Her boundless energy sweeps her up the stairs ahead of me and when I shuffle into my room she is perched on my bed with a thousand-watt smile. I can only half heartedly listen to her ramblings as I flop into the dried-blood chair in the corner. I'm fully concentrating on keeping my eyes open when she is suddenly in front of me. Her proximity jolts me awake in time to hear her murmur, "You're really beautiful, Jade."
She is unlike anyone I have ever met. She is the only person I can't hate. I have every reason to- she's unnaturally happy, loves bright colors, and never shuts up –but I can't. Why, you ask? Because she shows up at my house at 2 am unannounced and fully expects me to amuse her.
Because when my eyes are bruised and bloodshot from exhaustion, she has the gall to call me beautiful.
I can only stare at her before smirking, "Are all insomniacs certifiably insane?" She just giggles uncontrollably and skips down the stairs chattering about apples.
I manage a couple hours of sleep before she is dragging me out the back door. I mumble incoherently as she sits me down on the porch steps and shoves a coffee in my hand. I like to pretend it's the caffeine, and not Cat's breath on my neck, that wakes me up. She's still talking a mile a minute in the gray light but falls silent as the sun comes into view.
Cat is the only person alive who knows I love sunrises. I never planned to tell her my guilty pleasure, but it just came out one afternoon. I mumbled it to her as she was tracing the lines on my palm. While I expected shock, she just beamed and said something about a funny cloud she saw once. But from that moment on, she became a part of sunrise.
She always falls quiet when she catches her first glimpse of gold, and remains so until it is entirely in the sky. I love watching her face as the sun breaks the tree line. She lights up brighter than any sunrise I've ever seen, and I can't help but grin like a loon at her.
She snuck her way under my armor a long time ago.
She hops to her feet and darts inside. I rise slowly, back popping loudly, and follow amusedly. Just as I anticipated, she's juggling a box of Lucky Charms, two glass cereal bowls, and the milk jug while grasping a pair of spoons between her teeth. I relieve her of the milk and bowls while she head butts me in the chest as a thank you. Hands reclaiming the spoons, she begins, "I think we-" but gets cut off by the slamming of the front door.
Shit.
Daddy dearest is home from a business trip to god knows where. Cat's eyes widen in fear as his foot steps approach and I feel sick. I bump her into the pantry as the kitchen door opens. His eyes glare into mine before skimming to the bowls in my hands- bowls in the plural.
"Where is she?" he snarls. "I told you I don't want her in this house!" My back stiffens in rage at his tone but I manage to control my voice. "Not here. Beck's coming over for breakfast in a few minutes." His eyes glaze over as he turns away and I think I've won- until I hear a thump behind me.
He hisses and shoves me out of the way. I impulsively let one of the bowls slip from my grasp and it shatters against the tile floors. The distraction works, and he turns his back on the pantry. Cat quietly eases into the kitchen while he bellows at me, hugging the cereal box like a teddy bear. She seeks my eyes and my breath hitches at the pain in her chocolate orbs. A sad smile is her parting gift as she slips unnoticed out the back door.
He eventually runs out of steam and stomps to the bathroom, the threat of Cat momentarily forgotten. I leave the shattered bowl on the floor and sprint up the stairs. I dart into my room and grab Cat's backpack. I'm on the stairs when the toilet flushes. I get the front door open as he strides into the room. He roars as I spin outside and just before the door slams, I see his eyes locked on the obnoxiously pink backpack on my shoulder.
I'm in the car before he gets the door open and I leave him seething on the curb as I screech away. I drive to the park and see Cat sitting on a swing, munching on those damn Lucky Charms. She skips over when she sees my car and silently hops into the passenger seat. I stare at my white-knuckled hands gripping the wheel, trying to grasp an apology out of my jumbled mind. Her soft hand slips onto mine and pries it free of its grasp. Guiding it to her lips, she kisses it gently.
The gesture rips my armor from the inside out.
I throw myself across the car, slamming her into the door, and her lips are just as I remember. Soft. Forgiving. Addicting. My hands find their way into her red velvet hair as she freezes in apprehension.
I don't blame her- the last time I allowed this, my father walked in on us and threw her, half naked, onto the front lawn, barking obscenities at her all the while.
The scene tears at my eyelids when I sleep and stabs my heart when I least expect it. That night was enough to scare me into Beck's arms and I tried to strangle my love for her. But to do that, I would've had to strangle myself, because she became a part of me a long time ago.
Her arms eventually slide around me and she pulls me flush against her. I gasp at the unexpected motion, and she slips her tongue behind my lips. She tastes of sugar cereal. I snake my tongue out to greet hers and we begin a familiar battle of dominance. I can't help but grin into the kiss, loving the feeling of her lips against mine. She moves to flip us over, pressing a hand behind her onto the door to get leverage. Unfortunately, her hand catches the handle and we go tumbling out onto the pavement.
I land on top of her and quickly roll off, afraid that she's hurt. But she rolls with me and ends up straddling me in the road, eyes glinting in delight, mouth curved mischievously.
She bends down and recaptures my lips in a warm kiss. Before I can deepen it, a car passes by with its horn blaring. She sits up, giggling, as I show it the middle finger, but I can't help but chuckle with her. She bounces to her feet and extends a hand to me. I let her lift me up before wrapping my arms around her tight.
"Jade," she murmurs, "promise me you won't leave this time."
My throat tightens up but I manage to choke out, "I'm not going anywhere, Cat."
And as she hums against my neck in the middle of the street at 7 in the morning, I know I'll always be hers.