Page 22 of The Inevitable Us

“You need a wheelie basket,” a voice says behind me. I turn to notice a boy in his twenties with blonde hair he hides under a Titan’s cap. Likely a student from the nearby culinary institute like myself. “Or a wagon. I have a collapsable one I keep in my trunk.”

I furrow my eyebrows, realizing he’s right. “I just moved in.”

He laughs at me. “I can see.” The elevator stops, and he gets off on the second floor, nodding at me as he leaves.

After making a grilled cheese sandwich for my supper, I sit on the couch with my laptop, ignoring the beeps of my phone. They are most likely from Rory. He’s constantly texted today. I haven’t answered, wanting some space. My heart hurts when I thinkI only thought of Sawyer twice today.That’s a start, isn’t it?

Deepbreaths,Rosalie.Nocrying today. You’re in your own apartment, in a new city. There’s no cameras, no bodyguards, and no responsibilities since school hasn’t started.No Sawyer.My mind wanders briefly when I realize today is his last day with my family. I don’t even know where he’s going from there, so I’ll have no idea where he is. He doesn’t have any sort of social media. I’d tried to find it long ago, so I can’t keep track of him that way. He is simply going to be gone from my life.

Dang it, Rosalie, you’ve not even left bed yet, and you’re crying over him. Stop it.Quickly throwing on clothing, I leave the loft to find something, anything, to occupy my mind. Eyeing the elevator for the garage, I decide to go on foot today to spare myself the parking woes.

I just need to get out of the house and explore my new neighborhood. Everything here is easily accessible on foot anyway. I stop at a small coffee shop I find hidden on a side street. A chalkboard sign outside says “Hipster Daycare Center” with an arrow pointing towards the large glass and bronze doors.

The smell reminds me of Serendipity. As I sit down on the plush royal blue couch that looks like it belongs in Queen Elizabeth’s drawing room, I decide this is my new coffee place.

Looking up, I see him again. That same guy from the elevator. He’s carrying a bagel and a large coffee, nodding a “what’s up” at me in recognition as he walks by. He’s wearing a pair of worn cargo shorts and a t-shirt from the culinary institute I’ll start in a few weeks, confirming my theory that he’s also a student.

Finishing up my own muffin, I bring the small saucer back to the counter and purchase a water bottle. I don’t have a predetermined location or a plan today. I just want to go on foot and explore.

As I’m walking down the alley, I notice a tiny apricot-colored fur ball scurry from one side of the alley to another before it starts to meow loudly. It’s tiny, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Walking over to the metal dumpster, I see the very young kitten. It’s curled up, cornered, and hisses at me when I get closer. “Are you lost?” I scoop it up, and it curls into my arms and meows at me as if asking what took me so long. The kitten immediately starts purring, its tiny body vibrating with pleasure.

I hear another tiny meow, and a fluffy black kitten walks up to me, wobbling as it walks. It comes straight to me and looks up as if asking to be picked up. I scoop it up in my arms, examining both of them, worried. The kittens are both skin and bones, and I can see fleas. I remember seeing a plate glass window with cats sunning themselves a few blocks back.

Maybe it’s a pet store? With my new furry friends, I walk the block down the street to the storefront.

Looking at my new friends, I realize I’m now owned by two kittens.

Stopping by the pet store, I buy two tiny velcro collars with bells that an employee told me I can cut to size, two shallow food bowls, special wet food for young kittens, and enough toys to keep them busy.

I head back to the apartment with my new friends, stopping by the management office to pay my pet deposit. Unlike Rory, I’ve been frugal with the money I earn, so I have enough saved up to pay for the pet deposit and my car insurance while I look for a job.

Once we arrive home, I research how to bathe them (dish soap for fleas the internet says). Once flea free, their coats noticeably glossier, they wander around the apartment before climbing onto the sofa and making themselves at home on a cushion. I set up a small litter box in the already cramped loft and another downstairs for them before sitting next to my new companions.

I snuggle up with my new friends and watch tv and decide to name the kittens Wednesday and Charlie.

When my eyes start to droop, I carry them upstairs to the loft, blocking off the stairs with a special baby gate they can’t squeeze through, and place them on the bed and watch as they curl up together near my head.

I only thought of him once today. Crap, does this count as twice since I thought about the fact I’d only thought of him once?

“It’sthefirstdayof my entire life that he hasn’t worked for my father,“ is my first thought when I open my eyes. Today is apparently not the day I don’t think about him. Seeing my eyes open, Wednesday starts meowing loudly for her food.

Carrying both baby kittens down the stairs, I try to make plans for the day.

I should go exploring again. I can leave now and come back at lunchtime to check on the kittens. They’re already going back to sleep…

I wonder if he left because of me.Remembering how I threw myself at him, my face pinkens, and I inwardly groan. He told me repeatedly,“Be a good girl, Rosalie,” and “Go to Knoxville.”Did I listen to his less than subtle hints? No, no, I didn’t. I’d offered him my virginity on a silver platter, and he’d turned it down. Of course he had. Why would he want an inexperienced virgin with the whole “I work for your dad” complication when he can have any woman he wants? I feel myself start to tear up again. Nope, I’m going out.

I put a small cat bed and their litter box in the bathroom and leave the kittens with a few toys to occupy themselves until I get back. They’re already curling onto the bed to nap together. I’m grateful now they have each other for company while I’m gone.

Thinking of my options for today, I decide to try to find my new school. Mom, Dad, and I had toured the large campus months ago, but it feels as if it was so long ago now. Heading out on foot, I look up a map of the campus. The building on campus where the culinary school is located is only a few minutes walk from my loft. Maybe I can go on foot instead of fighting for a parking spot on campus on good weather days.

I wander from building to building, trying to acclimate myself to the campus. Walking out, I bump into someone since I wasn’t really paying attention. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t..”

The blue-eyed guy from my apartment smiles down at me, “Three times in three days. I’m starting to think you’re stalking me.”

Yeah, dude, not a good joke in my family. But he doesn’t know that, does he? He doesn’t even know my name. “I was here first. Looks like you’re following me,” I say, forcing a small laugh as I walk away.

“Hey stalker, you going to tell me your name?” he yells to me when I get a few feet away. “We should at least introduce ourselves since we’re neighbors and all that.”

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