using Levi’s black cotton shirt like a climbing wall. No biggie. Cats did that and you just pried them off.
Zoe screamed when Marshmallow Pants reached Levi’s chin and bit him. Ouch. That had to sting. Levi was stumbling backward and he connected with the edge of the coffee table. He tripped and fell and the cat went with him as I stood stupidly and blinked. I have crappy reflexes, what can I say? But all I could think was, What the . . . ? Now Isabella was shrieking along with Zoe and I was thinking I really needed to come up with a strategy or actually do something. Levi and the cat were a spilled pile of black and white, Levi on his back, Marshmallow Pants on top of him, hissing and spitting.
Okay, I was slow, but not cruel. Someone had to do something besides scream so I ran forward, figuring I could just shove the cat off. But the sweet, pretty kitty was mauling Levi’s face, swiping rapidly with front claws like he was scratching to the bottom of the litter box. Levi was twisting, his eyes closed to protect them, his hands struggling to disconnect the cat’s claws from his shirt. I pulled and pried, Levi pushed, and together we finally managed to get the cat off of him and onto the carpet. Though the minute the cat was off, he tried to jump right back on Levi.
“Hey!” I yelled, hoping to scare the crazy ball of fur as I shoved him away from Levi again.
Levi sat up, breathing hard, though he looked more mad than scared or hurt. He glared at the cat. “Don’t start with me, Marshmallow Pants .”
The name was spoken with total mockery, and I swear the cat knew he was being dissed because he let out some freaky low growl and tried to take another swipe at Levi. But by then Adam had come over and he picked the cat up with one hand, holding it far away from his own chest as he turned to Zoe. “Does he have a crate?”
“No.”
“Well, then he’s going in your room and we’re closing the door.” Adam carried the cat toward the stairs, and I had to admire his take-charge attitude. It must have been the gladiator costume inspiring him.
I looked at Levi, who was still sitting on the floor. “Are you okay?” He had bloody scratches all over his face and neck. Yikes. Those had to sting.
“I’m fine.” Levi hauled himself off the floor, scowling.
I bit my fingernail, feeling bad and wondering if I should get him a cold washcloth or something. It wasn’t exactly like he could Neosporin his face or slap Band-Aids on or anything, but it seemed like he should at least wash those scratches.
Dirk was staring wide-eyed at Levi, his wrapping paper costume making a wrinkling sound as he moved. “Dude, that was freaky.”
“No big deal.” Levi turned to Zoe, who was crying big wet tears. “Hey, it’s okay, squirt. I’m fine.” He ditched the glare he’d been wearing and picked her up and wiped the tears off her cheeks with the bottom of his sleeve.
God. He could be so cute when he was being sweet. I felt a funny little catch in my gut, like indigestion.
“I’m sorry Marshmallow Pants doesn’t like you,” Zoe said, her words forced out between sobs.
“It’s cool. He just knows the score. He wants to be your favorite, but he knows I already am.” Levi bounced her a little on his hip and gave her a grin. “Right?”
She nodded, sniffling up a mass of mucus. “Uh-huh.”
“So we’ll just have to fight it out and see who wins. But you’re worth the pain.”
“That’s true,” she said, ever modest, my little sister.
Levi laughed. “Alright, time for you to hit the streets and beg for candy. I’m going to wash my face.”
“I’ll help you,” Isabella offered.
Oh, that was subtle.
Levi raised an eyebrow as he set Zoe down. “I’ve got it, thanks.”
But Isabella followed him upstairs anyway, and five pairs of female eyes followed her movement. The guys were oblivious as usual, but Darla, Madison, Jamie, Sara, and Cecily had all made mental notes. They were so going to go home
Zoe screamed when Marshmallow Pants reached Levi’s chin and bit him. Ouch. That had to sting. Levi was stumbling backward and he connected with the edge of the coffee table. He tripped and fell and the cat went with him as I stood stupidly and blinked. I have crappy reflexes, what can I say? But all I could think was, What the . . . ? Now Isabella was shrieking along with Zoe and I was thinking I really needed to come up with a strategy or actually do something. Levi and the cat were a spilled pile of black and white, Levi on his back, Marshmallow Pants on top of him, hissing and spitting.
Okay, I was slow, but not cruel. Someone had to do something besides scream so I ran forward, figuring I could just shove the cat off. But the sweet, pretty kitty was mauling Levi’s face, swiping rapidly with front claws like he was scratching to the bottom of the litter box. Levi was twisting, his eyes closed to protect them, his hands struggling to disconnect the cat’s claws from his shirt. I pulled and pried, Levi pushed, and together we finally managed to get the cat off of him and onto the carpet. Though the minute the cat was off, he tried to jump right back on Levi.
“Hey!” I yelled, hoping to scare the crazy ball of fur as I shoved him away from Levi again.
Levi sat up, breathing hard, though he looked more mad than scared or hurt. He glared at the cat. “Don’t start with me, Marshmallow Pants .”
The name was spoken with total mockery, and I swear the cat knew he was being dissed because he let out some freaky low growl and tried to take another swipe at Levi. But by then Adam had come over and he picked the cat up with one hand, holding it far away from his own chest as he turned to Zoe. “Does he have a crate?”
“No.”
“Well, then he’s going in your room and we’re closing the door.” Adam carried the cat toward the stairs, and I had to admire his take-charge attitude. It must have been the gladiator costume inspiring him.
I looked at Levi, who was still sitting on the floor. “Are you okay?” He had bloody scratches all over his face and neck. Yikes. Those had to sting.
“I’m fine.” Levi hauled himself off the floor, scowling.
I bit my fingernail, feeling bad and wondering if I should get him a cold washcloth or something. It wasn’t exactly like he could Neosporin his face or slap Band-Aids on or anything, but it seemed like he should at least wash those scratches.
Dirk was staring wide-eyed at Levi, his wrapping paper costume making a wrinkling sound as he moved. “Dude, that was freaky.”
“No big deal.” Levi turned to Zoe, who was crying big wet tears. “Hey, it’s okay, squirt. I’m fine.” He ditched the glare he’d been wearing and picked her up and wiped the tears off her cheeks with the bottom of his sleeve.
God. He could be so cute when he was being sweet. I felt a funny little catch in my gut, like indigestion.
“I’m sorry Marshmallow Pants doesn’t like you,” Zoe said, her words forced out between sobs.
“It’s cool. He just knows the score. He wants to be your favorite, but he knows I already am.” Levi bounced her a little on his hip and gave her a grin. “Right?”
She nodded, sniffling up a mass of mucus. “Uh-huh.”
“So we’ll just have to fight it out and see who wins. But you’re worth the pain.”
“That’s true,” she said, ever modest, my little sister.
Levi laughed. “Alright, time for you to hit the streets and beg for candy. I’m going to wash my face.”
“I’ll help you,” Isabella offered.
Oh, that was subtle.
Levi raised an eyebrow as he set Zoe down. “I’ve got it, thanks.”
But Isabella followed him upstairs anyway, and five pairs of female eyes followed her movement. The guys were oblivious as usual, but Darla, Madison, Jamie, Sara, and Cecily had all made mental notes. They were so going to go home
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