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2
Sam
Ilet out a small sigh as I scroll through my phone for the umpteenth time in the last couple of hours. It’s almost dead and yet I’m so lazy that I can’t even be bothered to get up from the couch to find my charger. Maybe once it dies, I’ll finally be motivated to start working on the crap ton of assignments that are all due before the week is out. Or maybe I’ll just slump down and hope that the couch swallows me whole instead. Yeah, that sounds more enjoyable.
I’m just so low on energy, not to mention still bummed out and annoyed because of Randy. I just can’t stop thinking about the firefighter no matter how hard I try. I know it’s ridiculous because our hook-up happened months ago, yet I remember every little detail as if it took place just yesterday. The way he manhandled me so easily and put me in the positions that he wanted me to be in. The way he kissed me as if it was the last time that he’d ever get to kiss a woman in his life. The way he growled the filthiest words into my ear and held me with those big, strong hands of his while I had orgasm after orgasm…
And then, radio silence. The gorgeous hunk of a man left me high and dry. WTF? Even worse, why did he ask for my number if he didn’t intend to use it? He could have just sent me on my way with a pat on the ass and a ‘thanks, that was fun!’ and left it at that, but instead he had to get my hopes up, only to cruelly dash them later. It’s so wrong!
Oh well. I guess I should just stop dwelling on it and move on. Be a big girl, and pull your big girl panties up, I admonish myself. But then I slump back into the sofa, boneless once more, all motivation evaporating from my limp body. I scroll through Instagram again, staring at pictures of handsome men with their square jaws and broad, bronzed chests. Henry Cavill, Ryan Reynolds, and Tom Hardy. Now this is what I call healing.
I’m just about to start watching some mindless TikTok videos when suddenly, my head quirks. What was that? Then, I realize it’s the silence making my ears ring because it’s been a while since I last heard my cat prancing around. That’s weird. Where’s Calico? My eyes narrow as I slowly sit up.
My apartment is pretty small so I should be able to hear her doing her thing. But only silence greets my ears, and I sit up straighter, a little uneasy. Calico never goes outside because she’s strictly an indoor cat, and wouldn’t even know what to do if she were out in the big world. She’s a homebody who likes to bat her yarn balls around or knock things off my counter for no reason other than to be a jerk. If she’s not into something, she’s usually sunbathing in front of the window or sleeping under my bed.
I walk around a bit, my senses alert. Where is that damn cat? My apartment is tiny, so there aren’t many places she could be. It’s just a one bedroom, so I look around the shabby living room and kitchen before heading into my bedroom. It’s a cozy space with a purple comforter covering the mattress, as well tapestries and polaroids pinned to the walls. And, of course, I’ve got some things for Calico, like her cat bed and a few cat trees and toys to keep her amused.
But where is she? I check under my bed and see nothing. But when I glance at her favorite window, expecting to see her curled up on the ledge snoozing away, I see it then. The pane is cracked open just a bit, but I know my cat. She’s like a contortionist and would be able to squeeze through that three-inch gap.
My heartbeat speeds up as I begin panicking. I’m not even thinking straight, so I try to push the window open wider and climb out myself before remembering that I can’t fit through the tiny crack. Clearly, I’m losing it. I have a front door that I’m perfectly capable of opening and walking out of, so I need to do it.
I run out of the door and out onto the lawn of our apartment complex. It’s a gorgeous day, and the sun beats down on my head as I scramble over the green grass.
“Calico, Calico!” I call, not caring if I sound like a crazy woman. “Where are you?”
Worst-case scenarios start streaming through my mind. My cat is never going to survive out here. Look how big that tree is. Look at that person walking their humongous dog. Calico’s never been outside a day in her life, so what if she runs into the street and gets hit by a truck, or gets jumped on and eaten by some wild animal?
I guess the odds of either of those things happening aren’t that high since this is suburban New Jersey, but still. My apartment complex is a low-slung, two-story building with nothing but a bit of lawn and trees around it, so there could be a wild animal lurking in the bushes. Or maybe not.
I try to remind myself to keep calm, but my heart’s pounding in my ears as my pulse races. Where is she? I race around some more, getting hot and sweaty, when I finally round a corner and hear a quiet mrow from up above. Where is that coming from? I cover my eyes with one hand and squint upwards. Is she stuck in a tree?
“Calico?” I call a few times, trying to spot her among the leaves of an enormous oak. The meows continue, and finally, I see my damn cat on the roof of the apartment building. “Calico! What the heck?” I gasp. “What are you doing up there? How did you even—Calico, get down right now!”
Despite my stern admonition, Calico doesn’t budge even a little bit. She continues looking down at me, tail whipping from side to side as she meows. Here I was thinking that the little shit was scared, but this is probably just one big game to her. Then again, I guess I’d think it was fun to be up on the rooftop too if I had nine lives, but I don’t, so what’s the appeal?
“Calico, please!” I nearly beg. “You could get hurt if you fall from there! If you could figure out a way to get up there, can’t you figure out a way to come back down? Hmm? Calico, sweetheart, honey bun, bundle of joy, come down now!”
She begins prancing around the roof as if she can understand every word that I’m saying, but she’s taunting me instead of doing what I say. I huff as I slap a hand to my forehead and try to think. I grumble to myself as I wrack my brain to come up with a solution, and the first thing I think of is the ladder that my superintendent keeps down in the car port.
“That’s it!” I say, the proverbial light bulb going off in my head. “Perfect. Okay, you stay right where you are, Calico, and I’ll be back. I mean it! Stay there,” I admonish even as I sprint off in the direction of the car port.
I’m glad nobody else is around because I know I look ridiculous running like a madwoman with my hair on fire. I get to the covered parking spots, and see the enormous aluminum ladder right away. Perfect. I grab hold and struggle with the weight, but then manage to hoist the thing over my shoulder. Staggering a bit, I make my way back to where my cat’s still perched, peering over the ledge of the roof at me. By now, I’m bowled over and out of breath, but I still feel accomplished because I’m one step closer to getting her down. I set up the ladder, propping it against the side of the building and then take a moment to recuperate. My lungs are burning slightly and my biceps are sore, but it’s fine. I can power through.
With a deep breath, I begin climbing up the ladder. The metal steps tremble ever so slightly with my slow ascent, and nerves are beginning to get the best of me. My knees shake, and my body feels weak. But I tell myself to keep going, and soon enough, I’m at the very top and step onto the roof, grateful to have something solid beneath my feet once more. Then I look around, surveying the vast emerald lawn and the parking structure off to the right. To be honest, despite this being only a two-story complex, it feels like I’m up really high. Honestly, I’m getting a bit of vertigo and nausea churns in my stomach.
But then my cat meows, nudging her head against my shin and I turn.
“Calico!” I breathe out a sigh of relief as I scoop her up into my arms. “I was so worried about you! How could you do something so dangerous! You—” My fussing is cut short when suddenly, a loud crash sounds behind me. I whip around quickly, gasping as I look down and notice that one, we actually are pretty high up and two, that loud crash was the ladder. The silver beast is no longer leaning against the building but rather lying flat on the ground in a collapsed state.
“Oh shit,” I whisper. I feel like I’m going to be sick. What am I going to do? But this is fine, right? I’m sure someone heard that ruckus, and will come out running to save us.
But I stand there and wait for what is probably five minutes and nobody comes. The car port was mostly empty of vehicles when I went there to get the ladder, and it’s the middle of the day, so people are probably at work right now. Even worse, I don’t have my phone because I ran out of the apartment in such a rush.
Damn it. What do I do?
Calico jumps out of my arms and prowls over to the corner of the roof. It’s as if she knows that we’re going to be here for a while because she walks around in a circle a couple of times and then curls up and goes right to sleep like not a thing in the world is wrong. In fact, she looks positively peaceful with the sun beating down on her orange and black fur.
Meanwhile, I plop down onto my butt and throw my head in my hands. We’re going to die here, aren’t we? What if no one notices us and we’re stuck here for hours? It’s a hot day. Will Calico and I die of dehydration? Will we suffer sunstroke? OMG, what do I do if we literally start baking from the ungodly heat? I know my thoughts are getting away from me, but still, I feel doomed. Yet inside, I know what I need: a hot firefighter to save me from this emergency now.
