Chapter 3
She almost overslept.
The other girls in the house were both a little peeved at her and intensely curious, because she stayed on the phone almost all night with Kit.
They talked about everything, the slightest things that would cross their minds. They talked about likes, dislikes, movies, books, TV (though Kit didn't watch TV). She talked about school. He talked about living on the road. She talked about Cincinnati and her family. He talked about how life had been just after he'd been disowned. The only thing he wouldn't talk about was his family, and she didn't press him. She could tell that he was very uncomfortable with the subject. All she really learned from him was what little he revealed while talking about other things. He had a sister named Vil, who ran the family business. His father and him had been fighting since he was twelve, and he was disowned at sixteen because he refused to go into the family business. She had no idea what that family business was, but given he was from Boston and was from a stuck-up, purist family, she was betting that his family had some money and ran something like a jeweler's shop or something.
His sister seemed to have money. That expensive Sabletech laptop was a Christmas present from her, he'd told her.
They talked, and talked, and talked. For hours, they talked, and the more they talked, the more interesting he was to her. He was very smart, and he was very kind and thoughtful, and though he hated his family, he loved his sister deeply. He loved hamburgers and scary movies. He was a strategy game fanatic, from chess to computer games. He loved to read. He loved to sit and listen to people tell stories, and write them down. And he really loved music. He was learning to play the guitar, he'd said, and he liked to sing karaoke and at open mic nights. She could tell that he was a very strong fox, strong convictions and willful, but not stubborn or obstinate. He had his opinions, but would listen to the opinions of others, then loved to debate the points of those opinions. They'd spent almost an hour arguing about Vonnagut's works, and though he was hard to sway from his viewpoint–which was all wrong!–he listened respectfully to her point of view.
He was such an enigma! Strong, yet willing to bend. Opinionated, yet open to others trying to sway him. He was very laid back, but had very strong views about politics and government. He was a delight to talk to, an intelligent, well-traveled fox who could tell a sad story about some of the people he'd met, then make her laugh herself silly telling stories he was told from those very same people.
They talked until after midnight, and the only reason they had to quit was because Kit's cellphone battery was almost dead! If not for that, she felt they would have talked all night long. After she reluctantly got off the phone, she realized she'd not done a whit of homework!
It made for a long night, and almost no sleep. She dragged herself out of bed and saw she was a fright, but it was too late for a shower. She resorted to a female's best friend… lots and lots of hair spray. She threw on whatever she had at hand and rushed downstairs, where Sandy, Sam, and two other sorority members, a gray wolf named Charlotte and a rabbit named Lisa were sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. As usual, Sam had her USA Today at hand, reading the news. It was a morning tradition for her. "Hold it right there!" Sandy boomed. "You tie up the phone all night, and think you're gonna sneak out of here without a word? What did you talk about?"
Jessie giggled. "What didn't we talk about is the better question," she grinned coyly. "The only reason we stopped is cause his cell battery died!"
Sandy laughed. "I'm sure it's charged back up by now," she hinted.
"Yeah, but he's starting a new job today," Jessie said with sincere regret. "He's already out and about, and I don't want to disturb him. He said he had to go to an internet hot spot and do some research for work before he got there, so he can haggle a good salary out of his new boss."
"Ooh, where's he working?"
"You ever read Lone Star?"
Sandy nodded. "I've seen some copies of it on campus. It looked pretty good."
"That's where he's working. He said that his main job is going to be doing research, but it's a small staff, so he might have to write articles sometimes and act like a reporter. When they need it."
Sam snapped her paper, then looked carefully at the new section she picked up. "JD," she said seriously. "What did you say his sister's name was?"
"Vil," she answered.
"As in Vilenne? Vilenne Vulpan?"
"He never told me his last name," she said. "He said it's one of those things he'd explain later, when he was more comfortable with it. But he never called her Vilenne. He just said her name was Vil. Why?"
"Because I think she's in the paper," she said seriously. "Look at this."
Jessie leaned over Sam and looked where she was pointing. It was a picture of a vixen sitting on the edge of a glass top desk, a computer monitor behind her, legs crossed demurely and leaning on her right paw. She was a very attractive vixen, Jessie noted. "So?" she asked.
"Look at her eyes."
Jessie did, and she gasped.
Her right eye was green, and her left eye was amber. Just like Kit's!
The caption of the photo read Vilenne Vulpan, 4th generation CEO of Vulpan Shipyards, in her Boston office. The title of the article was New Blood In An Old Chair: The Youngest Fortune 500 CEO.
"It can't be!" Sandy said in shock. "Kit's a Vulpan?"
"Who are Vulpans?" Lisa asked.
"The Vulpans are one of the richest and most powerful families in America," Sam answered her. "They have more money than some third world nations. You've heard of the Kennedys? Well, the Vulpans are like the Kennedys, but they never got into politics."
"Wow," Lisa breathed.
She remembered what he said on Sunday. It's not the whole truth. It's just a part of the truth that will help me explain things rationally, he said. Because the truth is so outlandish that even if I heard it, I wouldn't believe it.
Outlandish. Kit, the son of one of the richest families in America, but he was disowned, homeless, and up until today was washing dishes for a living… that was outlandish alright.
Then, in a flash, an image. Months ago, a magazine. She remembered seeing a picture of a fox with two different colored eyes, missing his left ear, walking out of a cemetery. Was that where she thought she'd seen him from?
It could have been the funeral of his father, the father he hated. I just had to be there, he told her last night. I had to see them put him in the ground and know that he was dead and buried.
"Sam. Can I borrow your laptop a minute?" she asked.
"Why?"
"Kit gave me a website where he said I could read his capstone, and he was kinda embarrassed because he said his capstone had his full name on it."
"Oh. Ohh! Sam!" Sandy said in excitement.
"On it!" she said, literally running out of the kitchen. She returned a moment later and plopped it on the table. "What's the address?"
"He didn't say exactly, just that U-Mass kept all capstones in their E-library. And I know the title of his capstone."
"Easy enough. Google is a femme's best friend," she said with a chuckle. The four others crowded over her shoulders. A few mouse clicks brought up the University of Massachusetts main page, and she quickly found her way over to the library page. She clicked the search box and cracked her knuckles. "Alright, JD, what is it?"
"Two nations, one fate, Rome and America."
She typed that in and hit enter. Immediately they got a response. Sam clicked on the link, and they were looking at a .pdf file showing a cover page of a capstone paper, the title reading America and Rome: Two Nations, One Fate.
"Well, you were close," Charlotte laughed as Sam scrolled down.
There it was. Kitstrom Vulpan.
"Oh my GOD!" Sandy gasped. "He really is a Vulpan! God damn, femme, you hit the jackpot! He must be worth millions!"
"No, he's homeless and broke," Sam said evenly. "JD said he said he was disowned, but that does explain the laptop," she said clinically, rubbing her chin with a finger. "That's a pretty damn expensive laptop."
Jessie looked at his name on the capstone, then looked at the picture of Vilenne Vulpan, with her smart gray skirt and blazer, her slight smile, sitting in the lap of luxury while her brother washed dishes for a living. But then she remember how Kit always seemed to speak of his sister so warmly, so lovingly. He said she'd always been there for him, that she had been the only member of the family to help him when he got hit by the car, and if she sent him the laptop, maybe she did try to look out for him. Maybe it was Kit that refused to take what she offered, but she was always there to help out if something went very wrong, or he was in dire straits. She even remembered what he's said about his phone, my sister makes me carry it around in case I have an emergency.
"Wow!" Lisa sounded. "Jessie, where did you meet him?"
"By sheer luck," Jessie answered. "In that coffee place by Northcross Mall."
"I wonder what it was like for him," Charlotte breathed. "From having all that money, then bam, on the streets. How did he make it? I mean, think about it. He wouldn't know what it was like to live like normal people, not living in his mansion with all his servants."
"Damn, you're right," Sandy said quietly, her eyes drifting to the rabbit.
"It woulda been hard, that's for sure," Sam noted.
It fit. That's why he was so afraid of his family. He said they had a very long arm. Well, if they were that rich, then they probably did. No wonder he was so afraid. The poor fox, he could never feel like he would be free of them!
She went through everything she remembered from last night. Everything he told her fit together neatly with this new little bit of critical information, and everything became more clear. It explained his love for his sister, who had literally saved him from dying on the streets. It explained his almost rabid hatred of his family, who had turned their backs on him and not helped him when he needed it most, when he'd been hit by that car and broke his back. It explained why he was so afraid of his family, because he feared they would lash out at him if he dared to stain the family honor, disowned or not. And since he was no longer part of the family, destitute, he had no real protection from them, no safety. All he had was his sister, who was his lifeline and also his only defense against the rest of his family.
She put her clasped paws to her muzzle and sighed. Oh, God. What a hard six years for him, but he'd come through it a better fox for his hardships. He hadn't lost his kindness to others, and he could still smile and laugh.
What a male!
"JD? JD? You okay?"
"I'm fine, Sandy," she said with a little smile. "This actually makes it all make perfect sense to me now. It explains everything. He was trying to tell me, but he didn't think I'd believe him. I guess I wouldn't have," she admitted honestly. "He was trying to lead me into it, but he was afraid to be honest with me."
"I can see why," Charlotte laughed.
"I need to talk to him," she declared. "Can I have that, Sam?" she asked, pointing at the Money section of the paper, the one with the article. "I think I'll need it."
"Sure." She handed it up and over her shoulder.
"Thanks. I need to go, I'm gonna be late for class."
"Where can I buy that paper, Sam?" Sandy asked quickly.
"Anywhere," she shrugged in reply.
Jessie didn't pay much attention in her morning class, her mind preoccupied with Kit, and what she wanted to tell him. She had to let him know that she knew, and she understood, and it did not bother her. She wanted to see him, wanted to get to know him. She wanted to go see scary movies with him and hide her face in his chest when the monsters jumped out of the shadows. She wanted to walk along the river park with him, paw in paw, talking about nothing in particular. She wanted to go to a bar with him and be embarrassed to death when he pulled her up on stage and made her sing with him.
She wanted to kiss him again.
She waited until lunch before she called him, from a cell phone borrowed from the other Jessie from the house, who had the same European Literature class with her. "Hello?" he answered.
"Kit?"
"Jessie! Hi, how are you?"
"I'm fine. Listen, I know you're busy right now, but when do you get off work?"
"I'm actually off already. When my boss found out I have no home or car, he kicked me out so I could find a place."
"That's nice. Did you get a good salary?"
He laughed. "He was a bit shocked when I went in there with a spreadsheet of researcher's salaries. I made a few concessions to get some immediate help, but all in all I think I got a good salary. Nineteen thousand a year to start, which is about midstream given I don't have any experience, with an adjustment meeting in six months, and a thousand dollar advance so I can afford to get a place of my own. The main thing is, Rick, my boss, he's going to let me use his wife's old second car until I get something of my own."
"That's good. Listen, I want to see you. Can you meet me somewhere?"
"Right now?"
"No, later. I have two more classes today. Do you know the campus well?"
"Not really."
"Okay, here on campus we have a big bookstore, kinda in the middle. Right outside of it, facing the old bell tower, there's this little square that has benches along the sidewalk. Can you meet me there around five thirty? I'll be sitting on one of the benches."
"Sure, I can do that. I should be in the area, I'm concentrating on finding a place within walking distance of the office. That way I can give Rick back his car."
"Okay. Maybe after we talk a while, we can go get some pizza or something?"
"I'd love to."
"Good. I'll see you then."
"I'll be waiting. Bye Jessie."
"Bye-bye." She handed the phone back to Jessica. "Thanks Jessie."
"No, keep it for now," the tiger grinned. "If he gets lost, you might need to call him and guide him. Just put it on silent and don't answer any calls, okay?"
"Sure. Thanks, you're a lifesaver."
"We've been trying to get you a boyfriend for a year, you silly kitty," she laughed. "The whole house has already agreed to do whatever it takes to get you two together."
"Gee, thanks," she said with a slight ruffle of her cheeks, which made Jessica explode with laughter.
Research.
That's what Kit was going to do for a living, and that was exactly what she needed to do.
She started with the article. She read it completely. It was about Vilenne, how she was the youngest of all CEOs running the Forbes 500 list of biggest companies. She was the fourth Vulpan to run the company that was named after her family, Vulpan Shipyards, the biggest shipbuilding corporation in America, and fifth biggest in the world. They built every kind of ship, from speedboats up to aircraft carriers, and had branched out to other areas that mainly supported building ships. Vulpan Steel was the ninth largest steel company in America, its own company, but it was folded into Vulpan Shipyards in some business way Jessie didn't completely understand. She operated both companies, even though they were technically separate from one another. The article focused on the challenges Vilenne faced being both very young and also a female in a the male's world of high-ranking corporate executives, but she'd been groomed for the role. Valedictorian of her class in Harvard, third in her class in Harvard Business College, one of the most prestigious business colleges in the world, and she was also an Oxford scholar. She was a sharp businesswoman, and she'd already increased profits at Vulpan Shipyards in the six months since she'd been at the helm.
There was no mention of the rest of the family or Kit in the article.
After her second class, she hit the computer lab and made Google her best friend too. She looked up the Vulpan family in google, and was stunned to get back over a hundred thousand replies! Googling Kit himself brought back over ten thousand replies! She narrowed down her search, and more or less pieced together what had happened to Kit, using old news stories, gossip columns, and blogs. And everything she found on the internet fit exactly with everything Kit had told her. His being disowned, the accident that broke his back, all of it. And oh my God, how the gossip columns went to town over Kit and his father! They speculated on what had caused Kit to be disowned, and it was all the gossip columns talked about for like a year after it happened. They even sent out photographers and reporters to get pictures and details of the disowned Vulpan trying to make it on his own afterwards. How rude of them, and how cruel, to make his personal pain some kind of sick real-life soap opera to drool over every morning in the paper! It proved he wasn't lying, but it also reinforced his declaration to her that she wouldn't believe him if he told her the truth, that he wouldn't believe it himself if someone told it to him.
After that, she looked into other members of the Vulpan family. It was a pretty big family, with lots of aunts, uncles, grand-aunts and uncles, and cousins by the platoon. And all of them, every single one, had the same eyes as Kit. Their right eyes were green, and their left eyes amber. There was even an article on google about it, calling it the "Vulpan Eyes," a very distinctive family trait that made a Vulpan very distinct from other foxes. Sam would have loved to read that article, it was all about genetics, how it was some kind of dominant genetic trait that bred true through the Vulpan line.
Out of curiosity, she looked up Kit and Vilenne's father, Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan Junior. The obituary said he died of heart failure at 49, and was survived by brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles… and only one child.
God, what a heartless man. Even in death, he wouldn't acknowledge that he had a son.
She ran out of time and had to go to her Fundamentals of Education class, needed for he teaching certificate, but her mind wasn't much on the class. She had all the facts now, so it was just a matter of talking to Kit about it. She knew him pretty well now, after their marathon talk last night, so she had an idea of how to break the subject with him. Direct, to the point, yet with gentleness and tact.
After class, she went down to the bookstore and picked a nice empty bench within sight of the bookstore, but out of the hot August sun. She picked at her blouse and smoothed her jeans, going over it all in her mind over and over. She was impatient, but she was willing to sit there and wait all night for him, knowing that he would be there.
He was late, but he made it. About ten minutes to six, just before she was about to call him, she saw him all but running along the sidewalk by the bookstore. He stopped and looked around, and she waved to him. He waved back, and padded up to the bench quickly. "I'm so sorry," he said, a little out of breath. "I couldn't find a place to park!"
"It's okay," she smiled. "I'm glad you made it. Sit down please?"
"Sure. How was your day?"
"It was… distracting," she told him honestly.
"It was for me too," he said, leaning back on the bench and brushing his hair back. Then he looked at her. "Jessie? Is something wrong?"
She reached down into her backpack, and pulled out the newspaper. She handed it to him. "Kit. This is your sister, isn't it?"
He looked at the picture, and his eyes widened, and he seemed to stiffen up.
"You're Kitstrom Vulpan," she said gently. "From the family that owns Vulpan Shipyards."
He sagged. He buried his face under his paws, and he was almost stock still.
"Kit," she called, putting a paw on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Jessie," he said, not looking at her. "I didn't know how to tell you. I couldn't figure out a way. I didn't think you'd believe me, that a homeless dishwasher was a Vulpan. I was afraid you'd think I was lying to try to impress you, or I was just nuts."
"Well, I'll admit, I was a little shocked when I found this, and then I looked up your name on your capstone and put it together. I remembered that you told me your name was on it. But Kit. Kit, look at me."
He didn't move. She reached under his paws and lifted his head, and she almost melted when she saw that he was tearing up. "Oh, Kit, I'm not angry," she told him immediately. "You warned me yourself that you didn't know how to tell me without sounding outrageous. Outlandish, I think you said," she said with an encouraging smile. "Remember what I told you when you said how your family would react if they knew you were seeing me?"
He nodded silently.
"I haven't changed my mind," she smiled. "I understand, Kit. You're afraid of your family because they're rich, and they can reach down here all the way from Boston and make our lives hell. Well, I'm not going to let them stand in our way, and neither should you. I don't care if you're broke and homeless. I don't care that you're from a rich family. And I really don't care what they think of me."
"I'm, I'm glad you feel that way, Jessie," he said, sniffling a little, leaning down with his elbows on his knees. "Do you know how it feels to like someone, but be so afraid of your own family that you don't do anything about it? To be ruled by a family you hate, but you can never get away from? It makes me feel helpless sometimes, frustrated. Impotent. I've been on my own for six years, but I'm still so afraid of them I won't live my own life because they might disapprove."
"But you did do something about it," she told him. "You went ice skating with me," she said with a smile. "And we talked all night, and I really liked it. And I want to keep seeing you, Kit, no matter what your family thinks of it." She reached out and clasped his paw, and he put his other paw over hers. "I told you I wasn't afraid then, and I'm not afraid now. Even though I know that you were serious, it doesn't matter to me. You're worth the risk. You're worth it. Can you meet me halfway and share the risk with me, Kit?"
He looked over at her, his eyes earnest. "I'd carry you."
"We'll talk about carrying me some other time," she giggled. "Are you okay with it? I know your secret, but I don't care who you were. All I care about is who you are right here, right now. I think you're a handsome, intriguing, wonderful fox, and I want to go out with you, I want to get to know you."
"And I want to get to know you too," he mirrored.
"Well then, I think there was a promise of pizza somewhere in here," she grinned. "But, before we get to the pizza, I think I owe you one more thing."
"What?"
She put her paw on his muzzle, pulled him so he was facing her, then she screwed up her courage and leaned over, and kissed him. She felt him tense up a second in surprise, then lean into her and kiss her back with gentle, sensual enthusiasm. The paw on his muzzle looped around his neck, and she felt him put an paw on her knee and his other paw on her shoulder, but all she could really feel was the warm charge running through her from his kiss.
She broke the kiss slowly, then pushed back to gaze into his eyes for a long moment. Then she smiled. "Well, I'm not going to run away on you like you did on me," she winked. "Unless you think I was too forward," she giggled.
"No, forward away," he said, a little breathlessly. "You're a fantastic kisser, Jessie."
She laughed, leaning against him. "So, how does pizza sound? My treat."
"That sounds great. Uh, isn't that Sandy?" he asked, pointing.
She looked over by the bookstore, and saw all her sorority sisters over there, in a big group, all of them clapping and cheering. Her cheek fur stood straight out, and she buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh my God!" she cried. "This is so embarrassing!"
He laughed. "You certainly weren't very shy a moment ago."
She looked up at him. "You know, it's the strangest thing. Last night I was scared to call you, because I was too shy. But then Sam comes in and says that you nearly knocked her down in front of Burger King, and said that she overheard you talking to your sister on the phone, that you were so excited about getting the job, and you mentioned my name and were dying waiting for me to call you. I was touched, Kit, really. And then I wasn't nervous at all about the idea of talking to you. I don't know why. I would have been mortified at the idea of kissing some other male, but not you."
"I'm honored you feel that way about me," he said sincerely. "Now, there's one thing we can talk about over pizza."
"What?"
"Getting even with your friends for spying on us," he said, standing up and offering his paw to her.
She laughed, and took it. "I'm sure you have a few ideas?"
"If you want them to hate you forever, sure, I have a few," he winked.
She laughed even harder. Kit picked up her bookbag and slung it over his shoulder, then he turned and gave her friends a Bunny Hill salute, complete with a goofy expression on his face, which made several of them bend over laughing. He put his arm around her shoulder, and she felt just fine being snuggled up close to him as they walked away.
Life was wonderful.
Kit woke up at the mission at seven, and just laid there replaying last night over and over in his mind. Jessie was, she was… wow. They sat in John's Pizza and had dinner and talked, then, after two wonderful hours, he walked her back to her sorority house. She invited him in, but he felt that it would be best not to get grilled by all her friends, so he declined. They kissed again on the porch, a long, passionate, soul-engaging kiss that made his knees a little rubbery when she showed mercy on him. She admitted with a laugh that he was murdering her grades, so he told her to call him only when she felt comfortable. He was patient, and he'd be there when she was ready.
She called him before he even got back to the mission. They talked until nearly eleven, when the cell phone's battery squealed in protest, almost out of power.
What a special femme. She knew his secret, and she understood why he felt the way he did. That really meant something to him. It showed she was willing to see it through his eyes, see that his fear was very real. And she wasn't afraid, even knowing the truth. It was so humbling. She was a shy femme, shy and demure, but she had real strength in her, a powerful strength that gave him the courage to finally stand up and shout to the world I WILL LIVE MY OWN LIFE, MY FAMILY BE DAMNED!
He felt humble and honored that she was so interested in him. That she was willing to go out with him, talk with him, be his friend, despite the fact that she knew he had nothing, but was willing to work hard to be something she could be proud of. She was taking such a big chance on him, a homeless dishwasher with a terrible family that would hate her, but she didn't care. He could learn a lot from that female about courage.
But, he had work to do. He had a job, now he needed a home. Rick told him he'd start on Thursday, which gave him a couple of days to track down a place to live. He had to make something of himself. He would not let people say that Jessie Williams was going out with a homeless bum!
He was up and about by eight. He had to walk a while to get to where he'd parked Rick's car, but everything was safe and sound. He drove back to the magazine's office and went up and checked in with Rick, and told him what he had planned, where he was going to go to look for apartments that day.
"You needed to see me, boss?"
"Yeah, here," he said, pushing a box on his desk. "Your business cards."
Kit opened he box and looked at them. There, with the Lone Star logo in the background, was his name. Kit Vulpan, Lone Star Magazine, along with the magazine's telephone number and his very own email address, kit@lonestarmagazine.com.
"Wow, thanks, boss. I've never had business cards before."
"They come in handy. What's with the clothes?"
"Well, this is an office."
"Wear anything that won't get you arrested, we don't care," he grinned. "There's no dress code here. Now, about a place to live. You should look at the area around Bergstrom International," he suggested. "Ever since the base closed and they turned it into an airport, there's some pretty cheap housing out that way."
"It's kinda far out," he said. "And I don't have a car yet."
"I told you you can use mine 'til you get one."
"I know, but, well, I'd like to live close to U.T.," he said. "I have a good reason."
"There's some fine fur strutting around on that campus," Rick grinned.
"Well, there's only one there I care to look at," he explained.
"Ah, say no more." He leaned back in his chair. "Say, since you're here, I have a favor to ask."
"What?"
"I'm gonna run short in next week's print, and I was looking at your journals. I'd like to take the first one and break it up into article-sized pieces and run it every week, kinda like a running story of sorts. I'll pay you for it. That okay with you?"
"Fine with me," he said. "Do you want me to do the editing?"
"Naw, I'll have Barry do it," he said. "But I'll make sure you approve before it goes to press."
"That's fine, Rick. I work here now, I'll do whatever I can for us to make money."
He laughed. "That's the spirit! Now go find a place to live, ya homeless bum!"
"Yes sir!" he said, snapping to attention and saluting Rick outrageously.
He spent most of the day going from apartment to apartment, and blackballing each one. Too small. Too run down. Too many whores strutting up and down the sidewalk outside. Roommates that were too obnoxious. Too far from campus. Too scary. He went through nearly his entire list for the day, when he came across Westwood Apartments, just off Guadalupe. It was only about six blocks from the campus, about nine blocks from the office, and it had assigned parking. He went in and talked to the manager, and to his delight, they had two apartments available, but both of them were two bedrooms. He was about to say his goodbyes, but the manager, a dusky Chihuahua with big eyes named Lupe, stopped him. "Well, think about taking on a roomie, friend," he coaxed. "You ain't even gonna find a one bedroom for seven hundred twenty five anywhere this close to U.T., long as you don't mind not having all the perks some other apartments offer, like broadband and gyms. We may not be cutting edge, but our units are clean, they're big, we have parking, and you won't find nothin' broken in any apartment."
"Well, I could use the other bedroom as an office," he mused. "And seven twenty five is a bit steep for my salary, but I can manage it. And it is close to work."
"You're not a student?"
He shook his head. "I work at Lone Star magazine." He took out one of the business cards that Rick had printed for him and handed it to the Chihuahua.
"Aw, really?" he asked, then he reached under his desk and pulled out a copy of the magazine. "I read it every week," he grinned. "Now, since you work for a magazine I like, friend, how say I knock it down to six fifty a month, long as you promise not to throw no wild parties or be one of those kinds of tenants? I'll put you in the unit across from the rental office, so any prospective tenants see a young professional living here, not a beer-guzzling jock. I'll save money in the long run just cause I don't have to repair nothin'."
"You got a deal," he said immediately.
An hour later, Kit had an apartment. A six month lease at six hundred fifty dollars a month, water included, but he had to pay the other utilities himself. Lupe let him use the office phone book to call to get the electric turned on in his name.
"What, no cable?"
"I don't really watch TV," he answered. "I might talk to them about a cable modem, though. I'll need internet access to do my work."
"They bundle cable TV in with the modem around here," Lupe told him. "You gonna call the phone company, or you use a cell?"
"I use a cell," he affirmed. "Why pay for a phone when I already have one?"
"That's the smart thing," Lupe grinned. "When you gonna move in?"
"Right now," he answered immediately. "The furniture's gonna take some time to filter in, but I'll be honest. I just got this job, and I'm kinda living out of a hotel right now. I'll sleep on the floor as long as it's in my own place."
"Been there done that, bud," Lupe nodded sagely. "I got an extra bed in the show unit. It ain't much, but it's softer than the floor. I'll let you borrow that 'til you get one of your own."
"Hey, that's nice of ya, Lupe. I really appreciate it."
"Hey, no problem. I get the feeling you'll be the kinda tenant we like around here. Quiet and not blowin' crap up."
Kit laughed. "I'll do my best," he grinned. "And I'll make sure to try to work in how cool you are somewhere in the magazine," he added.
Lupe laughed. "Hey, any publicity is good publicity. Let's get it moved into your new place."
And so, Kit was officially no longer homeless. 1642 Guadalupe Avenue, apartment 1-B, with nothing inside it but an old bed with a worn-out mattress with no sheets, blankets, or pillows. But it was his apartment. He wandered around the place, with its tired beige carpeting and vanilla walls, the Venetian blinds on the windows, its fifteen year old appliances in the kitchen, but Lupe was right. The rooms were big, the place was spacious and clean, and his apartment was directly facing the office and show unit. No doubt Lupe was willing to give him a break on the rent to put a tenant he could trust in the unit facing the office, where potential renters could get a bad impression if a visible apartment was occupied by a party animal.
A trip to Wal-Mart fixed some glaring problems. He bought bedding, a pillow, a cheap nightstand table, and an alarm clock. He also bought some food to put in the fridge, cereal and milk, hamburger, tea in coffee maker bags, a coffee pot he could use to make either tea or coffee, and a gallon of spring water to drink. He even remembered the paper plates, bowls, and plastic silverware to hold him over until he could get real ones. He got home, put it all away, then set up the alarm clock, made the bed, and flopped down into it contentedly. He stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, then pulled out his phone to spread the good news.
The first call was to Rick. "Rick here," he answered the direct line that bypassed the receptionist, the gay sheep named Marty.
"Rick, this is Kit. The house hunt's over."
"Great! What did you get?"
"An apartment on Guadalupe. Westwood."
"Ah, they're old, but hey, it's what you wanted. Walking distance."
"Hell yeah. I signed the lease and everything, so I'm golden, but we might have to sneak in a blurb about the apartments for the landlord. He gave me a break on the rent cause I work for the magazine, so we kinda owe him a little," he chuckled. "I'll bring your car back when I get started to work tomorrow."
"Eh, keep it for a bit longer. You're gonna need to move some stuff around for a few weeks. Get all that settled, then you can give the car back. But you will be at work tomorrow. Time to start earning that advance."
"I'm looking forward to it, boss," he said earnestly.
"Nine o'clock, but I'm in the office by eight every morning, so don't feel bad if you show up early," he chuckled.
"I'll be there."
"I got a workstation all ready for ya," he declared. "And bring your laptop, so Mike can add it to the network."
"Will do."
"Now settle in, and I'll see you tomorrow morning. Be good, son."
"Thanks, boss. Night."
"Later there."
Kit hung up, then speed-dialed Vil. "Hello."
"Sis, I got so much news for you," he said immediately.
"Baby bro! Ooooh, I'm all aflutter. So, let's start with the important part. JD?"
"She called me back!" he declared.
"I told you she would!"
"And she saw your picture in the newspaper and guessed at who I am," he declared.
"Oh, she did? What happened?"
"Much to my surprise, she's okay with it," he told her, which made her audibly sigh in relief over the phone. "She told me that she's not afraid of my family, even now that she knows just who they are. I swear, sis, what did I do to get a chance to go out with a femme like her? I guess God's starting to give me a break."
"It's about time he did," she said seriously. "So, have you gone out on a real date yet?"
"Not a date date, but we did go have pizza after she sat me down and told me that she knew."
"Did you kiss her?"
"Yeah. I think I lost track of a few hours afterward."
She laughed. "That's great, Kit, it really is. I'm very happy for you."
"And the other good news, sis, is I am now officially no longer homeless," he announced. "I am talking to you inside my very own apartment."
"That's wonderful!" she said brightly. "What's it like?"
"Not too bad. It's really old, but nothing's on fire, all the appliances work, and there's no holes in the floor."
She laughed. "Furnished?"
"I wish. The landlord's letting me borrow one of the beds out of the show unit 'til I get my own. He's a pretty nice guy. He even gave me a break on the rent cause I work at the magazine, and I won't be some insane party animal. He put me in the apartment right in front of the rental office, so I can make a good impression on the visitors."
She laughed. "Don't blow it, bro. A landlord scorned is almost as bad as a vixen scorned."
"I'm not about to. I start my first day of real work tomorrow. Rick, my boss, he even printed me some business cards."
"Speaking of that, bro, I need your address and number for work, and for your new place," she told him.
"Yeah, sure, hold on. I need the card and my lease. I haven't memorized them yet." He retrieved them. "You ready?"
"Go."
He gave her the address and number of the office, then the address of his apartment. "I'm warning you right now, sis, no surprises. No packages, no nothing."
"I wouldn't do that."
"Bull–"
"Kit! Watch your mouth!"
"You would so do it," he teased.
"Alright, I would do it, but if it bothers you that much, I won't."
"I want to make it on my own, sis," he told her. "I want to see if I can do the real life thing on my own as well as I made it doing the homeless drifter thing."
"I can understand that, bro, I really can. Oh, speaking of money, did you sock it to your boss when you discussed your salary?"
He laughed. "I had a spreadsheet ready for him," he said, which made her laugh delightedly.
"That's my brother!" she told him. "How much?"
"Nineteen thousand a year."
"That's it?"
"For a researcher with no experience, that's more than the average," he said defensively. "And I wrangled some other perks out of him, like him letting me borrow one of his cars for a while."
She giggled. "Good. You didn't tell him your license expired last year, did you?"
"Of course not," he said with a naughty chuckle. "Now that I have a place to live, I'll go get a new license. One with my address on it," he said with a dreamy kind of contentment.
"A great feeling, eh?"
"Ohhh, yeah," he all but purred.
"Kit."
"Yeah sis?"
"I want to come down and see you," she announced. "And I want to meet her."
"Uh, well, she already knows about you, so I guess that wouldn't hurt," he said. "But sis, if you come down here, they're going to know. And they'll find out about her."
"It's going to happen sooner or later, bro. Which would you prefer, now or later?"
"I'd prefer never," he grunted.
"Don't wish for what can never be, bro. Just trust me. I promised you I'd keep them off you, and I'll do just what I promised. But I want to meet this female that has you so smitten she's making a respectable fox out of you."
He laughed helplessly. "By God, I guess she did at that."
"So, I can come down?"
"I can't really stop you if you did."
"That's right. I'm kinda tied up right now, so it won't be until next month. Find a couple of days off and tell me, and I'll work my schedule around it."
"Alright. I guess that gives me a month to get Jessie ready for it."
"Jessie?"
"She doesn't really like me calling her JD unless I'm asking for her on the phone," he chuckled.
"Do you have her number?"
"Yeah."
"Give it to me."
"What? Why?"
"Because I want it," she stated. "If I ever have to find you and you're not answering you phone, I'll have it. And besides, you know I'll just get my hands on it the other way if you don't."
He grunted. "Who's saying you didn't already?"
There was a long pause. "I refuse to answer that question, on account of the grounds that you'll beat me up."
"You did, didn't you! You're asking for it just to cover your ass!"
"Well, I did dig a little," she admitted, a little ruefully.
"You're terrible!"
"No, I'm a sister who wants her brother to be happy, even if I have to put a paw in myself," she said simply. "I didn't use it, little bro. And I wouldn't have unless she didn't call you back within five days. That way I could find her and lead you to her if she didn't call you back."
He wanted to be angry with her, but he knew her, and knew she was saying exactly what she meant. "You're too damn nosy."
"You bet your ass I am where you're concerned," she said without a hint of shame.
"Watch your language," he teased.
She laughed. "So, I'm forgiven?"
"I guess so."
"I'm afraid I'm about out of time, bro," she sighed. "I got a ton of work here to go through. I'm really happy things are starting to work out for you. Really."
"Thanks, Vil. You're the reason I'm here. If not for you, I'd be getting on a bus tomorrow."
"I'm just happy you're happy, Kit. I'll call you this weekend so we can work out when I come down."
"Okay."
"Be good, baby bro. I love you."
"I love you too, sis. Bye."
"Bye-bye."
He closed the phone and dropped it on the bed beside him, then laid back and stared at the ceiling. Maybe things really were working out for him. He had a decent job now, his own apartment, and about a half a mile away, there was a gorgeous cream-colored cat with black ears and mittens that was thinking about him, who knew his secret, and was not afraid of his family.
God, he never knew life could be this good. And there was only the potential for it to get even better.
No matter how enthusiastic he was about his first day of real work, certain ugly realities managed to put a serious damper on his mood.
The first one was the bed. That bed and his back did not get along. He woke up feeling like a pretzel, and it took him almost a half hour to get to the point where he could move without wincing. Clearly, the first thing on the list of things to buy was a heating pad.
The second damper on his day was the fact that he had never considered the possibility that the bathtub wouldn't have a shower curtain. That made a shower out of the question, removing the possibility of aiming the shower head at his lower back and letting the heat work out the pain, and sitting in the tub wouldn't work as well.
So, being that he was out of options for a soothing way to ease the pain, he opted to stop at the Circle K near his apartment and buy a little single-dose pack of Advil. He downed it with a bottle of iced tea, and drove on to the office for his first day of work.
He arrived a bit after eight, wearing the only pair of jeans he had that didn't have a hole in them and a clean tee shirt, and found that the lights were on but only Rick was there. He stopped by Rick's office to announce himself, and Rick gave him the dime tour. The magazine's offices were split into a large central room with workstations around the walls, a large circular table with an inset LCD computer monitor for displaying the magazine layout, and two tiny offices on the far side from Rick's office in the hallway leading to the central room.
To Kit's surprise, one of those offices was his. It was a tiny cubicle-sized space surrounded by boxes and boxes of papers, articles, files, magazines, and books. There was a desk in there with a workstation on it, and a very old leather-bound chair, probably a holdover from the original tenants of the office. "A researcher needs a separate space for all the resource material, and a quiet place where he can dig without distractions," Rick explained. "Besides, until yesterday this was a storage room, so why not put you right in here with the stuff you might have to dig through?"
Kit chuckled. "True."
"The boxes do have a kind of order to them. You'll figure it out as you get the hang of it. You okay?"
Kit grunted, putting his paws on his sides. "The bed my landlord lent me is too soft."
"You have problems with your back?"
He nodded. "It's not really a surprise, if you think about it."
"Yeah, true. You gonna be okay?"
"I need to go buy a heating pad. That helps out quite a bit."
"Say no more. Go ahead and go get one. There's a Target about six blocks from here. Just turn left out of the parking lot, you'll see it on the right. You're just spinning your wheels 'til Mike gets here to set up your laptop anyway."
"Thanks boss, I appreciate it."
He returned with a heating pad, a new coffee mug, and an empty picture frame he fully intended to fill with pictures of Vil and Jessie. He set up his heating pad and sat down in the chair, testing it, when Rick opened the door in front of a dusky raccoon. "Kit, this is Mike Belcher," he said. "He's our resident tech-head, and he runs the website for the magazine. If you have any computer problems, he's the raccoon to see."
"Nice to meet you," he said, standing up and shaking Mike's paw.
"You too. Boss said you have a laptop for me to add to the network?"
"Yeah, hold on." He dug it out of his portfolio and put it on his desk.
"Wow, a Sabletech DV 900! You know your rigs!"
"No, I have a sister who knows people who know about computers," he chuckled ruefully. "She gave it to me for Christmas."
"Well, your sister made a good buy. A little expensive, but it's one serious piece of hardware."
"I'll tell her you said she made a good buy."
"A damn good buy," he said, taking out a memo pad. "It'll just take a second. This run on wireless G or N?"
"No idea."
"I'll look it up," he chuckled. "Don't know much about them, eh?"
"I know how to click on the pretty little pictures, but once you start throwing jargon at me, I'm lost."
Mike laughed. "It's not that hard. I'll teach ya."
"Sounds like a deal to me."
Mike looked up some settings on his laptop and wrote them down on his memo pad. "Alright, it'll be added in about ten minutes."
"That's quick."
"When you know what you're doing, it doesn't take long," he grinned, then he scurried out.
"Mike's damn good," Rick told him as Kit sat back down. "Here."
Rick handed him a file folder. "Ooh, my first assignment?"
"Yep. I want everything you can get on the company and its board. And look up the history of the land in the file, too, so Barry has some good background to go on when he gets his interview."
"You got it." He turned and looked at his monitor, saw the icons for the programs he needed to research, as well as the web browser that would get him to rich data sources like the library and the courthouse. "Shivers," he said with a chuckle. "My first real job since college."
"Welcome to the real world, Kit," Rick grinned. "Now prove I made a good decision when I hired you."
"I'll do my best."
Mike was a chatty fellow, friendly and outgoing, which Kit rather liked. Mike's primary job was maintaining their computer network and the website for the magazine, but he also dealt with the publishing programs, did some photo editing, and basically handled little things the office needed, since he was the fur that usually had the most free time on his paws.
Rick too he liked, because he was intelligent and kind, and had been very good to him. Rick was the main editor, working with his graphic artist Savid to lay out the magazine every week. It was Rick that decided what went into the magazine, and he also dealt with the outside, dealing with advertisers and such. Rick was a very, very busy dingo. It would almost be overwhelming with him deciding to print a weekly magazine, but the magazine only had about twenty pages on the average every week, and they usually had no trouble filling the pages with both content and advertising, That was because Lone Star had a good circulation in Austin, and was just starting to test the waters in College Station and San Antonio. Rick told him that they had enough work backlogged to fill three issues. When Kit called him on it about his journal, he just laughed and admitted that he fibbed a bit, and just thought that running the journal as a weekly feature would be a good draw.
He met Marty later that morning, and found the sheep to be flamboyantly gay, but also a pretty smart guy with a wicked sense of humor that Kit immediately liked. Not only did Marty work as the receptionist, but he also did a lot of the editorial work in conjunction with Rick, proving that Rick wasn't lying when he said that everyone in the office wore more than one hat. Marty's part of the magazine was the mailbag, printing reader letters, going through submissions and deciding which ones would be printed, then editing them a little if they needed to be cut down or had objectionable language that had to be removed.
Barry was one of the two journalists that worked on the magazine. He was a black bear, with an intimidating visage but a soft voice, who was sober, diligent, and from what Rick said, a damn fine reporter. Barry did the "real" news articles that went into the magazine, but also did some lifestyle articles dealing with college life. And now that Kit was there to help him research, he'd get even better. Barry had been doing almost all the research for the magazine, and Kit was there to take the load off of him and let him focus on reporting. Barry was the fur in the office he'd be working with the most.
Lilly was the only female working at the magazine. She was a graduate student in journalism, taking her master's classes at night, cutting her teeth in the industry at Lone Star. She was a red squirrel, with about fifty piercings in her ears and dressed goth, but with a good nose for a story and a finger on the pulse of college nightlife. She was the one that knew what was hot and what wasn't. Lilly handled the magazine articles that dealt with college culture and lifestyle, maintained The Scene section of the magazine that listed all the current hot spots, and she kept track of all the bands that came through town and listed where they were playing. Lilly was also the best photographer they had, and was the one that took most of the important pictures.
Savid was an Indian mongoose that was the assistant layout editor and head graphic artist. He had an atrocious accent, but he was a very good-natured fellow that had a stunning eye for what was artistic. He was the only artist Kit had ever seen that could draw a nearly perfect circle using a computer template board, free-handed.
Jeffrey was a white-furred mouse that was the junior graphic artist. Where Savid focused on designs and graphics, Jeffrey did most of the illustrations and other detailed work. Jeffrey was a talented artist, working mainly on paper and scanning in his work where Savid worked mainly with a template and graphics programs. Jeffrey also wasn't bad at photography, and Lilly was training him in the art so he could more or less take over that role… though Rick was considering hiring a dedicated photographer, much the same way he hired Kit to be a researcher.
Eight furs printing out a weekly magazine. The office was always busy, always a little hectic, it seemed, but the seven furs he was just getting to know all seemed to get along well with each other, and knew what they were doing.
Kit did his best. He finished his Aguavo Construction research job by lunch, of interest to Lone Star because they were going to build a new dorm in an annex just off the campus grounds. He laid down on Rick's desk a sheaf of information about the company, its board members, the land they were about to develop, the blueprints of the proposed building and its past history of the building that had stood on the lot before it was demolished, all neatly cross-indexed and with a table of contents. All it took was a phone book, a pleasant voice, a couple of hours of surfing the public records, and a masterful command of Microsoft Excel and Microsoft Word. Rick opened it up and started leafing through it, and he just kept nodding. "Holy hairballs, Kit, this is damn nice work. And fast."
"Well, everyone goes a million miles an hour around here, boss," he chuckled. "I didn't want to look like I was slacking."
"Son, you're gonna fit in here just fine," he winked. "Lunch!" Rick screamed, startling Kit a little bit.
"Chinese!" Mike called.
"Fast food!" Lilly screamed in reply.
"Lunchbox!" Marty shouted with a funny lilt.
"Uh, what does that mean?" Kit asked.
"What they want for lunch, of course," Rick grinned. "What are you up for?"
"Anything that doesn't squeal when I stick a fork in it," he said.
Rick chuckled. "You can either go out and get something, or call something in and have it delivered. If you do go out, it's policy around here to see if someone wants something brought back, and bring it. Just pay for it and bring the receipt, they'll pay you back. When you get back from lunch, I need some research done on a fraternity on campus that's on probation."
"You got it."
"Rick, advertiser on line one," Marty's voice came in over an intercom on his phone.
"Dammit, work calls," Rick growled, picking up the phone. "You going out for lunch?"
"I think so."
"Pick something up for me. I don't care what. I'm not picky when I'm hungry. Rick Sanders," he said into the phone after pressing a button on its face.
He waved to Rick, then poked his head out into the main office. "I'm going out. Any orders?"
"Chinese!" Mike called. "Little Dragon on Congress, best takeout. Kung Pow chicken and two eggrolls, please."
"I have to go out myself, so I'll pick mine up," Lilly told him.
"Okay. Jeffrey? Savid?"
"No thank you," Savid said with his thick accent.
"I'll go later, but thanks," Jeffrey said with a wave of his paw. He and Savid were bent over looking at a monitor built into the main table, a page layout from the look of it. They went back to discussing something about it.
Kit decided Chinese worked for him too, and picked up lunch. He ate in his office, paging through the file Rick had sent him about the fraternity on his desktop, his chopsticks blurring as he wolfed down beef pepper steak stuffed in the little square cardboard box. He worked through the material. The fraternity was on probation for a party where they allowed underage students to drink, and they got busted by an Campus Police undercover officer. He tossed his garbage, then started working through it to get the information Rick wanted about the members of the Rho Chi Epsilon fraternity. He started with the fraternity website, then called the national headquarters for the fraternity and fished for a list of members. After that, he dug up phone numbers for the parents of some of the members and called around. He didn't ask anything invasive or combative, simply explaining he was doing research on the fraternity that their sons belonged to, and he wanted some honest opinions from them about it.
He worked through the list of information Rick wanted, then cross-indexed it and dumped it into Excel so he could array it and set up a table of contents. Once it was all organized to his satisfaction, he exported it back to Word, then sent the file to Barry's computer. "Barry, that fraternity material's ready!" he shouted from his tiny closet. "I sent it to your desktop!"
"Thanks, dude!"
Rick pulled him out of his office after that and had him work with the others, basically just watching what they did. Rick put him with Mike first, who occupied the other tiny office that hosted five computers and a bunch of computer manuals. Kit sat down with him, and Mike showed him around the website, showed him the page he was building for Kit's bio for the magazine. "We won't come out and say you're a Vulpan Vulpan," he grinned. "Oh yeah, I need a pic of you for the page. He picked up a camera from his desk.
"Rick told you about that, eh?"
"Yeah, you'd think he'd have to, if you think about it," he nodded. "But that's okay, we're cool with it. You do good work for a disowned ex-rich kid," he grinned.
"Thanks."
"Let's take the pic in your office," he said. "Sitting at your desk."
"My office is a mess."
"Yeah, but your office is the office of a researcher. Researchers are supposed to be surrounded by books and junk like that."
Kit laughed. "Point."
Mike snapped a few pictures of him sitting at his desk, turned to look at the camera, then uploaded them into his computer. Kit watched as he threw the picture into Photoshop and cut it down, made a few tweaks to it to make it internet-friendly, then dropped it into the webpage. "There, just that easy," he said with a nod. "Barry's gonna write a bio summary about you that'll go down here," he added, pointing at the empty area to the left and below the picture.
"Cool. I've never seen a webpage being built before."
"It's not that hard. I'll teach you. You seem to know your Microsoft Office. I think you'd do well playing with HTML."
"The legacy of a misspent youth," he grinned.
"I doubt that," he chuckled.
He was put with Barry next. Barry showed him some of the reports he'd done, and walked him through the open projects he had going. "I'm done editing what we're gonna put first in the new piece," he said, bringing up a document. It was from his journals. "We're gonna call it 'through my eyes,' and pick out some of the stories and things you wrote about in the journals. I think it'll do well. You're a pretty good writer."
"Wow, thanks for the complement," Kit said with a slightly goofy smile.
"Rick had me drum up a bio summary on you for the website. Read it over and tell me what you think," he said, tabbing to a new window.
Barry had been kind to him. The bio made no mention of who he was. It simply said he was 22, a graduate of the University of Massachusetts, and he was from Boston. It said that he'd spent time after graduating from U-Mass traveling the country to experience what America had to offer before coming to Lone Star, which was his first real job after college. The bio listed him both as a researcher and a staff writer for the magazine.
"It's really nice. Thanks for kinda not mentioning that."
"They'd think we were lying if we did," Barry grinned, showing off a mouth full of sharp carnivore teeth. Barry had had his teeth sharpened. It was a custom in some parts of the south and west for carnivore furs to sharpen some or all of their teeth, to look more like the carnivores they were. Kit himself didn't do it, but like most foxes, he did have a pretty impressive set of canines. He could deliver a brutal bite if forced to defend himself to that degree. "I think it's kinda cool that you managed to find your own place despite that. I think it was pretty rough going from being a trust fund rich kid to fending for yourself."
"It wasn't fun," he nodded. "But I made it."
"Someday I might have to do an interview about that with ya."
"Well, maybe someday," Kit hedged.
"Hey, no pressure. Whenever you feel like doing it."
"Thanks."
He was placed with Savid and Jeffrey after that. They showed him how they built the basic layout of the magazine in a computer program using the magazine's template style, which Rick would come out and check over and correct from time to time. Savid showed him his graphics he kept on his computer, and Jeffrey drew a quick sketch of Kit and showed it to him. "Wow, that's good for how fast you did it," Kit noted.
"Thanks," the mouse replied. "I do the editorial cartoons we put in the mailbag section, so I have lots of practice."
"Rick, he say you were from Boston," Savid said. "What it like there?"
"Cold in the winter," Kit chuckled. "With lots of trees and gentle rolling hills. The harbor is very pretty in the fall, when you look down from Breeder's Hill and see the riot of fall colors bending with the buildings, and then the blue sea stretching out like a blanket."
"It hot here, like India, but winters are cold."
"Cold-cold, or cold for India cold?"
Savid laughed. "Cold to me cold."
"They're not that bad. It can drop below freezing from time to time, but we don't get snow or nothin'," Jeffrey added.
"Rick say you have rich parents before breaking from family to live by self. You travel to my country?"
"No, I never did get to India," he shook his head. "I did go to Hong Kong and Australia, though."
"Ah, I been to Hong Kong. Amazing city, yes?"
"Yes, it was awesome," Kit agreed.
He sat with Lilly after that, as she showed him The Scene page of the website. "Basically what we put in the magazine gets thrown up here, too," she explained. "This is the only page that Mike doesn't handle himself. I'm still learning the advanced HTML stuff, so he helps me make it look just right, but I do all the content."
"It looks nice."
"Thanks. You like to club?"
"I like to go out sometimes, but I'm not a clubhopper," he answered.
"Too bad. A handsome fox like you? You'd never go home alone, that's for sure."
He laughed. "If I did that, the cat I'm seeing might not be too happy."
"Damn, the cute ones are always taken."
"That's because there's more competition for us," he grinned playfully.
"Least you're not one of those 'not outside my species' types."
"Hell no."
"Good. My last boyfriend had purist folks, and they had a fit when he told them he was dating me. They rode him so hard, I broke up with him just to get them off his back. But we still see each other in secret," she grinned.
The most interesting sit-in had to be with Marty. The sheep had pink streaks in his wool, and he painted his nails. Kit didn't feel self-conscious sitting beside the gay sheep as he showed him his section of the magazine. "I go through the letters people send and decide which ones to print," he said. "I'm a big believer in free speech and different views, obviously," he said with a tilt to his voice that made Kit laugh, "so I like to put as many viewpoints as I can on the page. It's a pretty cool gig. Rick hired me just to be the receptionist at first, but he gave me the mailbag and told me to run with it. He's a great guy. Too bad he's married," he mused. "And not interested."
"He's got an interesting coloration. I've never seen that many colors all random like that on anything but a calico."
"His mother's a dingo and his father's an African wild dog. Can you say clashing fur, honey?"
Kit laughed.
Marty snapped his fingers. "But it does look good on him," he noted. "Just like that eye of yours looks good on you."
Kit chuckled and unconsciously put his paw to the right side of his face. "People do love to stare at it."
"I read that your whole family's the same way."
"Yeah. Everyone descended from my great-grandfather."
"Must make for some killer family pictures."
"It makes the family stand out," he agreed.
"Mmm-mmm-mmm, I should look into a colored contact lens," he noted. "I'd knock 'em dead if I had a blue eye!"
"At least you could take out the lens when you don't want to attract attention."
"Oh, honey, since when does Marty Wexler not want to attract attention! Bring it, honey! I'm a drama queen!" He struck a Madonna-like pose, looking imperiously up at the ceiling, which made Kit nearly fall out of his chair laughing. "So, you coffee or tea?"
"Tea."
"Chinese or Italian?"
"Italian, naturally."
"Treadmill or weights?"
"Treadmill."
"Long walks on the beach, or snuggled up by a fire?"
"Hmm, I'd have to go for the fire."
"Oh, baby! Too bad you're not gay! We'd sync!"
Kit chuckled. He didn't feel self-conscious at all. "Well, you are kinda cute, in a sheep sort of way. If I did swing that way, you'd get a second look."
Marty laughed. "We could play the hunter and the hunted," he grinned. "Oh Kit baby, come raid my chicken coop!"
Kit laughed.
"And I'm glad you're not one of those gay-o-phobes," Marty grinned. "Usually males start shying away when I say things like that."
"Nah, it's cool. I'm not interested and you know it, but that doesn't mean I can't take a joke."
"Oh yeah, we're gonna get along, honey, that we are," Marty said with a nod.
He sat in with Rick after that. Rick talked with him about the magazine for a while, how it made money by relying heavily on advertising, since the magazine was distributed free on the campus and only cost a dollar on news stands out away from the campus and out of town. "Our main income is the advertising," he said as he showed Kit the layout of a page from next week's issue. "The sale price off campus basically just covers the costs of shipping it out. We contract with a printer that's only about a mile from here, and they ship the issues out where I pay to have them sent. They have a few other customers, but we're their biggest, so they go a little further with us than they do with their other customers. If they lost our account, they'd probably go under."
"What kind of fees do you charge?"
"Not that bad. But advertisers are willing to pay for space, because we have a good circulation. Sometimes I have more ads than I have space for them," he chuckled, "but I won't let the magazine get cluttered up with ads. If I did that, I'd lose readers cause they'd feel like they were reading a commercial. I try to keep the fees down so I don't scare the advertisers off. It's something of a juggling act sometimes, and some months the magazine barely breaks even. But hell, as long as it pays all our salaries, that's what matters."
"Amen," Kit chuckled. "Do Savid and Jeffrey do ad work?"
He nodded. "Sometimes they design ads for some of our clients, Jeffrey mainly. Savid's specialty is computer graphics and design, but Jeffrey's much more of an artist than a designer. He's talented."
"I noticed. He whipped out a sketch of me in about five minutes."
"I have him do editorial cartoons and other sketches," he said. "I asked him if he thought he could do a three panel comic strip serial to run in the magazine. He can do it, but he's not very good at writing it. Say, maybe you and him could get together and work something out. You're a good writer, and he's a good artist."
"I wouldn't know how to do something like that," Kit laughed.
"So? It's not like you'd lose anything if it bombs."
"Well, if you want us to try, boss, we'll try."
There was a knock at the door. Kit and Rick looked up, and Kit's heart lurched a little. It was Jessie! She was wearing a U.T. tee shirt, Longhorn Orange, with University of Texas emblazoned across it in white letters, and a pair of jeans with a wide belt hitched over one hip. "Hi," she said with a smile. "I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not!" he said happily. "Rick, this is Jessie Williams. We're going out. Jessie, this is Rick Sanders, my boss."
"It's nice to meet you. Sorry to drop in like this," she said shyly. "But Kit told me where he works, and I wanted to see his office. Is that okay?"
"That's just fine, my dear," Rick said easily. "Come in, come in!" She stepped in, and he shook her hand fondly. "My, you're very beautiful, my dear. Kit can certainly pick a femme."
She looked away with a shy smile, her cheek fur ruffling.
"Show her your office, Kit," Rick urged. "We'll pick this up after you're done."
He gave Rick a grateful smile. "It's not much, Jessie," he chuckled. "Here, it's just across the hall."
"Leave the door open!" Rick called as he led her out. "I'll have no shenanigans going on in the office!"
Jessie's entire face poofed out, and she put her paws to her cheeks. "He didn't!"
"Be glad it wasn't Marty. It would have been worse," Kit laughed.
"You bet it woulda been, honey!" Marty called from the reception desk.
"Well, here it is," he said, showing her into the tiny room. "Sorry that I can't offer to have you sit down, but I'm not sure if there's even another chair under all this mess," he said ruefully.
She giggled. "That's alright. How is your first day?"
"Pretty cool," he said as he sat down at the desk. "I've already got some work done, and I'm learning my way around the office and learning how they put the magazine together. I've never done work like this before, but at least the researching part isn't that bad."
"How do you do that?"
"The internet and a phone book," he answered. "Rick or Barry or Lilly asks me to dig up information on a person or a place or a thing, and I go find it and arrange it so it's easy for them to read and they can find the facts quickly. It's just like writing a paper in school, really. But instead of spending all my time in the library, I spend my time looking things up online or making phone calls."
"And he's good at it!" Barry called from the main room.
Kit chuckled. "Thin walls and an open door. And no doubt they're all in there being quiet so they can eavesdrop on us."
"Busted!" Lilly said melodramatically.
Jenny giggled. "Well, I'm sorry I barged in on you," she apologized. "I should have waited until you were off, but I didn't know when that was."
"Five or so," he told her. "Maybe later if I'm working on something."
"Well," she said, sitting on a box near the door, then squeaking in surprise and jumping up when it shifted under her. "Want to go get something to eat after you're off work?"
He scratched his muzzle. "It might not be a good time, Jessie," he said, with obvious disappointment. "I just got an apartment yesterday, and it's totally empty. I have to go get some stuff for it after work."
"You did? That's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "What's it like?"
"It's a bit old, but it's actually kinda roomy," he said. "The landlord me cut a deal on the rent because I'm not a typical college party animal. Right now, it's totally empty. If not for my landlord's kindness, I woulda slept on the floor last night. Though I might do that tonight," he grunted, putting a paw on his back. "The bed he lent me is too soft. I woke up this morning bowed over like an old geezer."
"Your back, huh?"
He nodded.
"Well, I can go with you," she offered. "Males sometimes forget some of the little things you need to make a home."
"Well, that would be nice. Not much of a date, though," he smiled.
"Who says we need to go out on a date to have fun together?" she challenged. "Spending time with you is spending time with you, Kit, whether we're watching a movie or shopping for dishwasher detergent."
"Point," he chuckled.
"You said you don't have anything at all in the apartment?"
He shook his head. "Just a bed, a nightstand, and an alarm clock."
"Does it have a dishwasher?"
"Yeah. I assume it works."
"Okay. Does it have a shower curtain?"
He laughed. "Nope. And boy did that surprise me when I went to take a shower this morning."
"Okay. I'll go sit down and make up a list of things you'll need, and we'll go get it after you're off."
"Thanks, Jess, really."
"Jess?" she asked.
"Sorry."
"No, no, you can call me Jess," she said with a smile. "It's just nobody ever has before. I kinda like it." She went to the door. "Mister Sanders? Is there somewhere I can sit down?"
"Certainly, my dear, and please, call me Rick. Go pick a chair in the main office. We have a nice big table right in the middle you can use. And don't mind the staff. If they start bugging you, just smack 'em."
"Hey!" Lilly called. "No fair, boss! How can we scope her out if we can't bug her?"
Jessie laughed, her cheek fur ruffling slightly when she looked back to him. "I'll be waiting."
Kit leaned back in his chair, feeling very… content. Jessie was a wonderful femme, caring and thoughtful. Rick beckoned him for his own office–they could see each other from their offices when sitting at their desks–and he went back to his boss' office.
"She's beautiful, son," he said quietly. "And she's very charming. Don't blow it."
"Believe me, I'll do my best not to," he answered vehemently. "You can say that me being here is because of her. I was about to move on when I met her. And, well, here I am."
"Well, if you work out, I'll have to thank her."
"My sis said she's making a respectable fox out of me," he laughed ruefully.
"Nothing wrong with that, Kit," he chuckled. "Now, let me show you our master template. It's the basic layout the entire magazine follows."
In the main office, Jessie had a glowing smile.
So, she was making a respectable fox out of him, was she? Well. She guessed she'd have to make sure he stayed respectable.
"Jessie! Jessie!"
She looked up, then blinked as the red squirrel female with a zillion earrings in her ears snapped a picture of her. "Nice," she beamed, looking at the image captured in the tiny screen on the back of her digital camera. "Kit has an empty picture frame in his office. I'm gonna give him something to put in it."
She smiled shyly. "He does, does he?"
"You bet. Mind if I give him your pic?"
"I'd like that, thank you."
Shopping with Jessie was fun.
She was very thorough. She had a long list of things he'd need for his apartment, from obvious things like a shower curtain and soap and toilet paper, to little things he never considered, like cleaning supplies, a flashlight, a laundry basket, a vacuum cleaner, and a pair of scissors.
"Scissors?" he asked curiously, looking at the list.
"There's nothing worse that not being able to find something you should have," she said simply. "The first time you need those scissors, you're gonna thank me."
"Can't argue with that," he nodded.
They prioritized the list based on his money and his needs. Between the advance Rick gave him and the money he had saved up, he had about six hundred fifty dollars available to spend after paying his rent and deposit for the apartment and the electric company, and holding back the money he needed to live on until his first paycheck. The first thing he needed was a new bed, and for that, they went to Value City Furniture. Kit tested out several beds, which Jessie fretted over the cost. Some of them were more than he had!
"This is a necessary expense, Jess," he told her seriously as he tested a queen-size. "Because of my back. If I don't get a bed my back can handle, I'll wake up every morning feeling like I was tied in a knot."
"Well, yeah, I guess so," she acceded. "I didn't realize they were so expensive."
"Yeah."
What he eventually settled on was a queen size mattress and box springs that ran him nearly three hundred dollars. Instead of a proper bedframe, he instead bought bedrails. The furniture store promised to deliver it to him tomorrow afternoon, which he wasn't too happy about, but that was the best they could do. "I guess I can live with one more night in the other bed," he grunted. "At least I already have a heating pad, and I'll be able to take a hot shower in the morning."
After that, they hit Wal-Mart. Instead of buying sundries, instead, Jessie pushed him straight to the male's wear department. "You can't wear the same jeans every day," she challenged. "You need more clothes!"
"Heh, I need clothes because almost everything I own that I could wear to work is dirty. It'll be expensive to wash clothes that often if I don't expand my wardrobe. My apartment has hookups for them, but they also have a coin-op laundry room for the efficiencies I can use until I get my own."
"Well, I can take your things to my house and wash them for you so it doesn't cost you so much, until you can get a washer and dryer."
"Jessie, you don't have to do that for me."
"I don't have to, but I want to," she told him firmly. "Now let's pick out something nice for you."
After he had three more pairs of jeans and a pack of tee shirts, they tackled the list. They filled a buggy with all manner of things he needed, the top item on the list being a cheap microwave oven. After that important item was secured, they started down the list, from towels to a TV tray and folding chair so he could use his laptop, all the little things one might find in a junk drawer, to clothes hangers for his closet. Kit used a piece of paper to keep careful track of the total cost of everything in the basket so he didn't go over budget, and it was almost like they were a married couple. He got to see what she liked and didn't like as they roamed the aisles, and he found that he liked her taste. She was elegant, yet understood the need for thrift and picked a happy medium between taste and price.
When he got within fifty dollars of the cap, he reined it in. "Alright, we're close to the edge here, Jess," he called. They both leaned against the handle of the cart, looking at the list, noting all the items crossed off of it. He could smell her fur, that lovely scented soap she used, and it was hard to concentrate on what they were doing.
"Well, it's not even half of it," she complained. "That bed really hurt."
"Yeah, but the bed mattered more than the rest of the list," he grunted, scratching his cheek. "Or I'd be showing up at work every morning very grumpy."
She giggled. "Well, it's a start, anyway. Do you cook?"
"I can cook for myself, that's about it," he answered.
"Have you bought any food for the house yet?"
"A little."
"A little isn't going to cut it, mister," she told him with a slight smile. "What is it, cereal and beer?"
He laughed. "Cereal, yes. Beer, no. I don't like beer. I drink wine. I bought cereal and some hamburger, mainly."
"Did you get bread? Or eggs? Did you get some of those disposable salt and pepper shakers to hold you over? Did you buy cooking oil?"
"Uh, no."
"Males," she sighed. "Come on, let's go get you stocked with the necessities," she announced, pushing the cart forward.
"I've been scolded," he remarked with a rueful chuckle, then he followed behind that gorgeous long-haired tail of hers. "At least I remembered the coffee pot!" he called.
"But you didn't buy a frying pan!" she challenged, pointing at the cheap frying pan that was in the basket. "How were you going to cook that hamburger you bought, Kit?" she asked, looking back at him.
He laughed. "Point."
Using what little money he had left, she outfitted him with the bare necessities he'd need to hold him over until he got paid. She picked out basic staples, bread, cheese, lunch meat, cooking oil, and some little cups of yogurt which he rather favored. She told him what he needed, and he picked the brands he preferred.
When he announced they were at the red line for his finances, they stepped back and regarded the shopping cart, which was absolutely full, and rather heavy. She put a finger to her muzzle and regarded it, then brushed her hair back away from her blue eyes. "It doesn't look like three hundred dollars, does it?" she remarked.
"I'm gonna be eating out of a brown bag until I get paid," he chuckled.
"Well, at least now you have what you need to do that," she said, giving him an amused sideways glance.
"Thanks to you, Jess. You were a lifesaver."
"I'm glad I could help."
The cheetah that checked them out was a little intimidated by the cart they pushed up in front of his counter, but he tackled the order with no complaint. Kit watched the prices go by, checking them against his figures, making sure he didn't forget anything and would go over budget. After nearly ten minutes of checking out items, the total came up to $297.38, which was only two cents off what he estimated, because of rounding the sales tax.
"Wow, you were almost dead on," she noted, looking over his shoulder at the notebook.
"Well, anyone in my family is good with numbers," he said modestly as he dug up the cash to pay the cheetah.
"You two must be setting up a new home," the cheetah noted as he took the money.
"Well, I'm helping him settle into a new apartment," Jessie answered with a demure smile. "Males don't know how to shop."
Kit laughed. "I'm glad she came along to hold my paw," he admitted to the cheetah. "I woulda never thought of half of this stuff until I needed it."
"Told you," she grinned.
"You did at that," he agreed with a chuckle.
The one thing they didn't consider was bulk. Rick's second car was a Chevy Cavalier, and it only had so much cargo space. Kit and Jessie had to do a little stuffing to get it all into the car, because of the microwave oven and folding chair taking up so much of the trunk and the garbage can dominating the back seat. In the end, Jessie had to share the footspace of the front seat with the groceries, and had the bag holding the clothes he'd bought in her lap.
He stopped to think a minute. Shopping with her was… wonderful. It was such a mundane thing, and they didn't do much but talk about what they were buying, comparing it, but it was an interesting window into how her mind worked, and he'd had a great time. It just felt, natural, palling around with her as she made fun of his sense of style, and he complained about how expensive some of the things she was putting in the basket were. It wasn't a date, hell, they hadn't really gone on a real date yet, but in some ways, it was even better than a date. He couldn't see who she really was, what kind of female she was, sitting in a movie theater. Going shopping with her had been much more educational.
"What is it, Kit?" she asked, adjusting the bag in her lap as she looked at him.
"Nothing. I had a wonderful time, Jessie. That was almost better than a date."
She laughed. "Well, I had fun too," she told him, reaching over and putting a paw on his shoulder. "But I hope our dates aren't quite that expensive, or you might have to ask your sister for a loan just to go out with me."
He laughed richly. "Knowing my sis, she'd foot the bill herself," he chuckled as he started the car. "Vil likes to try to mother me, Jess. She keeps trying to send me things and send me money between attempts to make me come home, but I won't let her."
"Why not? She's only doing it because she loves you."
"Yeah, but it's also risky for her to do it," he said. "If my family wanted to get anal about it, they could try to claim that she was violating the terms of my bastard father's will. There's a clause in the will that states that any member of the family that's caught helping me forfeits everything they got from him."
"Wow," she breathed, putting a paw to her mouth.
"Yeah. They can't touch the company, though, because she was given the shares that gives her control while he was still alive. And she does have some money that has nothing to do with the family fortune. But she does have a lot of money from the inheritance, and her house, and lots of other things. They all came from the will. If she got disinherited, she wouldn't be homeless and broke, but it would cause a serious disruption in her life, and I won't allow it. I love my sister, Jess, and I won't let her end up with her life turned on its ear because she's been helping me. I'm a grown fox, I can make it on my own. I appreciate her concern for me, I really do, but I have to look out for her as much as she's looked out for me."
"That's very noble of you, Kit."
"Nobility has nothing to do with it," he chuckled. "All I care about is that Vil doesn't ruin her life because of me. So I have to watch out for her."
"Well, I think it's sweet."
"She wants to meet you, you know," he told her.
"I'd like to meet her too."
"That's good, because she wants to come down and see me next month."
"Really?"
"Yeah. She's not sure what days yet. She'll call me back this weekend and set it up."
"That's fine with me, Kit. I'd love to meet her."
"Oh, and I should warn you. She has your telephone number."
"That's okay. I don't mind," she assured him.
They talked about little things as he drove them back towards campus, but she looked around as he turned onto the street on which her sorority house was located. "Where are you going?"
"I'm taking you back to your house."
"Oh, no," she challenged. "I'm not making you carry all this around yourself! Besides, I want to see your apartment."
He chuckled. "Alright, but I'll say now that I warned you."
It wasn't far to his apartment, barely more than a mile. He pulled into his space, and motioned. "Well, here we are," he said. "Home sweet home, or something like that."
"Okay, you go unlock the door and I'll get started."
They took turns ferrying bag after bag into the apartment, storing it up against the walls of the bare domicile for the moment. Jessie carried the trash can he'd bought as he carried in the microwave, then she wiped her brow and looked at he roomy living room. "It's pretty big."
"Yeah, it's a two-bedroom. It's old. I guess they built this place back when space mattered."
"How much?"
"I got a deal on the rent. Six hundred fifty a month, as long as I behave. As you saw, we're right in front of the rental office. The manager, Lupe, he said as long as I don't throw wild parties or blow things up, we have a deal."
She laughed. "I guess I can see his side of it because of all the U.T. students," she agreed. "Well, let's get this mess organized."
She didn't have to help him, but she did. She put the groceries away while he put up the shower curtain. She set up the TV tray and little lawn chair in the corner of the empty living room while he put away the towels in the linen closet and put the fur soap and shampoo in the shower, then set a roll of toilet paper on the spindle by the commode. She seeded a junk drawer in the kitchen with the little odds and ends while he put hangers up in his closet and took the tags off his new clothes. He heard the radio he bought come on in the kitchen, as she tuned it to the local pop station, but he let her go on about it as he unpacked the new sheets for the bed they'd deliver tomorrow and put them in the linen closet. He put the light bulbs she had him buy on the shelf above the sheets, then went back into the living room to start working on the cleaning supplies. He heard a sizzling from the kitchen, and smelled hamburger. He peeked in and saw her standing in front of the electric stove, singing along with the radio as she tended two hamburgers that had just started to brown in the new pan.
"Jessie, you don't have to do that!" he protested.
She looked over at him and smiled. "I'm hungry, you haven't eaten, and I don't know if you know how to cook," she said with a smile.
"Uh, you know, there's only one chair, and I don't have a table."
She laughed. "We can stand and use the counter," she winked. "Can you make us some tea?"
"Of course." He busied himself with setting up his coffee maker to brew a pot of tea, and she pulled the ice trays out of the freezer and filled them with water, her tail ghosting over him and she went around him to put them back. It felt really strange being in the kitchen with her, just making dinner, but hell, this was ten times better than anything else he could have imagined. It just felt right to him to be around her, when it was just the two of them, when he was just being himself, and she was just being herself, and he loved it.
She finished frying the hamburgers, and put them on pieces of bread laid out on Styrofoam plates. "Ketchup?"
"Please," he answered as he poured to plastic cups full of hot tea, and she dug the brand new bottle of ketchup out of a bag and squeezed tight little circles of ketchup onto both burgers.
There was a knock at the door, which surprised him a little bit. He went over and opened it, and found Lupe at the doorway. "Hey, I was just checking to see if you needed anything," he said. "I saw you take all that stuff in, and figured by now you'd know if you forgot somethin'."
Kit laughed. "No, I don't think so. But thanks a lot, Lupe, I appreciate the concern."
"Hey, no prob," he said, putting his paws in his pockets. "Is the cute kitty-cat gonna be rooming with you?"
Kit's fur ruffled a little. "Uh, no, she's just helping me settle in," he answered.
Lupe grinned. "Ah, I got it. I'll leave ya to it, then," he said, then turned and walked back to his own apartment, which was beside the office.
"Who was that?" Jessie asked as he came back to the kitchen.
"My landlord, just seeing if we needed anything," he said.
"That was nice of him," she said, handing him a Styrofoam plate.
"Yeah, he's a pretty good guy," he nodded. "Well, my first real meal in my own place," he said, looking around.
"A little threadbare," she laughed.
"But with wonderful company," he said honestly, looking into her eyes.
Her cheeks ruffled slightly, and she smiled at him. "To independence," she said, holding her hamburger out like a glass of wine.
He laughed and bumped his own burger against hers. "To independence," he agreed, and they both took a big bite out of their burgers.
It was nearly nine when he took her home. They'd enjoyed a plain meal of hamburgers and yogurt cups, with hot tea to wash it down. Then she actually did the dishes for him, washing the pan and spatula she dirtied making dinner while he set up the trash can and threw away their plates. Then, they just roamed the apartment and talked for nearly an hour, about what kind of furniture he wanted, how much it would cost, how he could use the second bedroom as an office for when he brought work home from the magazine, and then she went on a thirty minute tear about the windows, talking about curtains. But, then she realized it was late, and she had homework to do, so he offered to take her home.
All in all, it was a wonderful evening.
He pulled up outside of her sorority house in his boss' car. She unbuckled her seat belt, then looked over at him. "I had a great time, Kit," she told him with a bright, sincere smile. "It was really nice to just hang around with you."
"You were a lifesaver, Jess," he told her. "Thanks for all the help."
"Hey, I can't let my guy run around looking for a pair of scissors when he needs them," she grinned playfully, then she leaned over and kissed him. He literally hummed in his throat as he kissed her, feeling his tail shiver, then she broke her kiss and leaned back with shimmering eyes. "Bring your dirty clothes to work with you tomorrow, and I'll pick them up after school and take them home to wash them for you, okay?"
"You don't have to do that."
"No, but I want to," she said, putting her paw on his shoulder and neck. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kit," she said. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then she opened the door and climbed out. He handed her her backpack, and she lingered her paw over his as she took it from her.
"Have a good night, Jess. And thanks again."
"Any time. Drive safe now. Remember, this isn't your car," she said with a playful wink.
He watched her walk up to her sorority house, a large affair with columns in the front that supported a balcony, upon which he saw Sandy and a collie standing at the rail, looking down. God, she was so beautiful. The door opened before she reached it, and the skunk he'd seen before and a rabbit pulled her inside excitedly.
"Hey Kit!" Sandy shouted from the balcony.
He leaned down so he could see her through the open passenger window. "Hey, Sandy!" he shouted in reply.
"So how did it go?"
"We had a good time!" he shouted in reply.
"What did you two do?"
"We went shopping!" he called, which made her laugh. "I'll talk to ya later, okay? I gotta get home!"
"Sure, see ya later!"
He put the car in gear and pulled away. Yes, he'd had a great time. A fantastic time. A wonderful time. And tomorrow, he'd see her again.
He already couldn't wait.