Stolen Jerseys / ✓

2.02: chapter twenty-one

S C O T T

"Why the fuck would a cat need a fishing pole?" I snapped, snatching the toy off of the shelf in front of me. I loosely held it with one hand and turned it to Elle, "This is stupid."

She grinned at me and reached forward, twisting the knob on the side. There was a string hanging out of the edge of the pool, and the more Elle twisted the knob, the lower the string went. And that was when I noticed the toy mouse daggling on the edge.

"It's a toy, you idiot," Elle snickered and grabbed in from my hands, tossing it in the cart (which was already filled with a ridiculous amount of toys), "and we're totally getting that."

Elle and I had been cat shopping four an hour, and I was sure we had gotten too many for Miguel. We'd found a normal-sized cat liter box, but Elle insisted that I should get three bags of cat liter. Because, apparently, you have to change it all the time. So, reluctantly, I grabbed three bags. Elle helped me pick out the cat food, and, after getting a bunch of different cans, I figured we'd be okay for a while.

I was wrong.

Elle dragged us over to the toy sections, and, for the past half-hour, she had been picking out different toys for the cat. I couldn't even imagine why a cat would need a mouse-shaped ball that rung every time you rolled it, but Elle insisted Miguel needed it. Plus, she tossed it in the cart so I didn't really get a say.

Elle grinned and reached forward for another toy and I sighed, walking behind her and putting my hands on her shoulders. Her head whipped around and she shot me a confused look as I gently pulled her back from the shelves and towards our cart.

"Did you see that toy, though?" Elle protested, shrugging off my shoulders and falling into step with me, "Miguel would've loved it!"

I snorted and pushed the cart into line, standing behind the one other customer in the store. It was almost eight and I couldn't fathom why anyone would decide now was a good time to go cat shopping. I wasn't complaining, though, because Elle didn't have a problem going shopping now and I was grateful for that.

I grinned and scratched the back of my neck, yawning loudly, "I'm sure Miguel's gonna appreciate the other toys you made me buy him."

"Kittens love toys." Elle stated, crossing her arms over her chest and shooting me a dry look, "Connor and you are so screwed."

"You're always optimistic," I muttered, and she just grinned back at me.

At that, I raised my eyebrows, shooting her a curious look. Elle had seemed to know the kind of food kittens liked, and the kind of food that was also good for their stomachs. She knew what kind of toys would be good, and even told me that the scented-liter was the best kind. But she never said how she knew that stuff.

"I have a kitten," she said, grabbing the stuff out of our cart and dropping it onto the counter. She turned to me then, eyes lighting up as I loosely held a can of food, "Scott, our kittens can have play-dates!"

I rolled my eyes and scooped up the toys, placing them down on the counter, "No, I'm not letting our kittens hang out. You've probably brain-washed yours into making fun of people's hockey skills."

"They could be BFK," Elle told me, a wide grin on her face. I just quirked an eyebrow in her direction, lips tilting up into a half-smile, "you know? Best friend kittens?"

I busted out in laughter at that, unable to help myself. Elle shot me an unamused grin and I leaned against the counter, resting my forehead against the cool surface as I laughed. I pushed myself up and grinned at her, biting my lip to get from laughing again.