Page 129 of No Need to Run
A tiny, gray and white kitten is puffed up on the edge of the deck, fur standing on end like it’s preparing for war.
And on the other side of the glass is Mr. Pickles. His claws drag down the glass door, yowling like his life depends on it.
“…Are you kidding me right now?” Drew mutters.
He takes a cautious step forward.
The kitten hisses louder, dramatic and offended.
“Okay,” Drew says slowly, holding his hands up. “I’m friendly. Really.”
He takes another step?—
The kitten lunges forward, swiping at his ankle.
Drew jumps and yells. “Jesus—!” as he stumbles backward.
Unfortunately, he’s too close to the stairs. His foot misses the step, and he tumbles down.
I don't think.
I drop my binoculars and sprint from the shrubs.
I can’t let him get hurt.
“Oh my God. Are you okay?”
He looks up at me, stunned and confused.
But then his brows wrinkle. Suspicion lines his face.
“Violet…What are you doing here?”
Right.I shouldn’t be here.
And certainly not emerging from the bushes.
“I—” I gesture vaguely behind me. “I was out for a walk.”
It’s not entirely a lie. There was walking involved.
“At night?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
His eyes narrow. He doesnotbelieve me. Not even a little.
I should have run around the side of the house. Not emerged from the shrubs.
But it’s too late for that now.
Another hiss cuts through the moment.
We both turn.
The tiny kitten is on the top step, staring at us. Still puffed up and ready to fight everything in existence.
Mr. Pickles slams his paw against the glass again, furious that an intruder is onhisdeck.
