Page 21 of Hey Girl

“Anaphuck this.” I slap my forehead. “Thanks a bunch, Pablo Escobar.”

“Look how squishy I am!” Rebecca’s voice is somewhat strained as she presses two throw pillows to her face, squeezing her adorable munchkin cheeks together.

Christ.

“See? She’s happy,” my mom argues, waving a hand at Rebecca. “She’s completely let loose.”

“Loose as a goose,” Rebecca tacks onto the end, her eyes rolling around in her head.

Fuck. Her battery is running low. I need to get my mom out of here.

“Alright, time to go, you freaking drug dealer,” I stand and gesture for my mom to do the same.

“Do you have to be so intense?” She rolls her eyes as she rises from the chair. “I didn’t drug her for Goddess’s sake, it was justsome tea! It’s made her a bit more chill than I was expecting, but there’s no way it can hurt her any more than parsley or sage could.”

“Rosemary and thyyyyyyyyme,” Rebecca sings back, entirely out of key. Oof, baby girl couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.

“It’s witches brew!” I amend her statement as I start punching at the Uber app on my screen. Thank BLAST there’s a car four blocks away. “I got you a ride home. Now kindly go wait on the porch.” I bid the woman who gave me life adieu.

“Just let her sleep it off and when she wakes up, let her have just half a cup of coffee and lots of water.” My mother waves an instructing finger over her shoulder as she glides to the door. “She’ll be fine,” she adds, blowing a kiss before seeing herself out and closing the door behind her.

I turn to find Rebecca barely visible on the couch. She’s squashed herself into the corner of the sectional, shimmied and squished herself as deep down in the cushions as far as she can go and piled the remaining pillows on top of her so that only her eyes and nose are in view. If she could relax -not quite this much- more often, I can’t help but wonder if she could be my weird soul mate. But now, how to approach her in this state…

“Hey there, you adorable little mouse freak.” I slowly step towards her. “Watcha doin’?”

“Trying to see how small I can get,” she responds, her eyes starting to look droopy.

“Oh that’s neat,” I encouragingly praise like one would to a toddler that just finished a lego tower. “You certainly look tiny. But you know what’s even better? Seeing how big you can get… by stretching out, letting those muscles-,”

“Zzzzzz…zzzz…”

Rebecca’s eyes are now closed and heavy snoozing sounds are coming from inside the pillows. Welp, Mom said to let hersleep. But being cramped and scrunched in that position can’t be comfortable or good for circulation.

“Okay, Mouse,” I quietly murmur to myself more than to Rebecca as I inch closer and start to remove all the cushions. “What do we say we get you to your room where you can be more com-,”

“SNORT!”

I startle. “-comfy,” I finish.

After getting rid of the pillows, I have to dig her out of the couch cushions before scooping her up, feeling more like a Disney Prince than ever and carry her towards her bedroom, her head cocked back and her mouth hanging open in a snore.

I stroll back into the living room and locate her TV remote. I’m flipping channels and trying not to get antsy when I feel something against my foot.

I look down at the weird, naked creature mewing down by my feet and an idea hits me. What better way to prove to Rebecca she can trust me than showing her I can care for her animals while she’s passed out?

“Okay… Iggy,” I address the hairless alien as I gingerly squat down to pick him up. God he feels weird. I gather him up and surprisingly, he lets me. “Alright listen. Man to man. Your mom is out of commission for the time being due to consumption,” I annunciate like he’s a human toddler. “But never fear, I’m here to take care of you and it’s gonna be cool. No worries, we’re just gonna chill alright? Hakuna Matata.” He doesn’t seem to give a shit as he looks at me with squinty eyes.

I look around for a place to get comfortable before strolling over to the couch holding the bare-ass naked cat. It feels so fucked up, but I sit.

“I gotta level with you, Iggy. I’m holding you while you’re naked and it’s creeping me out, man.”

Again, a deadpan expression is his response.

The video chat notification starts buzzing my phone and I scoop it up from the coffee table and look at the contact picture to see a Jason Momoa-looking mother fucker. Ah, Leo. I swipe the accept icon and am greeted by my friend’s smiling face.

“S’up man?” I greet as I sit back on the couch, totally content with the purr-ball on my lap.

“Chris! How the fuck are y - what the ever-loving fuck is that?” Leo squints at the screen incredulously.

---