Twenty-Three
"Cats?"
"Cats."
"Like... Plural?"
I nodded, running my finger over the newspaper print.
"They all need a place to go."
"Amber-"
"Dylan."
Dylan sighed anxiously, sliding the paper away from me and into his own hands. He read the article over again, hoping the words and story would just disappear.
"How many additional people do you think would come in if you had cats to sit with you while you read?"
"Zero."
I glared at him, and he rolled his eyes.
"Pick one. Only one. We'll make it the mascot or something."
I clapped my hands eagerly.
"You won't regret this Apollo."
Dylan's eyes narrowed, folding the newspaper up and handing it back to me.
"Pick a good one."
"They're all good."
We both turned as the front door of the bookstore creaked open. I looked over and saw Tina standing in the doorway.
She wouldn't look at me; only brushing through the isles like they were foreign to her. They probably were; I hadn't seen her set foot into the store in years.
Tina's blonde hair swayed down her back as she darted out of my sight and deeper into the catacomb of books.
Dylan saw me staring and I bit down hard on my lip.
"So a cat?"
"Yeah... Yeah a cat."
