Part Four: The Temptress

Chapter Twenty-three

The Jellicle Moon soon appeared in the night sky; cats seemed to appear from thin air to attend. There were cats that I had not seen in months—the Elders, mainly. They usually only appeared for formal occasions, such as this. Demeter looked around, her beautiful green eyes wide with excitement, "Oh, Bombie, isn't this wonderful?"

"Absolutely breathtaking," I agreed halfheartedly. I was busy looking for Munku. Over the past few weeks, we had become increasingly close, moving ever-onward towards the line that both of us knew we would eventually cross. It was no longer a matter of if but when.

Pretty little Dem was completely unaware.

I loved Demeter like sister—she was the only cat that I truly considered a friend. But still, she was a female and therefore a rival. I had already fully convinced myself that there was no way she would ever find out about my inevitable night with Munkustrap; I felt confident that I could shield her from the painful truth.

I already knew that Munkustrap would not be dancing tonight—he had already told me that he would be busy patrolling the outskirts of the junkyard, as usual. He said he would never attend the ball unless he was ready to choose a mate, and that time had not come yet. I smiled to myself, remembering how skillfully he had mentioned that he would only be on patrol for the first half of the ball—he would be relieved by Alonzo, and planned to retire to a deserted corner of the junkyard.

I knew what he was aiming at; I had simply smiled at him, letting my eyes tell him what my mouth didn't dare say.

~*~

After participating in several dances, I quietly slipped away, leaving Demeter to leap joyously about in the moonlight. She looked so happy and so beautiful; I almost stopped myself. What if she did find out? I imagined the grief and confusion on her now-smiling face. Could I bear to live with that?

I shook the thought from my mind and disappeared into the darkness. She wouldn't find out.

Halfway there I stopped. I couldn't do it. It wasn't a question of whether or not Demeter found out—I would know. I would bear that guilt every day—every time I looked at my friend, I would know that I betrayed her.

No. I couldn't do it.

~*~

I returned to the dance, feeling much better about myself.

Apparently, my timing was not that great—Skimbleshanks had obviously just returned from the shadows as well, prompting Jenny's suspicions. When I reappeared, it seemed as though her worst fears were confirmed.

"You hussy!" She hissed in a low tone, so that no one could hear us over the music. She grabbed me, dragging me further away from everyone else.

"Ow, Jenny—claws!" I cried as her talons dug into my arm. She released me roughly, but she didn't apologize, "I knew you were lying about seeing Skimble on the train, but I thought I was just jumping to conclusions—you don't have any friends outta town. But now I know you were with him that night! And now you do it again—just throwing it back in my face!"

"Jenny," I finally found my tongue. I was literally reeling from shock. Skimbleshanks…really? I mean, the guy was a loop. Why on earth would I…oh, yeah…I did make it seem like there was something up a few weeks ago. But I was merely messing with Jenny's mind. Apparently my innocent joke had backfired.

"Don't," she held up a warning paw. Her face was contorted with bitter hatred. "I should have known—you slut!"

She spat the word at me, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. "You're no better than the Glamour Cat—prancing in here, causing trouble, making toms be unfaithful, swinging those hips like you've got the world on a string! Well, Jellyorum and Demeter might be able to forgive you, but not me! I know trash when I see it, and there's only one good thing to do with trash—throw it out!"

Then she spat at me—she literally spat at me—and walked off in a huff.

I tried to stop the tears that had begun to sting my eyes. I had endured many snide comments and biting remarks over the years, but the hatred—the pure hatred in Jenny's face—I had never seen that before. I kept replaying her words over in my head.

There's only one good thing to do with trash—throw it out!

I couldn't seem to breathe—I could hear myself taking quick, panicked breaths, desperately trying to fill my lungs. I could feel the tears begin to trickle down my face, staining my cheeks with their warmth.

I looked back at the dancing cats. This was not my home. I didn't belong here.

And I was not about to spend another minute in that forsaken junkyard.

~*~

I ran blindly, not really caring where I went. As fate would have it, I ran straight into Munku's broad chest.

"Oh, Munku," I tried to wipe the tears away hurriedly. Even if he was blind, Munku could have heard the sobs and sniffles in my voice. "I-I-I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

"Are you OK?" He leaned forward, concern etched on his handsome features. I turned away quickly, Jenny's words still flashing across my brain, "What do you care?"

Munku stopped, surprised by my sudden change of mood. I looked at him, giving an ugly laugh through my tears, "What? Have you never seen a slut cry?"

"Don't say that," he said gently.

"What? 'Cry'?" I gave a sarcastic smile. He was serious, "Don't call yourself that. You're not."

"What am I then?" I challenged. I motioned around the Junkyard, "What else am I? Don't act stupid, Munkustrap! Everyone thinks I am. And why shouldn't they? I keep the guys wrapped around my pinkie; I make all the other queens jealous. I cause nothing but trouble. I'm just a no-good slut."

"No, you're not," he replied softly.

"Then what am I?" I looked at him. My tone was defiant, but my eyes were imploring, begging him to prove me wrong. I needed to know that I was something more than the trash that Jenny had equated me to.

"You're Bombalurina," he said, stepping closer to me. He wore a soft smile. "You're not perfect; and yes, you are trouble…"

I couldn't help but laugh at this, sniffling from my recent onslaught of tears. He continued with a smile, "But a good kind of trouble. And I wouldn't want it any other way."

He cupped my face in his hand and kissed me gently, the taste of his tongue mingling with the salt of my tears. I felt the very breath leave my lungs completely.

"Munku—"

"Shh," he put a finger to my lips. "Now's not the time for talking, Bombalurina."

I gave a breathless laugh at this, smiling in agreement.

~*~

"Did you hear something?" Munku looked up in alarm. I looked around lazily, a smile playing on my lips. I pulled him into me once more, "Probably just a curious kitten. Trying to get an early education."

He laughed softly at this. He quickly forgot it, losing himself in the softness of my touch and the dark summer night.

~*~

I watched Munkustrap's handsome face as he slept. Even when he was dreaming, his face never lost its somber demeanor. I smiled amusedly at this, wondering to myself how on earth I ever ended up with him by my side. He was different from all the others. He understood me; he cared about me. He…was waking up.

"Good morning, Tiger," I smiled at him. His reaction was not the one I anticipatied. Munkustrap sat up, drawing back from me in fear, "What have we done?"

"Forgotten already?" I asked playfully, nuzzling his nose. "Let me refresh your memory."

I leaned in to kiss him, but Munkustrap pushed me away with a force that surprised both of us. There was a moment of silence—me staring at him in hurt disbelief and he staring at me in shock and remorse. I picked myself up, "Well, I see that you would prefer to be alone."

"I love Demeter!" Munkustrap said quickly, stopping me in my tracks. I turned slowly to him, trying not to let the pain show on my face. I gave a soft smile, "I know."

I turned to go once more, my head held down in shame. I knew this wouldn't last long, but after the way he had spoken to me last night, I had begun to hope that perhaps it could be more. How could I have been so foolish? Here I was, burned by the flame that I had started, loser at my own game. Stupid Bombalurina—stupid, stupid!

How could anyone like Munku ever love someone like me?

"Look," Munku took a hesitant step towards me, stopping me once more. "It's not that I—I just—I can't explain. It's just…last night…was—"

"A mistake?" I helpfully supplied. I straightened my shoulders, "Look, Munku, I'm a big girl, OK? I can deal with it. You don't have to make excuses or try to console me. Let's just…never mention this again, OK?"

I turned towards him hopefully, pasting a bright smile on my face, "We can still be friends, can't we? No hard feelings?"

"Bombalurina," Munku stepped forward, lightly taking me by the shoulders. How I longed for him to just wrap me in his arms again—just once!

My lip quivered and I blinked back tears. I suddenly realized that he always called me by my full name—cold and impersonal, the way one would address a stranger or distant acquaintance. We were not even friends. Through a voice that was clouded with tears, I said, "Couldn't you just call me Bombie once, like everybody else? I never understood why you didn't."

"OK," he smiled softly. "Bombie."

I began to cry at this—this simple word, this meaningless nickname. But it wasn't that he had said it, it was how he said it—with such tenderness. Munku wrapped his arms around me, letting me cry into his chest. He stroked the fur on my head comfortingly, "You know it would never work—we'd kill each other within a week!"

I laughed at this—Munku was right. We could never be together. I straightened up, pulling away from his embrace, "Demeter's a good queen, ya know? And I know she is crazy about you, too."

"Really?" His face lit up. I nodded, "Really."

I stepped away, "She is my best friend; I want her to be happy."

I turned back to Munku, "Could you make her happy, Munku? Will you promise me that you will make her happy?"

"I will try," he replied with a helpful smile. I nodded, sniffing back another sob, "That's all I can ask for. You know, I never wanted this to be anything serious. I just wanted a little fling with you, just a one time thing, ya know?"

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because I can't imagine what you must think of me," I began to cry again. I motioned to him, "You're this…big, important, no-nonsense cat. You have always had such a sense of decorum—you always looked at me with such…disdain. How cheap you must think I am—how tawdry!"

"Bomba—"

"Well I'm not, I tell you!" I whirled around angrily. "I don't care what anyone says—I am not trash!"

"I never said you were," he said quietly. Noting my defiant expression, he quickly added, "And I never thought you were, either."

I couldn't help but smile at this; he had read my mind. I just gave a wry shake of my head and turned to go. As I walked away, I suddenly remembered. I whirled around, my face full of worry, "Can you promise me one more thing?"

"What?" Munkustrap stepped forward, awaiting my request.

"Don't tell Dem. Ever. This would break her heart."

"You have my word," Munku gave a reassuring smile. I turned to go once more.

"Oh, and Bomba?"

I turned back to him.

"I had a great time," Munkustrap gave a coy smile—the first time I'd ever seen him smile like that.

"Me too," I returned his seductive grin with a sudden rush of enthusiasm. "Me too."