Chapter 35
The First Caress
Jenna
Age seven
“Look, look.” Killian comes rushing up to my friends and me in the school yard during lunch break, hands cupped together.
We all lean in as he carefully stretches his arms toward us and opens his hands to show us what he’s found.
“Ew, disgusting,” Cora blurts at the sight of a small blue and yellow bird that lies still in his hand, only twitching a little.
“Ew, ew, ew,” Sara joins in, grimacing as she takes a quick step back.
“It’s just a bird,” I say, leaning closer to get a better look. My heart aches at the sight of the huddling animal that barely moves.
The girls rush off, and I lift my hand to touch Killian’s. “What happened to it?”
“I found it on the lawn. It was just sitting there, completely still. Someone could have trampled on it. Or hit it with a football.”
“Poor thing. What do you think is wrong with it?”
Killian lifts his gaze to me, a worried look tightening his forehead. “I don’t know. Maybe a broken wing?”
“Should we go find Mrs. Evans?”
“Let’s.”
We head into the main building and saunter down the corridor, almost bumping into Mr. Greene when we both keep leaning over Killian’s hands to see how the bird is doing.
“Watch where you’re going,” Mr. Greene reprimands.
“Sorry,” we say in unison.
“Do you have any pets?” I ask Killian when we’re waiting for Mrs. Evans to finish her lunch in the teacher’s lounge a few minutes later.
He breathes a heavy sigh, regret drawing his expression tight. “No. My mom doesn’t want any. Says it’s too much work. My dad tries to convince her to at least let me have a cat—I overheard them talking the other night—but she says they shed too much and their litterbox stinks. How about you?”
I shake my head. “My mom hates animals. But my nan has three cats. Two of them always sleep in my bed when I go to stay with her.”
“Really?” Killian’s eyes light up with happiness.
“Yeah. It’s the best. They’ll purr when I pet them and push their head against my hand when I stop.” I giggle. “Sometimes I pause just to make them do that head-thing.” I rub my head against Killian’s shoulder, mimicking the movement the cats make.
Killian cups the bird against his stomach to reach up and pet my hair. “Such a good little kitten.”
Laughter keeps bubbling up my throat as I keep rubbing against his shoulder, enjoying his petting.
When I straighten, Killian flashes me a big, warm smile. “I don’t need a kitten when I have you.”
A funny feeling flutters in my stomach. It’s something free and easy.
Like I belong. It’s a feeling I often get around Killian.
When I’m with him, everything is easier, and I can just be myself without worry or restraint.
And when he reaches out to give my head another scratch, I think his warm touch and our shared laughter are the best things I’ve ever felt—even better than Nan’s cats eagerly begging for more petting.