon.
Oh my gosh, it’s true. I’m falling for Milo.
Kai tilts his head. “James?”
I swallow hard. The same overwhelming sickness takes over from when I thought about telling Coach the truth. I pull my legs to my chest, needing to escape this new truth bomb. I don’t want to talk to Kai, but I do want to help Milo.
I scoot out of the bed, ducking Kai’s attempts to pull me back. “I gotta do something.”
Kai sighs. “What are you doing?”
I scoop my hair into a ponytail and make my way out of the bedroom. “Don’t worry yourself.”
Twenty-Eight
Imoveintotheliving room, craning my neck into Milo’s bedroom to check if he’s still on the second floor. I hurry downstairs and make my way to the garage for a pair of sneakers. I pull my hood over my head and make my way outside. I rub my hands together, disliking the chilly outdoor temperature. As the rain tries its best to hit my face, I move over to the tree in the front yard. From there, I look up at Milo’s bedroom window.
“If I were a cat, what’s my next move after going into the tree?” I look back and forth at the tree and the window. “I’d go back to the window and scratch until I was let back in. But what do I know?”
As I scan the area, my sneakers create sloshing noises against the wet grass. I move along the side of the house, certain Alfie’s not in the front yard, or he’d be spotted by now. Plenty of family members have mentioned Alfie turning up at the back door. Kai said this isn’t the first time the cat went missing outside. I’m guessing he turned up at the back door on previous occasions.
The sloshing continues as I make my way down the side of the house. The bottom of my pants and my shoes get soaked as I inspect the fence line and the walls of the house. The Nelsons keep a well-maintained home. It’s near impossible to find a crack or hole in or under the fence.
I chew my lip, rest against the wet exterior of the house, and smack my heel against the wall. The back of my sneaker hooks to the bottom of the wall. I lower to free my heel and notice the gap below the house. The Nelsons don’t have a basement, so it’d be concrete or dirt underneath there.
I lower even further to the ground, narrowing my eyes for any signs of life. A faint whimper pricks my ear, but it’s similar to the howls and billows of the wind. As I push myself off the grass, the sound triggers me again. This time it’s much more distinct.
“Alfie?”
The whimper replies. It’s a mixture of whimpering and meowing.
“Oh my gosh, Alfie! Come here, boy!”
I squeeze myself closer to the gap, angling my head for a better look. It’s pitch black. I rummage into the pocket of my sweatpants for my phone. As I fish it out, two glowing eyes get my attention.
“Alfie! Come here. Are you stuck?”
Another muffled whimper cries out, and I’m certain Alfie’s stuck under something. The gap’s not big enough for me to fit under. I look around the area, hoping for a long stick or gardening tool nearby. Without much more thought, I scoop mounds of dirt toward me. I dig my hands into the grass, ripping it from the earth. My sleeves turn brown within minutes. As I push my way into the gap, dirt clumps to my face. With muddy hands, I set my phone under the house, shining the flashlight toward the glowing eyes. After another meowed whimper, Alfie’s silhouette moves in the light.
“Alfie! You’re okay.”
He still doesn’t stand, but I can’t tell what has him trapped. It makes sense for him to be under the house. For a cat, this probably seemed like the safest option during a thunderstorm.
With grunts that start in my abdomen, I continue to dig my way under the house. As soon as my body can squeeze through the gap, I crawl my way along the flashlight beam.
