CHAPTER TWO

Apparently Moscowfeather didn't know what a fish was.

Moscowfeather, a brown tabby cat with a tail resembling a feather, looked up pitifully at Akitian with big, sorrowful, green eyes. But Akitian saw the mocking smile on the cat's face. She kicked at the tabby playfully, and Moscow mreowed and bounded away into the depth of the living room.

"Akitian?" a little girl about the age of seven poked her head through the doorway, burning with curiousity. Her eyes were round and dark red, and her hair was gray, running down to her shoulders.

"Oh, there you are, Deymo," Akitian turned around and smiled, holding a dark, metal pan smelling of turkey bacon, "You skipped school again, huh? Tsk, tsk."

Deymo giggled and ran off. Akitian smirked, "Catch Moscow for me, will ya?"

"Moscow ran off! Off! Off!" Deymo squealed from the living room.

Akitian laughed until she heard the lamp crash to the floor with the ear-splitting sound of breaking glass. Then she heard Deymo squeal with laughter, and Moscow's paws, thump-thumping against the top of the bookshelf.

"Alright!"

Akitian leapt into the doorway connecting the kitchen she was just in and the living room, "This apartment isn't big enough for the both of us!"

"EEEEEeeeek!" Deymo's smile broke into a wide grin that stretched across her face. Moscow simply meowed with boredom, watching the two chase one another from his place on top of the grandfather clock.

Akitian sighed and looked up at the club. She didn't like this place-in fact, this building was just a wall of bricks to mooch off of. Apparently, no other place would accept a 9th grader, even if she were smart and curious and strong.

Here, in the club Featherdust-what a weird name-Akitian worked as a bartender. Often people flirted with her, so she had to make sure to have an alias so that people wouldn't track her down and come and find her living with Deymo and Moscowfeather. That would be too dangerous to risk.

"Hey, Amelia…Weathergirl?" a voice called.

"My name is Amelia Watson!" Akitian sourly replied. Even though that was her alias, she didn't like to be called by a misremembered name.

"Whatever. Amelia! I need you to been the emcee tonight! The other girl…what's her name…" a fat man suited in white ran over to Akitian and started to rub his stubby chin, full of lumps and wrinkles.

"Margaret?" Akitian scoffed.

"Yeah, Momo, whatever her name is."

"I think it's Margaret."

"Anyway, could you?" the fat man pleaded.

"Well, you'd have to pay me extra, and give me full tips," Akitian narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms in defiance. No way would this greedy man agree.

But, apparently, for a second there, she forgot that this guy was a pervert, a liar, and probably worse, "Okay, Amy." The man wiggled his eyebrows and smiled.

Akitian leaned back, in order not to faint from his beer breath and ruined teeth, "Okay, fat man."

The man frowned, "Call me Quentin."

"Nah, I'll call you Mr. Chamberlain," Akitian walked past Mr. Chamberlain, making sure not to bump into him-and making sure that he didn't try to bump into her.

"Come on, honey-"

Akitian growled, swung around, and hit Quentin Chamberlain right in the face with her blue bag, "Don't call me honey."

She stalked off hastily, quickly, and furiously, leaving her boss to weep over his face.