Hate me

Placing the water on the counter, I rush outside and run around to the basement entrance. Knox said he’d leave it unlocked for me so I can take care of Whiskers, and I’m glad he stayed true to his word. 

“Hey, you.” I pick the little kitty up from her blanket and cuddle her. “Guess who got into Stanford?” 

Whisker’s purrs a little, nuzzling her head under my chin. 

I run my fingers through her fur, which is much softer and healthier than it was when I found her. “At least you’re here for me.” 

Maybe I can convince Knox to let me keep her hidden in the basement for the next few months and save up for an apartment near campus that allows pets. “Would you like to live with me and be my college study buddy?” 

She purrs again, and my heart does a little flip. “And people say cats have attitudes.” 

Not Whiskers. She loves to be loved up on. 

I’m so into our little cuddle sesh, I don’t even realize Knox is home until he’s downstairs. 

“Hey.” Picking up Whisker’s paw so she can wave, I turn around. “Look who—” My mouth drops when I see his puffy eye and bloody lip. “What the fuck happened to you?” 

For once, he’s the one who looks caught off guard. “Nothing.” 

I place Whiskers back on her blanket. “You look like you got into a fight with Mike Tyson…and lost.” 

He walks over to his mini fridge and takes out some kind of protein drink. “Trust me…I wouldn’t lose.” 

“Right, well…something obviously happened to you.” I wave my hand, gesturing for him to fill in the gap, but he doesn’t. 

Turning around, he whips off his shirt and throws it into the hamper. I notice a nasty bruise forming on the side of his stomach. 

“Seriously, Knox. What the fuck happened?” 

He rolls his shoulders and groans, making it clear I’m irritating him.

However, I won’t let up. “Kno—”

“You really want to hear about my hookup?” 

I blink, not understanding. “Your hookup?” 

“The girl I fucked.” His tongue finds his cheek. “She likes it rough.” 

So rough you need to put aside money for a copay afterward? 

“Jesus. That’s…” I shake my head because I don’t even have the words to express how fucked-up that is. 

Knox’s eyes narrow into tiny slits. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.” Bringing his arm up, he sniffs. “I’m go

“I got into Stanford,” I blurt out as he walks up the stairs. 

I hear him come to a full stop. “Great. How long until you and that furball get the fuck out?” 

I raise my middle finger. “Dick.”