“Murphy, come here, you gotta see this!” Floyd called out from inside the cave like room.
“Why do you have it so dark in here?” Murphy flipped the light on ignoring the boys’ groans.
Lloyd clapped his hands over his eyes. “Man, we just wanted to show you this first level of our new game. Why’d you have to go and blind us, woman?”
Murphy rolled her eyes. “You seriously need to get some Febreze, guys. It smells like the inside of a Funyuns bag in here.”
Both Floyd and Lloyd turned to her with blank stares. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“So what did you want to show me?” Murphy shook her head. They were a lost cause.
“This,” Floyd jumped out of his computer chair and motioned for Murphy to sit.
Murphy dropped the bags to the floor and sank into the computer chair.
“Okay, so basically, you’re that knight there.” Floyd pointed to a figure on the screen.
“Sir Siegfried,” Lloyd inserted from behind his computer monitor. The boys had pushed their desks together in the middle of the room, so they could face each other. Murphy was surprised she didn’t trip over the wires snaked every which way across the floor. “I named him.”
Murphy nodded. “Sir Siegfried. Right, so what’s the objective?” she asked, hands hovering over the keypad ready to do as instructed.
“The overall objective will be to rescue Princess Buttercup. This is just level one. Each level you will need to collect hidden gems to pay off the trolls and advance to the next level.”
Click, click.
Murphy found a gem and had Sir Siegfried pick it up and put it in his knapsack. Floyd spluttered as Murphy found four more in quick succession. “It’s supposed to be a little bit more challenging than that.”
Murphy smiled keeping her focus on the game at hand. She knew how the twins thought. She had this level in the bag.
“We put a surprise obstacle at the end.” Floyd bragged, taking a gulp of his Red Bull. “It’s ok if it takes you a couple of times to actually get past—”
“Finished,” Murphy cut him off as a cheerful theme jingle played announcing the completion of the level. She spun from the desk, smirking at the look of disbelief on Floyd’s face. She reached into the bottom drawer and pulled out a handful of the peanut butter M&Ms she knew Floyd kept there for her.
“Say what now?” Floyd pushed her out of the chair and slid in it himself, his nose practically shoved against the screen, typing furiously at the keyboard. “That’s impossible.”
“Obviously not, Genius,” Lloyd shot back, chewing on a Red Vine, nose just as close to his monitor.
Murphy popped the M&Ms in her mouth as she hefted the twin’s laundry bag and the other two that she had dropped.
“Hey, Murph,” Lloyd called out, not looking away from his screen. “You might want to check on your boyfriend’s cat.”
“He’s not my—”
“Yeah. Sure,” Lloyd mumbled, mind already focus back on his screen. “Still. The cat.”
Murphy let the door close behind her. Yes. The cat. Fiona. How could she have forgotten?
Fiona had started out as a dare for Tripp. The whole school knew about the contraband cat. How Headmistress Kingfisher hadn’t gotten wind of it — or maybe she had and just chosen to look the other way not wanting to upset her most prized (re: financially beneficial) student. Fiona had been a half-dead stray Tripp and his friends found in town. Jude had bet him twenty bucks that he couldn’t smuggle her into the school, and Nick had doubled down that he couldn’t keep her alive for a month without getting caught. Almost a year later and Murphy felt like she was part of the conspiracy since she took out a bag of used litter to the trash bin weekly and still hadn’t turned him in.
Tripp’s room was just down the hall from the twins. Murphy bit her lip, twisting the master key between her fingers. She was pretty sure this wasn’t what Mrs. P had in mind when she handed it to Murphy. If she did use it, when Tripp woke up, he’d be so thankful that she had kept Fiona alive. He did love that cat. Besides if she didn’t use it things would probably start getting smelly — then he would be found out, and all those months of hiding would be for naught. What had Tripp planned on doing during the break? Now that Murphy knew how close his house was, maybe he had planned on coming back and smuggling her home — or at least making sure she had food and litter changed every few days.
She squeezed the key in her fist. Mind made up, she left the laundry bags in front of the twin’s room. Inserting the key in the lock to Tripp’s room, she pushed the door open. She gagged when stale air smelling of kitty litter and the lingering scent of Tripp’s cologne hit her in the face.
This. This was why she was not an animal fan. The culprit of the horrid stench was nowhere to be found. Murphy silently prayed that she wasn’t going to find a dead cat. That would definitely top the gum wall as the most disgusting thing she had to clean up.
She pushed up her sleeves. She could straighten his room up a bit while she was here. Maybe it wouldn’t require a cleaning crew when Tripp returned to school. And maybe, just maybe, Murphy would be able to help Tripp keep the secret of Fiona just a little longer.
Once Murphy started moving around the room, Fiona sauntered from under the bed, stretching lazily.
The cat tangled herself around Murphy’s ankles. “You hungry, girl?” She knelt to scratch between Fiona’s ears. She let out an agitated meow and batted away Murphy’s hand.
“Ok, ok, calm down. I’ll get your food.” Murphy stood, hands on hips, and surveyed the room. Peeking into the closet, she found the empty food bowl and almost empty water bowl. But where was the cat food hidden?
She looked in the wardrobe, the bottom desk drawer, and behind the nightstand. Nothing. She bent over to look under the bed.
“Bingo.” Shoved under the bed sandwiched between an empty burger wrapper and a rumpled sweater sat a bag of cat food specialized for indoor kittens, top rolled closed. A little further behind that was a clear plastic box with kitty litter.
Murphy slithered under the bed, stretching her five-foot-two frame as far as it would allow, but her fingers just brushed the bag. This bed was way too big. Curling her toes, she pushed herself further under the bed finally grabbing the bag. She pulled it to herself before reaching to grab the box of litter as well, freeing both from their dark prison.
She crawled out from under the bed relieved there wasn’t anyone to witness her very unladylike shimmy. Wiping her hands on the back of her jeans she unrolled the bag making sure it actually was cat food and not just a hiding place for other contraband.
“Hi.”
Murphy screamed and the bag of food flew over her head, raining cat food down around her like a perpetual hailstorm. She turned to find Hank leaning against the desk, hands folded across his chest.
“Wh—what are you doing here?” Murphy pulled down her shirt and pushed her hair behind her ear praying that she didn’t look as horribly disheveled as she felt.
Hank pushed off the desk and reached over and picked a piece of cat food out of her hair, tossing it to the floor. “I just came over to grab some stuff for Tripp. They are bringing him home tomorrow.”
Murphy swiped her hand over her hair, hoping there was no more cat food lodged anywhere (although she was pretty sure there were a couple pieces stuck in her bra). “He woke up?” She asked hopefully.
“Nope,” Hank shook his head. “Mother convinced the hospital, with a large donation, to let her continue his care at home.”
Fiona, not minding that her food was all over the floor, was currently eating as much as she could, as fast as she could. “Hello, you.” Hank bent over and scooped her up. Fiona nipped at him before jumping over his shoulder back to her dinner below. “Okay then.”
“That’s Fiona. She doesn’t really like to be touched.” Murphy hefted the litter and carried it to the litter box.
“Apparently.” Hank held open the trash bag while Murphy dumped th
e old litter. “Why is she in Tripp’s room? I thought pets were against school policy.”
“Totally against school policy. Fiona was a bet, nine months ago.” Murphy shook out new litter. “I think Tripp got a little attached to her, and she hasn’t left.”
“Huh. Of course there would be a bet involved. Still didn’t peg my brother for a cat person.” Hank tied the bag and placed it by the door.
“I don’t think your brother is a cat person. I think he’s just a Fiona person.” Murphy scooped up as much of the cat food back into the bag as she could. She’d vacuum up the rest later. “Do you want to take her home? He’d probably like having her around.”
“Mother would have a cow.” Hank replied, amused. “For one, she’s convinced a cat would eat her face off when she’s sleeping.”
“She does have a point.” Murphy agreed.
Hank shook his head. “Second of all, she’s convinced she’s allergic to them.” He opened the wardrobe and tossed Tripp’s overnight bag onto the bed.
“Is she?” Murphy asked straightening the pillows on Tripp’s bed and pulling the covers tight.
“Is she what?” Hank asked sticking his head out of the wardrobe.
“Allergic to cats?” Murphy asked, putting a pile of dirty clothes in the hallway. Might has well get to them, even if he hadn’t signed up for the extra laundry service.
“Nah. I think that was just an excuse she made when we kids were growing up and wanted a pet.” Hank climbed out of the wardrobe with a pile of rumpled clothes. “Good grief, my brother is a slob.”
Murphy chuckled, silently agreeing, as she straightened the various piles of papers and books on his desk. She was not a fan of slobs. Tripp must have just gotten busy. She made excuses for him in her mind.
Hank folded the clothes and put them in a bag. Murphy added a thick throw to the top. The Harrington’s probably had plenty of throws and blankets, but this one looked worn in. It was obviously a favorite. If the roles were reversed, she knew she’d want something familiar. And since taking Fiona was out …
“Thanks.” Hank said zipping the bag and putting the strap over his shoulder. He stepped over Fiona still chowing down on the leftover food. If she kept going, Murphy wouldn’t have to worry about bringing the vacuum back up later.
“Well, then.” Hank turned to Murphy, thumb looped through the strap across his chest.
Murphy stood, empty pizza boxes and cans of soda from under the bed and in her hands. She felt squirmy under Hank’s gaze. Why was he staring at her?
His eyes narrowed. “Why are you cleaning Tripp’s room? Aren’t there people here that do that?”
Murphy turned to keep Hank from seeing her face turn bright red. She was the “people” that did that. Tossing the trash into a can next to his desk, she wiped her hands on the back of her pants. “Yeah, I guess there are.” She shrugged. He was so going to see through her.
“Tomorrow then.” Hank declared. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”
“What happens at noon?” Murphy asked. There was no way she had made plans with Hank. She told herself yesterday was the last time she would see him or his family. It wasn’t her fault he kept popping up.
Hank grinned at her and bopped his finger on her nose. “Tomorrow at noon, Murphy Cain, is when you learn how to drive.”
After Hank left, Murphy had gathered up the rest of the laundry, but couldn’t stop thinking about Fiona being alone in Tripp’s room. Then again, she might have been thinking about Fiona so that she didn’t have to think about Hank’s stupid declaration that she was going to learn to drive tomorrow. Either way, obsessing over Fiona irked her to no end — especially because they were talking about a cat.
Eventually, Floyd and Lloyd helped her move the contraband kitty, her litter box, food bowl, and random toys down to Murphy’s room. She’d move it all back before the students returned for the start of the new semester. If Tripp wasn’t back then she’d figure something out before Headmistress Kingfisher returned from her holiday. If Fiona was discovered in her room, Murphy would be expelled for sure.
So far, Fiona had been in her new quarters for a little over two hours and she seemed to love exploring. Murphy was trying to play with her by dangling a puff ball attached to a string over the side of her bed, but Fiona was more interested in jumping from the desk, to the bed, disappearing behind the bed, and doing it all over again.
Ignoring the missed calls notification in the corner of the screen of her computer, Murphy tried to open the music app. Fiona had detoured from her route and pounced on the keypad. Which is how she accidentally answered Emmaline’s next call.
“Murphy?”
Murphy groaned internally. She shoved Fiona off her computer and pulled her laptop to her. “Hi, Emmaline.”
“Please don’t tell me that is Fiona the contraband cat.” Emmaline had moved closer to the screen as if that would help her see where Fiona had disappeared to. “In your room.”
“Okay. I won’t.” Murphy didn’t feel like talking. She wasn’t in the mood for the lecture. She already knew everything Emmaline was going to say. Probably nothing Murphy hadn’t already told herself.
Emmaline sat back on her bed, her eyes doing that weird intense thing that she normally reserved for Floyd, Lloyd, and their antics. Murphy and Emmaline went together like Bert and Ernie, peanut butter and jelly, pancakes and syrup. They had never had so much as a disagreement before and the silence between them felt like trying to run with wads of gum stuck to the bottom of her shoes.
“Why is the contraband cat in your room?” Emmaline finally broke the silence.
“I felt bad because she was alone in Tripp’s room.” Fiona finally settled down and curled up on Murphy’s lap almost like she was shielding her from the coming onslaught from Emmaline. “And what else was I supposed to do? I didn’t really feel like ending up with a dead cat in a month. Because you know I’d be the one that would have to clean that up.”
“I don’t know what you were supposed to do. Anything but this.” Emmaline spluttered. “If Mistress Hyde finds out, she’ll kick you out!”
Murphy tugged her hair over her shoulder and started braiding it. “She’s not going to find out.”
“How do you know?” Emmaline crossed her arms.
“She just won’t. I’ll put her back before the Hyde returns.” Murphy held her pinky up to the computer. “Pinky promise.”
Emmaline pursed her lips. “Just be careful.”
“I am.” Murphy dropped her hand and started rubbing in between Fiona’s ears. Fiona purred so loudly Murphy’s lap was vibrating.
“And stop getting attached.” Her friend pointed a finger at the screen in her direction.
When Murphy paused, Fiona jumped off her lap and went back to exploring.
After an uncomfortable silence, Emmaline asked. “Why are you ignoring my calls?”
“I’m not ignoring your calls,” Murphy protested.
“I’ve called four times, and after seeing Fiona and the way you reacted after answering, I’m assuming I owe one to Fiona for being the one to answer my call because you for sure weren’t going to picking up.” Emmaline raised a pretend glass in the air to toast the cat.
“I haven’t been ignoring you on purpose,” Murphy shrugged. It had totally been on purpose. The realization stung. “I’ve just been really busy.”
“Your day off was yesterday, Murphy. It’s not like you have a ton of friends to hang out with or a bursting schedule.” Emmaline winced as she realized what she just said. “Murphy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Murphy felt like she had been punched in the stomach. “Suck eggs, Emmaline. I was busy yesterday. I went to see Tripp again at the hospital. Just trying to be a good friend, and I bumped into Hank and Eloise and we ended up hanging out.” She decided to leave out the fact that she had seen Hank again that morning.
“Who?”
“Tripp’s brother and sister.”
Emmaline’s face brighte
ned. “So, then you did tell his family on Saturday you aren’t really his girlfriend and they were cool with it.”
There it was. The question Murphy had been silently begging Emmaline not to ask. But she knew she would. Which brought her back to why she wasn’t answering her calls. Stupid cat. “No. I haven’t actually. It didn’t come up.”
“It didn’t come up? Murphy, I can’t believe you.”
“What does it matter? I wasn’t planning on seeing them again, but they just keep popping up.”
“So then you tell them!” Emmaline burst out.
“Maybe once Tripp wakes up—”
“Murphy, stop. This isn’t the movies. This is real life. Tripp isn’t going to wake up and declare his undying love for you.” Emmaline slashed into her unfinished fantasy. Sometimes Murphy thought Emmaline knew her too well.
“But it could happen.”
Emmaline’s eyebrows shot up. “No, Murph, it can’t. Besides, you really think Claire will go for that?”
“I don’t care about Claire.” Her shoulders met her ears in a shrug. Right at this moment she didn’t care. She wanted this. Wanted to be part of the in crowd. She wanted the hottest guy in school at her side. Anytime Claire came around, Murphy tried to be the bigger person and walk away, just accept that she wasn’t a part of that crowd.
Okay, she hadn’t tried that hard to tell the Tripp’s family that she wasn’t really his girlfriend, but she had walked away twice. It wasn’t her fault she kept bumping into a Harrington. Maybe it was a sign that the universe wanted them together too. She should just stop fighting it.
Emmaline’s eyes shrunk to slits. “What’s going on, Murphy. This isn’t you. You aren’t a conniving liar.”
Throwing up her arms, Murphy startled Fiona who shot across the room and hid behind her desk. “What if it is? What if this is the real me? The me Tripp could be with.”
“Then I don’t think we can be friends.”
Murphy sucked in a breath. “Whatever, Emmaline.” She slammed her computer shut.
She was done listening. Who cared if she changed a little bit? Like she said, eventually Tripp would wake up, and she would be the one at his side. She could prove that she deserved this life. That she was the girl for him. There was no harm in a little dreaming. Right?
It Happened at Christmas Page 7