Chapter 7 Scrollr-Shaped Hole #2
An image followed—a drawing in a spiral-bound sketchbook against a blue blanket.
The drawing was, as requested, a cat in a box.
But the box was tiny, like a jewelry box.
Only the cat’s feet fit inside of it. The tiger-striped tabby wore a wry, humanlike smile, which could have been creepy with a different artist, but Knight made it cute.
Me:
I love it!!! You drew a fluff muffin! ?
Knight Errant:
Exactly the phrase I was thinking of
Me:
Secret brain twins??
Knight Errant:
I guess so!
So you like him?
Me:
OMG YES
I LOVE fluff muffin
He is second only to my cat, Lady Zooms-a-Lot
Knight Errant:
That’s the best name!
Pic??
This doesn’t count as your pic for tomorrow btw
I just want to see the magnificent feline that earned that name
Me:
Okay stand by!
Fortunately, I had a ton of photos of Zooms already on my phone. Unfortunately, now that I’d watched one video on photo editing and was therefore an expert, I didn’t think any of them were good enough to show off, in spite of the model’s best efforts.
“Okay, Zooms.” I unwrapped myself from my blankets and knelt at the side of my bed to get a good angle. Then I fluffed up the blankets around her, patted down the covers in front of her, and lined up the bed with the lower third of the grid in the camera app. “Strike a pose,” I instructed.
My cat, as expected, barely moved. For someone named Zooms, she was very sedate.
I took a few pictures anyway. They were all the same: Zooms in a loaf position, chin lifted, and eyes closed like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Must be nice to be you.” I imported one of the photos into the editing app and adjusted the exposure and shadows, but since I barely knew what I was doing, I tried not to mess with it too much. Then I sent it to Knight.
Me:
Here she is!
My pride and joy!
My perfect bb!
LADY ZOOMS-A-LOT!
Knight Errant:
Glorious!
Superb!
An exquisite feline friend!
Me:
Thank you, Knight! ?
I will pass along your praise
A soft knock sounded on the door. It was Victoria with a plate of cheesy chicken, broccoli, and rice. “You’re looking a little better,” she observed. “Good move, washing your face.”
I forced a smile. “Is that for me?”
She set the plate on my nightstand. “Do you need anything else? A hug, maybe?”
I wrinkled my nose, even though I did want one. “I’m good. Thanks.”
She nodded. “I didn’t tell Mom and Dad about the scroll, but you should. I can help if you need.”
“Do I have to?”
She shrugged. “This may shock you, but Mom and Dad have friends, too, and they definitely gossip about us. It’s probably best they hear about it from you.”
My heart sank. I could already see their disappointed faces. And I could practically hear their thoughts about how much easier Victoria had been when she was thirteen, how responsible and thoughtful she’d been, and why couldn’t I be more like my big sister?
But my big sister was right. Deer Hill was small enough that they’d hear about the scroll, the apology on “Four Takes,” or even the cafeteria incident. I needed to think of a way to tell them without making them hate me forever.
“Okay.” I glanced down. “I’ll figure it out.”
“There’s a piece of pie in the fridge.” Then Victoria stepped out, and a few seconds later, I heard her in her room. Her bed creaked, and through the wall I heard her muffled voice. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss, guildies?”
She was playing her game. With her friends. How nice for her.
Well, at least I had Knight.
Knight Errant:
I have to go
Well, crap.
Knight Errant:
But I’m glad you said hi
I don’t know what’s going on with you
You don’t have to tell me
but just so you know … I needed someone to talk to, too
So thanks for texting.
Me:
Thanks for answering.
Good night, Knight.
Knight Errant:
Good night, Cardinal.
Send me a picture tomorrow
“Mrow?” Zooms stood up and stretched all four legs one at a time, then started for the nightstand—and my dinner.
“Wait, no!” I dove for my plate, narrowly avoiding knocking the whole thing onto the floor. Then I stood in the middle of my room to eat, while Zooms stared at me with round yellow eyes, occasionally reaching one hopeful paw toward me.
When I finished, I took the plate to the kitchen and put it in the dishwasher. The fridge did indeed contain the promised piece of pie. I ate it right there so I didn’t have to see Zooms’s pleading face. Cats did not get pie.
It was gone all too soon, though. I turned on the dishwasher and crept past Mom and Dad’s room—I could hear their quiet voices within, talking about the foundation and what it needed, probably—and took care of my nighttime routine.
Tomorrow was going to be a rough day at school.
But … there was Knight.
He’d drawn a picture for me. He wanted me to take a photo for him. He was looking forward to it.
One of the most amazing things about extinction events was the way some species pulled through—maybe because they were clever or well-adapted or just plain lucky. But none of the major extinction events had ever wiped out everything on planet Earth, not even the Great Dying.
In fact, while those events were devastating, they always began a new era, with new species filling the voids old ones left behind.
And now, looking through my texts with Knight, it seemed clear that my catastrophe with the Four Takes was leaving a similar void … and maybe making room for Knight. My future best friend.