Page 77 of Just Past Two

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Matthew woke up the next morning to a much louder mewing. He blinked groggily up at the ceiling, trying to figure out when he’d changed his alarm clock sound, until he remembered the events of the night before. Right. He was now the proud—reluctant? resigned?—owner of a five-week-old kitten with a hip deformity and otherwise perfect health. In a bit of Ghostbusters nostalgia, he’d named her Zuul. They’d arrived home at three in the morning with a lot less money, a bunch of starter kitten supplies, and a crate to keep her in until she was accustomed to the apartment. Now, apparently, Zuul had woken up and probably wanted to eat. Sure enough, when he dragged himself out of bed, she was alert and sitting in her crate by her empty food bowl making disgruntled cat noises.

This was not at all how his weekend was supposed to go. As he prepared Zuul’s food, he reminisced on what could have been: he’d been planning on sleeping a lot, gaming a lot, and not thinking about Silas. Although to be honest, those had been his plans for the entire week, and those plans hadn’t gone very well. Sure, he’d done a lot of gaming, but he’d been staying up too late to do it. Not to mention that he was thinking about Silas far too often, and the gaming was mostly to distract him from those lines of thought. He had turned down a Gigi’s shift last night, but one of the bartenders was looking for someone to switch for tonight, and he hadn’t ruled it out, even just as a way to flirt with some cute customers and take his mind off his . . . whatever was going on between him and Silas.

No, instead of his original plans, he was taking care of a kitten with mobility issues and figuring out what in the hell that was going to entail.

Zuul ate her food like a creature possessed, living up to her namesake, and Matthew couldn’t help smiling as he watched her attack the meal with vigor. So far, she’d been able to drag herself into and out of the litter box, since it was one of those low-sided ones for kittens, but there had to be something that would make it easier for her. Cat-adaptive technology, as it were.

His plan to not think about Silas was hindered by the very obvious fact that he worked on adaptive technology for humans. Maybe he could rig something up for Zuul. The vet had been clear that not every person wanted to deal with a cat whose litter box use might be problematic and who wouldn’t be able to jump and run like other cats, but Matthew wasn’t about to abandon her, especially if there might be a solution.

He thought about texting Silas, but this might be lengthy to explain via text, so he called instead. He hadn’t spoken to Silas all week, and as the phone rang, he felt an unexpected flutter of nerves. That flutter became a spasm when Silas picked up.

“Um . . . hello?”

He sounded groggy, like Matthew had woken him up, even though it was already ten and Silas didn’t seem like the kind of guy to sleep in.

“Hi. It’s Matthew.”

“I know.” Silas’s voice was still groggy, but also confused. “You put your number in my phone.”

And Silas hadn’t deleted it. Maybe that was a good sign. “Right. I, uh, need your help with something. I was wondering if you wanted to come over.”

There was a pause. “Is this a sex thing you need my help with?” Silas sounded like he was smiling now, which made Matthew relax. Sometimes he forgot that Silas could joke.

Matthew smiled back. “No, it’s not a sex thing.” He looked over at Zuul, who was pacing in her crate, dragging her legs behind her. “It’s an engineering thing.”

“Really? What kind?” Silas sounded intrigued.

“Probably better if I just show you.” Much easier to show Zuul to Silas than to try and describe what was wrong with her. “I promise, this isn’t a ruse to get into your pants. Unless you want it to be.”

Silas laughed. “Should I bring equipment?”

“Now that sounds really dirty.” Matthew leaned against the wall. Hearing Silas joking around again, it made him want to see him, and not just for sex. “No, I don’t think you need anything. I just want to talk through my ideas with you.”

“All right. I just got up. I can be over there in a little while, though.”

Matthew could hear noises in the background, like Silas was getting out of bed and finding clothing. He pictured Silas in his boxers and a T-shirt, groggy and unkempt, searching for something to wear. The mental image was endearing.

“Okay. Use the intercom button in the elevator when you get here. Call apartment 3725.”

“I’ll see you in a little while.” Silas hung up.

While waiting for Silas to arrive, Matthew showered, got dressed, ate breakfast, cleaned his apartment from a week of letting dishes and laundry pile up, and made coffee. He made enough for both of them, since Silas was obviously a coffee addict. The pot was just finishing brewing when the buzzer sounded, and he let Silas up to his floor.

Unlike last week, when he’d come straight from work and was in preppy clothes, this morning Silas was wearing an old T-shirt with the University of Florida logo on it and a pair of jeans that looked like they’d seen better days. He had a day’s growth of stubble and looked like he hadn’t slept well, but he also had a smile on his face.

“I see you decided to ignore the fact that I said you didn’t need any equipment.” Matthew indicated the laptop bag Silas was carrying over his arm.

“It’s not equipment. It’s my laptop.” Silas slipped it off his shoulder and set the bag down on the kitchen table. As soon as he did so, he sniffed the air. “Is that coffee?”

“Yeah, that’s coffee.” Matthew poured Silas a cup, smiling. “Come see what you want in it.”

Silas added milk and sugar after taking a sip.

“That bad?” Matthew teased.

Silas smiled sheepishly. “I’m just spoiled, that’s all.” He took another sip of the doctored coffee. “Like this, it’s quite good. So, what’s the engineering challenge?”