Felicia acted normal when I saw her at lunch. None of the girls made any mentions of my date with Brandon, so maybe they hadn't spotted us after all. She also made no mention of her secret plans with me, not even to confirm them or explain where we were going.

By the time my last class ended and I made my way to the school gate, I was honestly ready for anything.

"Perfect timing."

I barely had time to jolt before a hand reached around my wrist, snatching me out of the way and into the street. "Quick, let's go," Felicia told me in a hushed voice. "Chelsea and Louie have other plans, but I still don't want them to catch us."

Struggling to keep up with her long legs, I stumbled after her off the school grounds and around the corner. Felicia looked around, then let go of my wrist as abruptly as she had taken it. "Great! Looks like we escaped," she said. "Follow me!"

"Where are we going?" I asked, falling into stride beside her. Now that she wasn't hurrying to get anywhere, it was easier to keep up with her speed, even if she still had several inches of leg on me.

"My favorite place," she answered. "God, I'm so glad I've got someone to take there again. You know how I asked you if you're allergic to cats?"

I nodded. "What about that?"

"The place we're going to has cats," Felicia explained. "And Chelsea's, like, super allergic to cats even though she loves them, so I can't take her, and if I go with just Louie, Chelsea's gonna be upset. She always says it's no big deal, but, like, seriously? She literally almost died the last time I took her."

I frowned. "Are her allergies that bad?"

"I don't know, but Chelsea has, like, no self-preservation whatsoever." Felicia rolled her eyes. "A normal person would leave when their allergies get bad, but no, she stayed there so long she got a literal asthma attack."

"Oh," I said softly. I'd never had any pets—my parents and I didn't really have time to look after one, between work and school—but I could easily imagine how it had to feel to love something with all your heart and not be allowed to even go near it without getting sick. "I…That's bad, but I think I understand where she's coming from."

Felicia gave me a sidelong glance. "Would you do the same thing or something?"

"Well—I don't know." I looked down. "I don't really have any allergies. But if she really loves cats, it has to be hard…to stay away."

Felicia pondered my words, then she shrugged. "Yeah, I guess it sucks," she said. "But self-preservation comes first, so I still think she's an idiot."

I didn't say anything to that. Sure, from a logical perspective, Felicia was probably right. But to me, some things were worth sacrificing my safety for. I liked the idea of loving someone or something so much that you were willing to sacrifice everything to be with them, even if it destroyed you in the end.

Maybe, I thought, that was how Chelsea felt about cats too.

Thankfully Felicia didn't pursue the topic anymore; instead she led the way through the streets, around a couple corners, striding lightly and easily like a model on the runway, her long blond hair drifting elegantly behind her, never tripping or stumbling despite the height of her heels. I could see people turning their heads at her in passing, men and women, old and young, looking at her like she was a celebrity they could only have dreamed of seeing in person. It made me want to hide, but there was really no need; Felicia was drawing their gazes so much that they barely noticed me next to her anyway.

Then she steered us through the doors of a small café, and I instantly understood why Chelsea couldn't visit this place.

This place was adorable. It was just as sugar-and-spice as Felicia's fashion sense, held entirely in pastels, with a large cat tree standing in the center of the room. At least half a dozen cats, big and small, were either padding around the tables or lounging lazily in the chairs.

"A cat café!" I said, starry-eyed. "I didn't know they had one here!"

Felicia smiled. "I know, right? It's literally the cutest place I've ever seen." She nodded to a round-faced lady in a pastel pink apron, who motioned her to a table for two. "Every been to one before?"

I shook my head. "We didn't have any where I lived," I said as I sat down across from her. "It's so cute!"

There was a bright meow, and a fluffy light brown cat came trotting towards our table, tail held up high into the air. Turning in her seat, Felicia extended a hand, and the cat rubbed its head against her hand, purring loudly and contentedly.

"This is Waffle," she said, picking up the cat against its squeaked protests and setting it down in her lap. "He comes up to everybody."

Careful not to annoy the cat, I reached across the table to pet him. Waffle sniffed my hand, then suffered me to scratch his ears and the back of his neck, still purring.

"He's so friendly," I said with a smile. "He doesn't even know me, but he's letting me do this!"

Felicia snorted. "That's 'cause people give him treats all the time."

Waffle perked up at the word. Looking around, he sniffed Felicia's hands, then her shirt, searching for a snack. When he didn't find anything, he let out a miffed little sound and hopped back on the floor.

For some time the cats left us alone. Felicia turned in her chair, clearly searching for something. The lady in the pink apron came over to take our orders and left us some treats for the cats, and then there was a raspy meow as a dark little creature made its way over to us.

I blinked, wide-eyed. The cat heading towards Felicia was black and scrawny, its fur messy and sticking in every direction. It was missing part of its ear, and it only had three legs, carefully hobbling up to our table and meowing.

Felicia's whole face lit up. Reaching down, she picked up the three-legged little cat, smoothing out the messy fur with her elegant hands. The cat purred contentedly and began to lick her fingers.

"This is Espresso," she said, holding the purring bundle of fur in her arms and not at all caring about the black cat hair on her designer shirt. "I've known him since he was a baby."

"Hello, Espresso," I said softly, reaching out my hand, but the cat flinched away and flattened his ears at me.

"Don't mind him, he has trust issues," Felicia said casually. "He's a rescue, so he's probably been through some bad stuff. Here." She pushed some of her cat treats in my direction. "He never says no to food."

Closing my fingers around the treats, I held out one of them towards Espresso and waited. The cat sniffed, then sniffed again. Then he realized I was offering him food and almost bit my fingers as he chomped down on the treat.

Felicia smiled triumphantly. "Told you."

What an image, I thought as I watched her spoil Espresso in her lap. The glamorous queen bee and the raggedy little rescue cat—how did that even fit together? Felicia seemed like the type to make friends with the most beautiful and elegant cat in the café, and here she was fawning over this battered little bundle of fur that distrusted strangers but adored her right back. Most people would probably have called Espresso ugly, maybe felt sorry for him at best. But Felicia was looking at him like he was genuinely the most beautiful thing in the world.

I wanted to ask her, but I didn't know what to say. After all, how was I supposed to phrase it without sounding rude as hell? It wasn't like there was that much of a reason for me to think she'd like other cats better than Espresso, except for my own shallow impression of her.

But…this suited her, I realized. Felicia was always gorgeous, with her perfect face and perfect body and her flawless hair and makeup, her designer clothes and manicured nails. But right now, petting this three-legged little rescue cat, there was a beauty to her that had nothing to do with her style or her glamour.

Felicia must have noticed my gaze on her, because she finally looked up. "Something on my face?"

A beautiful expression, I thought, but didn't say it out loud. "I didn't know you liked cats so much," I said instead.

Felicia shrugged. "Why not? They're cute," she said casually. "I used to have some as a kid, but if I get one again now I can't bring Chelsea over anymore, and that would be the worst."

I nodded in understanding. "So you keep coming here?"

"All the time." Felicia poked a finger against Espresso's nose, earning herself an indignant squeak. "This guy misses me when I don't visit, but, like, I can't come here that often 'cause I'm always with Louie and Chelsea."

Our drinks and snacks arrived—well, our drinks and Felicia's snack; I hadn't ordered anything to eat. Felicia clearly made that connection as she looked back and forth between me and her own plate of strawberry shortcake.

"Aren't you eating anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I smiled apologetically. "I'm not hungry," I said, which was a complete lie, because I hadn't had much for lunch and I was starving.

Clearly I hadn't been convincing. Felicia narrowed her eyes, then got up and returned with a spare fork that she placed in my hand, her eyes daring me to say anything about it. "I know what you ate for lunch," she said. "So, like, shut up and have some cake. Life's too short not to eat good food."

Easy for you to say, with your body looking like this, I thought. But I was also hungry, and it was free food, and she had already gone to the trouble of getting me a fork. At this point declining it would just be rude.

"Thank you," I said. "But really—let me pay you back, you're paying for the whole cake and not half—"

Felicia waved a dismissive hand. "Shut up," she said around a mouthful of cake. "It's my treat."

"But—"

"Shut up," she insisted. "You're already paying me by coming here with me. So, like, just forget it and eat your cake."

I gave a nod and dug in. For some time we ate quietly, Espresso trying to sneak bites from where he sat in Felicia's lap. At first she was casual about ushering him away with one hand, then he started trying to climb past her hand and onto the table, and we both laughed as we struggled harder and harder to keep him away.

"Is he always like that?" I asked as I narrowly managed to push Espresso's nose away from the cake before he could take a bite. "He's unbelievable!"

"He's a greedy little brat," Felicia said, hastily shoveling the last bite of cake into her mouth. "Good reflexes, by the way."

I laughed nervously. "I'm doing my best," I admitted. "Not as good as him, though."

"Hungry little guy." Felicia hugged him and placed a little kiss on top of his head, then set him gently back down on the floor. "Shut up," she told him. "You've already had your treats, Linda said more is bad for you."

I couldn't see Espresso, but he meowed indignantly. Felicia shrugged in her usual flippant mean girl way. "Deal with it," she said.

Espresso meowed again, then seemed to understand there was no more food to get here and trotted off, to take a nap or to pester the next guests, I wasn't sure. Felicia rolled her eyes and turned back to me. "He's lucky he's so cute," she said. "I can't believe I love him."

I couldn't help a giggle. "Now I know why they say something's like herding cats," I joked.

She groaned, but the corners of her mouth twitched. "They're so sneaky. It would be annoying if it wasn't so funny."

I finished my tea, and she finished her latte. Then she got up to go to the bathroom, and I was left alone with a lot of new impressions.

For some time I just sat there, staring at her empty cup and spacing out. Then something rubbed against my leg, and I looked down to find a sleek blue-gray cat with striking golden eyes looking back up at me.

"Hello," I said quietly, holding out a hand. "Are you looking for treats? Espresso got them all, sorry."

The cat blinked slowly at me and didn't move. I brushed the tips of my fingers over its head, then along its back. It got up, and for a second I thought I had scared it off; but it only rubbed against my legs again, and when I placed a hand against its side I realized it was purring.

"You're so beautiful," I said to the cat, not daring to pick it up but continuing to pet it. "What's your name? Your fur is so soft too."

"That's Blueberry," said a voice over my shoulder.

I jumped, startling the cat in turn. I had been so engrossed in it that I hadn't noticed Felicia coming back at all.

"Blueberry," I repeated as the cat returned to my outstretched hand again. "That's cute."

"I know, right?" Felicia knelt down beside me, and instantly the cat backed away. "I can't believe you got her to like you. She's kind of a bitch."

I blinked, surprised. "Really? She was nice to me."

"And that's weird. She doesn't even like me, and she knows me." Felicia reached out to pet her, and Blueberry padded away to ignore her from a few feet away. "Did you feed her or something?"

I shook my head. "She was just at my leg."

"Seriously?" Felicia looked at me, then at the cat, then back at me, then she shook her head. "That's so weird. But, whatever." She got up. "Can I bring you here more often?"

I glanced over at Blueberry, then at the other cats, and smiled. "Sure!"

It wasn't until I was home again that I realized that, for the entire time at the cat café, I hadn't been scared or anxious around Felicia for a second.