Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Liv
My professor’s voice is still trailing off, something about symbolism in post-war Italian sculpture.
My fingers are stained with pen ink because I refuse to use a laptop in class, I like the idea of handwritten notes.
Speaking of, I’ve got three half-finished pages of notes and a doodle of a Roman bust in sunglasses that I’m pretty proud of.
When he dismisses us, I stuff everything into my tote, swing it over my shoulder, and follow the slow trickle of students out of the lecture hall into the crisp afternoon.
Outside, I immediately spot Daphne waiting near the art building steps, a blanket tucked under one arm, paper bags in the other, and a smile splits my face at her surprise visit.
“You’re too cute for your own good, you know?” I tell her as I approach.
She turns to face me, smile wide. “I wanted to have lunch with my best friend the way we used to when we were kids, so sue me.”
I chuckle as we walk toward the quad, arms linked together, before settling under a patch of dappled shade beneath one of the big trees by the fountain.
It’s cooler today, the storm cleared some of the lingering summer heat, and it’s looking like the perfect fall.
Daphne spreads the blanket with practiced flair, and I drop onto it gracelessly, my legs already half-numb from the lecture.
She pulls out two iced teas that I know will be peach flavored, and a brown bag packed with snacks I instantly recognize. PB it’s totally manageable. I can handle it and resist my ass off. Slutty glasses be damned.
“Whatever you say.”
I roll my eyes and look anywhere but her smug grin, which is probably why I catch the movement in the shop window.
Daphne takes a few more steps before she notices I’m no longer beside her. “Liv?”
I’m too busy watching a bundle of kittens, all tangled together in a fluffy knot of snoring cuteness. Mixtures of black and white all form the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“No,” Daphne says, squinting through the glass, too.
“But—”
“You can’t,” she says with a little less conviction this time.
I bet if I push once more, she’d let me.
I press my forehead gently against the cool glass, sighing as one of the kittens shifts in its sleep and lets out a tiny, squeaky snore.
“You can’t just get a cat, you have to consult your roommate. ”
“Oh, come on. I mean… it wouldn’t be the worst idea, right?” I say, unable to tear my gaze away. “Companionship. Stress relief. Fluffy snuggles.”
“It would absolutely be the worst idea. The campus housing you’re moving into in January won’t let you have a cat.”
“I could name it something cool,” I add, ignoring her.
“Like… Frida, or oh, oh, I know, Wednesday Adams.” There’s a pause, and she gives me an exhausted look.
“Because that one is all black fur, and it would totally look adorable dressed up as Wednesday.” Oh my gosh, my brain is in cuteness overdrive.
It takes everything I have not to pull my phone out and start looking online for costumes already.
“We’re not going in.”
I pout. “But… Wednesday… and-and the cuteness. I promise I’d look after her.”
“No.”
“But I’ve been so sad with everything that’s happened…
this would really make me feel better. One small, good thing.
Don’t I deserve one of those? It’d be like an emotional support kitten.
” I blink innocently at her, knowing I don’t need her approval here, but I also need her not to tell Jay yet, so I need her on my side.
Daphne’s hand drags down her face. “I… you… this is such…” she groans, but I grin wide and smug.
“We’re totally going in,” I say, already reaching for the handle.