Page 41 of Kitten

The heater clanged. I bent to check on Silver. She remained in the same position as before, her tongue sticking out.

“Let’s go for a swim.” I shook her. “I’ll leave without you.”

When I tried picking her up, she hissed. Resigned, I put on my swimsuit and packed my bag. Still, I made sure to keep the front door unlocked so she could let herself out and join me if she changed her mind.

The sea today was full of people, presumably drawn out by the warm weather. Usually we swam late in the afternoon, when the waves were gentler, and I had to exertmyself in the morning’s high tide. I fantasized about the waves building into a tsunami and destroying the whole town, washing me someplace new and simple.

Without Silver leading the way, I couldn’t summon the motivation to swim out very far. I held my breath and let myself sink, crossing my legs when I hit the gritty bottom. When my lungs started to burn, I pushed myself up, meeting the eyes of a random child who, seeing me, twisted and splashed away.

Someone waved at me from shore: a girl. I approached her.

“Katie,” she called. I blinked and her face became clear. Isabelle.

“Were you looking for me?”

She laughed. “You make me sound like a stalker. No, I just wanted to get out of the house.”

Because Isabelle had instigated the conversation, I figured she would keep it going. She didn’t. She just smiled at me, looking expectant.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go out with you and James,” I finally said.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad I caught you. I don’t know if you got my message. I thought it’d be nice to grab coffee or lunch sometime.”

“Did he tell you to reach out?”

“I actually had to hound him for your number.”

“Oh.” Then, because she still didn’t fill the silence, I said, “Coffee would be nice.”

“Are you free now?”

Isabelle was obviously a nice person, but her eagernessconfused me. I wondered if she would treat me the same way if I weren’t dating James, if I were just a girl she met at a party. James said that Isabelle’s family had more money than his. I didn’t know there were so many levels to being rich.

“Come on,” she said. “My treat.”

The window for politely declining passed. I threw on a sweater over my swimsuit and followed her away from the beach. She led us to an airy café covered in black-and-white photographs of the ocean. People really were obsessed here.

“Go ahead.” Isabelle led me to the barista. I asked for a hot chocolate.

“Make that two.” She slid her arm gracefully in front of me, card already offered before the barista could ask if we were paying together. The move was effortless yet deliberate. I played with my hair. Should I have offered to pay? Maybe my mistake was earlier. I should’ve pushed back against ordering first, seen it for the trick of politesse that it was. Where did people learn these things?

We sat with our mugs. “I can pay you back,” I said.

“Sorry?”

I couldn’t tell if she really hadn’t heard me. She spoke again before I could decide. “I never get hot chocolate, yum. I forget that you’re allowed to drink it as an adult.”

I sipped. It burned my tongue.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” she said. “About my mom being weird to you the other day. She’s tough. And she really loves James. He reminds her of, I don’t know, the golden days.”

“The golden days?”

“When we were kids, I guess.”

“That must take a toll on your friendship.”

“God, no,” she said. “No, James and I never had any drama. I think we just understand each other. We were both kind of lonely as children, I guess. When he started living with us, it was basically the best thing that ever happened to me. His situation was awful, I knew that, but it was like this never-ending sleepover. We made all these little music videos together. Has he ever shown you one? And my mom was so nice, too. I loved him for making her nice.”