hi friends. i failed the contest LOL. 
but i still like this story, so ima stick to it the best i can.
lmk if you guys are liking it, too! 

₍^. .^₎⟆
1. The Hookup

The kitty-cat eyes were working on me. I had stood my ground for the first night, nearly caved the second, but when I got home on Tuesday night, I felt too guilty not to feed him.

He wasn't even that cute of a cat. I had excellent self-restraint when it came to things like this. A hungry cat that I had zero obligation toward was easy enough to ignore. But Avani's pouty face kept popping up in my mind every time I looked at the stupid cat. Curse my sister and her persistent skill of getting what she wanted. So I purchased a few cans of cat food at the over-priced convenience store down the road, circled back home, and set a dish out for him.

He fed like he hadn't eaten in days. I took a seat on the top step and watched him chow down, wondering if he really was lost. He was friendly enough to Avani, so it wasn't like he was just an unlovable furball. Objectively speaking, he was cute, I guess. He was a mix of orange, brown, and black splotches all over his body, and his eyes were big and bright. When he looked up from his bowl, I realized that one was blue and the other green. I hadn't looked this close before.

"Where's your family?" I asked. He responded with a quiet mew. "I can't afford to feed you every day. Don't you have, like, primal instincts or something? Go catch a mouse."

I found it strange that the cat often responded to what I would say as if he understood me. Just then, I swear to God, he all but rolled his eyes. Maybe he was just expressive. Either way, he was far too keen on hanging out in my backyard and Avani would kill me if I just ignored him during his stay.

Day after day, I brought a dish with canned cat food out to the stupid cat. He always ate, rubbed on me in gratitude, and then sat at my feet while I spoke about my day. It was kind of ironic. Someone finally gets me to speak more than a few words and it's a stupid cat.

A few weeks later, I met a girl named Diana at the grocery store and she asked for my number. We texted very briefly and soon enough, I was inviting her to my place. It was clear that neither of us was looking for anything serious, just a night or two of fun, so I didn't have any reason not to shoot my shot. After a quick tidy up of my house, I saw headlights shining through the front window.

The stupid cat was lounging on the middle step when I walked out and he jumped up when I opened the door. I felt a little guilty; he was likely expecting his dinner by now. With a guest coming, I'd forgotten about him.

"Sorry, cat. I'll feed you after she leaves."

His head turned toward the sound of her engine running. I slipped right past him to greet her at the gate and usher her back. When I came back to walk Diana to the door, the cat kept his distance by lurking across the yard. I paid him little to no mind as I embarked on my night's endeavor.

₍^. .^₎⟆

In the morning, it took me a while to remember the promise I made to the cat.

With it being my day off, I'd slept in. Diana was over until around two in the morning and I didn't sleep until I'd downed a couple of bottles. I woke up around noon, taking up far more of my day with sleep than I'd actually intended. It was a Saturday, so the obligations were minimal and I could do whatever I wanted.

So I brewed a pot of coffee, scrolled down my newsfeed for at least thirty minutes, made myself lunch out of leftovers from the other night, and sat down on the couch with a beer. It wasn't until I'd taken my first bite when I remembered the stupid cat, and guilt swept over me like an avalanche.

"Ah, shit," I muttered, pushing my plate to the side to jump to my feet. He was never around during the day, but maybe if I brought his bowl outside, he'd come back soon to eat it. I prepared his slop and even threw in a piece of chicken from my lunch because I felt bad, and then made my way outside. "Cat—"

I didn't have to look far. There he was, completely sprawled out in the sunshine, his coat gleaming and probably warm to the touch. He looked up at me, head turned upside down with his teeth showing, and I felt an unfamiliar warmth slip under my skin. Fondness, maybe, as I looked at my unwanted yard-guest. I didn't think the day would come that I'd be pleased to see that little face.

Except my fondness seemed one-sided. While he'd normally hop up to greet me, he simply tilted his chin back down and resumed his position. I set the dish down beside his head and he had the nerve to turn away from it.

"Are you seriously pouting?" I laughed in disbelief. "I'm sorry I forgot to feed you last night, but let's not forget that I don't even want you here."

The cat pushed himself into a sitting position and cleaned his paws, still ignoring my generous food offering. I furrowed my eyebrows and settled onto the grass beside him, loosely holding my knees in front of me. He finished licking himself and still, just sat. I nudged the bowl toward him, and was amazed to watch him attempt to nudge it back with one paw.

I scoffed. "Fine. I'll eat it," I said, picking up the dish and picking up the piece of chicken. He remained in his still position, just scrutinizing my every move. "I made this with love, you know."

Bringing the chicken to my mouth, dripping in the juice from the canned wet food, I pretended to eat it with exaggerated lip smacking noises and letting out a noise of satisfaction. He stared at me, unimpressed, and I sighed in defeat. Placing the dish back down in front of him, I pushed myself back off the ground.

"Eat. Don't eat. I don't care," I quipped. "I am sorry I forgot, so stop acting like a toddler. Stupid cat."

With that, I left him outside. The following morning, the plate was licked clean.

₍^. .^₎⟆

The second time I had Diana over, it was the middle of October. She warned me that it would be the last time she'd come because she was moving the following week. I had no problem letting go since our relationship was strictly physical.

I made sure I didn't forget to feed the cat before she came this time. He was back to normal after the little fit he threw that day, so I sat with him while he ate. Once he'd finished, he came and rubbed on my legs as usual. I even took to petting the smooth, multi-colored fur atop his head. After a minimal amount of research, I figured out he was some kind of calico breed, which didn't really mean much when it came to cats.

"My boss introduced this new recipe for brioche sliders and it's the worst. I hate making brioche because you have to actually use your brain when it comes to measurements and finding the perfect consistency. It's like the gluten disappears while making it," I muttered, running my fingers along the lines of the orange sections on his head. He always let me pet him however I felt comfortable without asking for more, like he knew I had to warm up to him. "And my boss knows I hate it, but he keeps advertising this stupid slider like it's our specialty. I'm about to tell him he can shove all the brioche buns right up his—"

Both of our heads turned when Diana's car pulled up around the front, breaking the quiet of my street. I stood and left him in the backyard to greet her. When we came around, the cat was sitting on the railing of the porch steps. Diana was a gentle girl and didn't approach him hastily or aggressively, so I was surprised when as soon as her hand was stretched out, he hissed.

"The fuck?" I sputtered, stepping between them. I'd be damned if she went home with rabies or something just because he was back to his mood swings. "Ignore him, he's just a stray."

Without a second thought, I left the bipolar cat to think about what he'd done.

₍^. .^₎⟆

He disappeared again. I even put food out for him, but the following morning, it was practically untouched other than a line of ants that had won the ant lottery.

I decided not to dwell on it when the day began, but when I left work and felt a shiver run down my spine, I began to feel differently. It was about that time of the year when the temperature dropped and going out without a jacket wasn't an option. We had a few weeks before the roads would freeze, and then it would snow endlessly until just before spring.

The stupid cat would be out in the cold all night and without his dinner, at that. Even still, he wasn't there when I got home that night. I didn't want to keep wasting cat food on him if he decided to leave for good, but I actually seemed to care now, for some reason.

So, alongside a fresh bowl of food, I pulled a throw blanket and an empty box outside. There, I constructed a makeshift shelter for him if he decided to come back. When I felt sure that the cat would find the box to be a better shelter than underneath the porch or in a tree or wherever the hell he slept at night, I turned in. 

It was odd how quickly I took to taking care of this cat, albeit with minimal effort. Other than my sister on nights when my mom worked late, I had never taken care of anything that wasn't myself. Maybe it was the routine of it, putting food out every night and taking a moment to breathe and release my woes of the day. If nothing else, he had the ability to make me speak more than I ever had. 

I had an early morning, so I went to sleep after peeking out the window one last time to check if the cat had stopped by. 

₍^. .^₎⟆

"There you are." 

Having woken up at the crack of dawn to shower and get ready for my early morning meeting with one of my professors, the sun hadn't even broken above the horizon yet. It was still dark when I stepped out my backdoor, but I was pleased to see the cat sleeping in the box bed I'd made him. 

His eyes blinked open when I spoke and he pushed himself up to greet me. I crouched down just as he stepped onto the deck, arching his back into a big stretch. "You had me worried again, you stupid cat," I muttered, the sleep still evident in the gravelly-ness of my voice. He rubbed against  my leg and I pet his head, daring to stroke down his back, too. "Were you nice and warm in your little cat-house?" 

He purred in response, so I took that as a yes. 

"I've gotta go, but you better not disappear again tonight." 

The little meow I received in reply was enough confirmation to set my mind at ease. As much as I hated to admit it, I began looking forward to seeing the cat on my porch step after work, so for him to vanish so suddenly was off-putting. And maybe I was making up every 'response' he made just for my own sake, so I couldn't get my hopes up about him actually listening—since he was a cat and he didn't speak English, after all. 

But he was there that night. And that was enough for me.