Cat's Meow - FGC (2012) #6

You know when you just can’t stop yourself? Your mouth just takes over. Its like you are possessed. Apparently I have a gift in wrecking havoc.  Especially if its to do with my cousin Sasha.  I just never thought it would backfire.

I rattle the tin fence setting Mr Jeffries mongrel dogs off and I skid to a sweet stop. I flick my rip-stick up in a fluid motion into my hand and continue walking. Our ninja cat spots me, spitting and cursing in cat language. I swear the paint on its paws was an accident.

Darn thing attacks me every chance it gets. Like Pink Panther, when that Asian dude leaps out of cupboards at Clouseau. That’s the cat. We have an understanding though.  Sasha. Funny, it has no reason to hate her. It just does.

I hear Sasha and her neurotic BFF whispering to each other.  My brain turns to mush as I realise they are planning what to wear to the school disco.  As if anyone cool ever goes to them.

They’ve got the hots over the new guy. He’s English and looks nothing like Pattinson; despite what the girls think.  He’d be a terrible vampire.  For one thing, there’s too much sun in Australia. 

I put my rip-stick down and creep along the garden bed. Sasha and Miche are laying on the trampoline with their heads are nearly touching.

The cat and I exchange a look silently agreeing on the common foe.  I crawl under the trampoline, lay on my back underneath them, carefully pulling my legs up above me. With a wild yell and a thrust of my legs upward; aimed to hit Sasha between the shoulders, I roar.

The girls scream, are thrown upward and scramble to escape.  I laugh till tears are rolling down my face.

Predictably, Sasha shrieks to her Mum and Miche finds enough composure to glare at me. Another scream sends the cockatoos fleeing the trees as Sasha writhes and flings around, desperate to rid her leg of cat claws. 

Unlike me, it knows when to withdraw with a victory.

“Ya got a real way with the male species, Sasha. They either run away or attack you.”

She clutches her leg. “Must be like your moves with the girls, Tyler. You’re such a loser no-one will go with you to the disco.”

My brain takes a nano nap. My mouth seized control and like watching a train wreck, I couldn’t look away. “You and Miche are moaning about how Mr Muscles Conner won’t give you a second look. Its ‘cause you’re doing it all wrong. You can’t even get him to talk to you. I bet I could if I were a girl. I bet he’d be all over me.”

“You’d be the ugliest girl in the school.  He’d never look at you.”

“Wanna bet?”

She crossed her arms.  “What’s on your mind?”

And that’s when I came up with the idea.

“Don’t cramp my style at the disco.”  I faked a claw and scratched at her. “Meow. Gloves are off.” 

If only I’d thought a bit more about it. Being a girl, even for the evening was tougher than I’d imagined. I clonked up the pavement towards the school’s multipurpose hall. How anyone could wear heels for any length of time and still smile was beyond me.

My legs itched; even though I’d rubbed a bottle of lotion in after I’d shaved. I went through three of Aunty Jan’s blades getting them hair free.  My eyelids felt like they had cement bats glues to them. I wanted to swat the annoying fly from my face but knew it was just the falsies doing their alluring job.

I caught a look of Sasha’s screwed up face. “What? Is my skirt too short? How do my legs look? My mascara smudged?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Meow, you’re jealous.”  I adjusted my tissue filled bra. I hoped I hadn’t gone too far. “Admit it. I look hot.” 

“You’re an idiot Tyler.  Everyone is going to know its you.”

I gave my little beaded purse a twirl. “Not if don’t blow my cover.” I blew a Marilyn air kiss with lips so glossed they shone like a beacon in the streetlight.  “Cuz.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Don’t come near me.”

“And the bet?”

“Slave for a week to the one who gets Conner to talk to them first.  He’s got to think you are a girl and its real.. You know talking; not boy stuff about - whatever boys talk about.”

“Farts, toilets;”

“Boys are so stupid.”

I pull my skirt straight and pat the extensions in my hairsprayed to-an-inch of of-its-life hair. “I couldn't agree more. Lets roll.”

“Me first. I’m not walking in with you.”

I pull out a lipstick and mirror and pretend to apply more as I watch her disappear up the stairs. As the doors open, thumping music spews outward but quickly stops as the doors swing close and I am left on the street.

“Hello stranger.”

I drop my mirror with a clatter. Shit, what if someone does recognise me? I’ll be the laughing stock of Gordenville College.  I still had years left at school. 

Cooly, I bend over to pick it up. A hand swoops down and clasps mine. I stand up sharply to look into the pale eyes of Conner.

“You seem to have dropped something.” His voice low and gravelly. A put on for sure. A waft of aftershave clutches at my throat. I nearly gag.

“Were you waiting for me or do you make a habit of hanging around looking beautiful?”  I gulped. He was good.

“I’m Conner. I don’t think I’ve seen you around?”

“Tyl - Tilly.” I managed. “I’m - ah - new.”

I nearly laugh. This bet was nearly too easy to win. I just needed to get Sasha to see me talking to him and I’d have her scrubbing my footy boots with her toothbrush all week. 

“Me too.” With a lopsided smile he cocks an eye at me and holds out an arm. “Well, Tyl-tilly, you plan on waiting out here all night or would you like to come in to the disco with me?” 

Even I am impressed at how smooth this guy is. What a sleaze.  I can’t believe the girls don’t see straight through him.

The door opens for us and we are thrust in the darkness of the hall. Flashing lights illuminate the stage sporadically as the DJ attempts to grind to the pathetic music on loop.

All eyes zero in us as we enter. Conner nods to his adoring fans, acknowledging another trophy.  I notice he marks a ‘1’ up with a finger behind me to his gang. They all elbow each other and laugh. I flush. What a bunch of jerks.  

He twirls me around his arm. The niggle of dislike I have is beginning to germinate into one of nausea and repulsion. 

I spot Sasha near the drinks table. Her mouth is a perfect O. I should walk away and claim my weeks slave labour. I hold two fingers up to her and mouth “Double dare for a dance?” Her eyebrows nearly meet in the middle as she scowls at me. 

I pull Conner into the middle, but realise I’ve never danced before. The DJ is relieved someone is on the dance floor and turns up his lame music. Conner begins gyrating his hips as his mouth forms a grotesque mask of concentration. I remember watching my aunt doing Zumba. She looked ridiculous, but Uncle Mick’s voice was an octave higher after she’d finished and we got to stay up late and eat pizza while they vacuumed their bedroom. 

I shake my butt. Conner grins at me. I wriggle and shimmy my chest so violently a tissue breaks free. I quickly stamp on it and clap. I add a few more stamps for good measure. His gang hoot from the side.

The song finishes and he collects me at the waist. “Loving some of your moves babe.”

I attempt a carefree laugh, but its caught in my throat and I gargle and cough. I think there was a bit of vomit. Sasha face has twisted into a mask of hate. I twirl over to her. “Frowning gives you wrinkles and no-one will go out with someone who has the face of a Pekinese dog sucking a lemon.” 

“You suck Tyler.”

“I got the moves and you’re just jealous.” 

I was giddy with power and nothing could shut my mouth from running me into more trouble than I could get away from now. 

“Well. Conner locked you as his target. Good luck.”

I took a swig of her coke. “What da ya mean?”

“He won’t take no.”  She grabbed her coke back. “Can’t wait to hear how you end up. Meow”

“Another dance, or will we have a walk outside?” I feel an icy hand of dread scrape its way down my spine as he nuzzles my neck.

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This was written in response to Write Anything's Form and Genre Challenge ,  Comedy  of  1500 words  This was submitted for #6 of FGC. 

Word count 1504 words

This  was also submitted to Friday Flash.