Page 70 of Kitten

Did you end up getting that job?

My heart pounded. For some reason, I lied and said yes.

James wrote:

I’m so proud of you, I knew this would happen.

Then I understood that I’d lied because I wanted him to be proud of me. Promptly I confessed. A few minutes passed before his next message.

Not sure why you did that.

I hope you don’t feel like I’d judge you or anything for not getting the job

Like I’m not that kind of person

No not at all

My lying has got nothing to do with you

Ok that’s good to know

Though that makes me kind of sad

Because I have no integrity?

Because I like to think you still have something to do with me

There was a warmth in my chest. It was limp as a new flame, easy to snuff out. Still, it was there. I put my phone away. Shortly afterward, I fell asleep. Then Lou slid into the bed, waking me up. It was morning, it was another day.

23

A week into November, Lou sat me down. “I really don’t want to kick you out,” she said. “But I think I need my room back. Tell me you have leads.”

“Some.” I was due to visit a three-bed in Astoria that weekend, but they’d stopped responding to my messages. And though Nicolo’s proposal was tempting, I hadn’t given it serious consideration since Halloween. I wasn’t sure how Lou would take it. Sleeping in her bed was a temporary imposition, but turning the living room into a bedroom would be a permanent one. She was having a bad time at work, and everything sent her into a small rage. The most recent trigger was a pair of Nicolo’s red socks mysteriously making their way into her whites cycle.

“I’m giving you an ultimatum,” Lou said. “Not because I don’t care about you, but because I’m turning into a bitch. You have until the end of the week to figure something out.”

I agreed, then resisted the urge to message James. Instinctively, I still thought of him each time I faced a wall—insomnia, housing—and believed he could open the waythrough. But James wasn’t some magic key, he was a person. It dawned on me that I didn’t yet know how to talk to him in a way that showed I understood that.

—

In the back of adessert café in Nolita, I waited for Isabelle to arrive. I rarely went to this part of Manhattan and felt charmed by the narrow streets and ornate fire escapes. When Isabelle told me she was in the city, my body went cold, like I was back on the beach when Bruno found Silver. But now that I was reading the menu, where every dessert looked complex and enticing, I felt excited; I couldn’t wait to see her.

Her voice chirped from behind me, a bright “Hi!”

“Oh—Isabelle!” Even though I was keeping my eye on the door, I’d missed her. She’d cut her hair so it hung just below her chin. Her small ears poked prominently from her head, framed in curt curls. “Your hair, I love it.”

“Thanks. I was going for Uma Thurman inPulp Fiction.”

Isabelle’s faithful awareness of her beauty’s adjacency to major movie stars was endearing to me. We ordered a white chocolate lava cake and crispy rice ice cream. The lava cake was only okay, but the ice cream was impossible to eat slowly. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I mean, how long are you staying?”

“Hopefully for a while.” She covered her smile with her hands. “I’m leaving Holme. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’ve been staying with a friend while I look for a place.”

I put my spoon down. “What? That’s great.”

“Yeah, thanks, I’m really happy about it. And you, where are you living?”

My heart squeezed. That she thought to ask me meant she knew I wasn’t living with James. “I’m crashing with Lou. Trying to figure out something more long-term.”