I Am NOT a Catgirl! Ch. 7: The Bomb (Patreon)

Augustine and I sat together at the round table in the small dorm kitchen with a pot of tea between us and an empty glass vial in my hands. Everyone else in our dorm was either already asleep or preparing for the fast-approaching curfew.

Just thirty minutes remained until Augie’s assigned time with Tristan. She stared down into her teacup. “I’m certain that I don’t have to tell you the honor of having a man’s kitten.”

That’s certainly a sentence. I shook my head.

“I feel like I’m betraying everything I’ve ever known. Madame Celestia, Anyona, my mother.”

I circled the rim of my teacup with one finger. Goosebumps prickled over my wrists and forearms, and I shivered. Jesus Christ, it was cold in those dorms. It didn’t help that part of the plan was to wear the stupid red dress. God, I didn’t want Tristan to see me in this thing. But, Augie was right, it made this all seem more intentional should anyone spot me.

I rolled my tongue around my mouth, then sighed. “Augie, we don’t have to do this.” No matter what I wanted or needed, it wasn’t fair to Augie. If she felt like this was her destiny, then she should have it. I could wait. What was a few more months melting everything in Glaze’s kitchen? A few hundred more frustrated glares from Gwendolyn and Gertrude? A few more embarrassing outfits for Ariel to call ‘inspiring’?

Augie lifted her teacup and shook her head. “No. He needs to know. And my mother would have wanted me to stay here.” She placed the rim on her lower lip and chugged the concoction down in three gulps. After replacing the cup on the saucer, she dabbed the edges of her mouth with her napkin and smiled. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Maddie.”

I wish I could have told her the truth. She deserved to know it more than anyone in that damn school. But her eyes and ears were already growing droopy, and she yawned wide. “You’re mine too, Augie.”

Her smile widened as she stretched an arm across the table and rested her head against her bicep. “Good luck…with Tristan.”

I should have figured that potions were an option in catgirl world. Augie had used a chunk of her savings to buy a sleeping potion from the next city over. She’d made a note to give the shopkeeper my name in case Celestia went snooping. It was an airtight plan—and the rest was up to me.

Her soft snores sounded like purring when I slid the bottle into my pocket and left her in the kitchen. I’d insisted to Destiny that the dress would be better with pockets, and I was right.

The hallway was still empty, and the only sound that echoed against the walls was the clicking of my heels. Yes, heels. I didn’t want to think about it for very long.

I hesitated outside of Tristan’s room, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. I counted to five before he opened it.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” Tristan’s sandy blond hair was clean and combed, and he looked far more comfortable in his maroon T-shirt and jeans than I felt in my dress. God, I missed jeans. “Wait, you’re Madeline, right?” His brow furrowed. “I thought I had Augustine on my schedule for tonight?”

“There’s been a change of plans.” I fished a note from my pocket that Augie had meticulously forged using the schedule Celestia had given me as a reference.

Tristan skimmed the paper, and I held my breath.

“Hm. She usually tells me about this stuff.”

I shrugged, afraid of giving away the game.

“Things must be really busy for her lately. I’m sorry to make this weird.” He laughed, and it was uncannily disarming. This kid had max charisma, and it made my heart race. Not good. “Come in.”

As I moved through the doorway and finally exhaled, every conversation I’d carefully rehearsed in my head for two days went to the wayside. He wasn’t so much as trapped in a bedroom as he was pampered in a suite. The place was just as big as my parents’ apartment, furnished with bookshelves, a giant bed, a dining table with two chairs, and an entire section filled with canvases, an easel, and art supplies. A half-painted canvas rested on the easel with a brush haphazardly set on its edge.

But what caught me entirely off guard was a window that spanned the length of the far wall. No, not a window. Because what it showed was impossible. There wasn’t a beach right outside of the school, and the sun had set hours ago.

“Wow, your dress is beautiful.” I hadn’t heard the door close, and Tristan’s voice was right at my ear. “Did you make it?” Soft fingertips trailed down my spine. A new wave of goosebumps rolled down my back, and I shivered.

No. No, no. Not again. “I did.” I cleared my throat and marched toward the ‘window.’ “What is this?”

Tristan grinned and joined me. “It’s Enchanted glass. It shows you any place you can think of.” He raised a hand and touched it to the glass. The beach faded away, soon replaced by a twinkling city skyline on the water. A twang of nostalgia struck my chest, and I took a step back to see it all. The buildings, the Golden Gate Bridge, the cars. Not quite home, but so very close. “Is that San Francisco?” I murmured.

“It is.”

I wanted to jump through the window and dive back into Earth. I didn’t want to be a catgirl anymore. I missed my body, my friends, hell, even my stupid job at Wendy’s. This place was hell. “Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes.” He traced the edges of the buildings, and the lights glittered in his wide blue eyes. “But honestly, I prefer Nyarlea so much more. My life here is amazing.”

“How did you die?” The words escaped me before I could stop them.

“Oh. Um, that doesn’t usually come up in conversations like this.” An uneasy laugh escaped him, and he let his hand fall. “I was homeless, and I couldn’t afford to eat. I just kind of fell asleep and woke up here.”

I flinched. How had that happened to someone so young? Seeing the sadness in his expression, a part of me suddenly understood how carefully guarded Celestia kept him. I’d been a fucking idiot at the gym, and this poor kid couldn’t afford a cheeseburger. My stomach twisted into knots. “I’m sorry, Tristan.”

“No! Don’t be! Please. I’m sorry to bring the mood down. I think Celestia’s the only one who’s ever asked me, so it caught me by surprise.”

“It’s not your fault.” My stupid catgirl body felt suddenly and intensely compelled to comfort him. I moved beside him, and my hand touched his cheek. “I’m glad you’re safe.” A tiny voice that was more Madeline than Matt insisted that this was the “right” thing to do. The “right” way to proceed.

He cupped my hand in his and closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

For a few seconds, both conflicting sides of myself agreed that comforting him was a good thing. Until he turned his face into my touch, kissed my palm, and continued trailing his lips up the inside of my forearm.

Madeline was thrilled. Matt was terrified.

Tristan pulled me closer.

I opened my mouth to protest and gasped when his teeth sank into my shoulder. His arm wrapped around my back, and he fondled my tail the same way he had in the kitchen.

Fuck! I was in a losing battle. I needed to form words, not these airy moans tumbling out of my mouth.

The dress didn’t help—there wasn’t much fabric protecting me, and his free hand easily slid beneath the strip covering my chest.

The excited tension I’d felt before compounded beneath his touch. The throbbing between my legs ached, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears. My arms circled his waist, and my forehead rested against the crook of his neck. Why couldn’t I force myself to stay away from him? Why did I have to comfort him?

Why did this feel so fucking good?

I released the embrace, grabbed Tristan’s wrist, and pulled it away from my chest. “Tristan, s-stop—”

“Too fast?” He shifted his hand to my shoulder.

“Yes, a-and—”

“Hm?” Tristan trailed his fingers down the length of my tail, and my knees quivered. I lifted my head, and the hungry look on his face made my breath catch. He nibbled my lower lip. The first instinct that consumed me was to kiss him in return. And I did. Everything seemed to freeze.

“What else would you like me to do, Madeline?” His breath was hot against my mouth.

My name is not Madeline.

I shoved him off of me and backpedaled, tripping over the stupid heels and falling on my ass. I howled with frustration and kicked off the shoes.

Tristan looked perplexed. He took a step toward me. “Hey, are you okay—”

“No. Stay there. Stay right there.” I scrambled to my feet and took another four steps backward, just in case. “What other options did they give you in purgatory? After you died?”

He blinked and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Shit. “Let me try again, then. My name is Matt Kelmer. I grew up in Washington. I died, and I ended up here.”

Tristan studied me for a long time. “Is this some kind of roleplay?”

“No. I’m serious.” I dragged myself over to his magic mirror-window-thing and slapped my hand against it. San Francisco vanished, replaced by the Seattle skyline. Even if he’d never been there, Nyarlea was not exactly known for its skyscrapers.

Tristan slowly wandered toward it. “Is that the Space Needle?”

“Yes. I was promised I’d come here in my own damn skin, and I’m a fucking catgirl,” I snarled. I wasn’t angry with him—okay, maybe a little bit—but my words came out harsher than I’d intended. “I just want my body back.”

He looked over his shoulder at his expansive book collection and touched his chin. “This is the first time I’ve heard of something like this. Men have always come to Nyarlea as men in everything I’ve read.”

“Great. That helps.” I sighed and noticed the tiny pink marks on my shoulder from his teeth. “Wait. Does it not bother you at all that I’m a guy? All of…this?” I gestured to the markings.

For the first time since I’d arrived, he blushed. “T-that’s beside the point.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer anymore. “Sure. Back to business.” I used the window to hoist myself up to my feet and looked at his bookshelves. “There’s no record of this ever happening at all?”

“I mean, no record that’s contained here in the school. I don’t have every book in Nyarlea.” He shrugged and crossed his arms. “I’d have to go to Nyarlothep for that, and there’s no real reason to leave the school. They need me here.”

Shi Island needs him. Augie’s words trumpeted between my ears, and I swallowed every discomfort I was feeling. I had to help Augie. “There’s a lot of reason to leave. Shi Island’s cities are falling apart.”

“What?” Surprise enveloped his expression. “Celestia’s told me that everyone’s fine—”

“Anyona and Catania were destroyed. The Defiled are everywhere.” Even if I didn’t completely understand the words I was saying, they needed to be said. “From what I’ve learned here, it’s up to you to help them.”

Tristan shuffled to one of the chairs at the table and slumped down into it. “If that’s true…”

I slid the empty bottle from my pocket and placed it on the table. “The truth is, Tristan, I drugged Augustine to be here. I forged the note.” I took two steps back again—I did not want him anywhere near my tail. “Because there are girls who are terrified of being expelled and tossed outside. Even if it means I’m stuck as a fucking catgirl, the rest of them don’t deserve to live a lie.”

“Madel— …Matt, you’re sure? That they’re telling you the truth?”

“Only one way to find out—”

A series of harsh bangs on the door made us both jump, followed by Celestia’s furious voice, “Master Tristan! I apologize for the interruption, but this is an emergency!”

Tristan bolted from his chair to the door. Waiting for him on the other side were a tear-streaked Augie, a triumphantly smiling Veronica, and the head bitch herself.

“It’s true then.” Celestia’s black eyes burrowed into me. “Miss Augustine, we will reschedule you as soon as possible. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss Veronica. As for you, Madeline—”

I looked at Tristan just as he glanced back at me. His shoulders tensed, and he chewed the inside of his cheek. With a quick nod, he turned back to Celestia.

“Celestia, wait.” Tristan held an arm out, barring entry to his room. “We need to talk.”