Even If You Turned into a Cat...

Tossing and turning in her bed, Layla groaned. She just couldn’t sleep. It was no use. She was awake, and that was the end of it. With a resigned sigh, she sat up and huffed her long, dark hair out of her face. “Prince?” she called quietly. “Where are you, baby cat?” In just a few moments, there was a light pressure of paws on the other end of her bed, and soon enough, a furry head against her shoulder. “Hey, little one,” she cooed. She had adopted Prince a few years back, and the small tabby cat was essentially the only thing she had that was dear to her. Prince licked her hand as Layla petted him, tickling her with his rough tongue, and she laughed. “I wish I had more friends like you,” she whispered. “I’d like to think I don’t need people, but the truth is, only ever talking to a cat can get kind of lonely.” Prince seemed to roll his eyes at her. “Well, sorry! Cats would be perfect, if they could talk back.” At this remark, Prince almost seemed amused, and thwatted her arm with his tail, playfully, as if he was saying, just you wait. “Oh, don’t act like you know something I don’t. Come here and snuggle with me. Our first day is tomorrow. We definitely need some beauty sleep.” The extra warmth helped Layla’s nerves, and focusing on Prince’s heartbeat soon lulled her to sleep.

Layla woke up to an empty bed, which was unusual, as Prince usually slept through the entire night with her. Well, she thought, cats will be cats. Layla sat up and stretched, yawning. She began to get ready, but took much longer than needed, as she nervously fidgeted with her clothes and hair, moving bits here or there, as if it mattered. Finally, she decided she was hopeless, huffed at her reflection, and headed downstairs to get some toast on her way out the door. She stopped to fill up Prince’s bowl and briefly wondered where he had gone off.

Layla turned as she was walking away to look at the massive mansion she lived in. Well, technically her father lived there too, but he was out of town on business meetings probably about eleven months out of twelve. Her father owned and headed a multi-billion dollar corporation that dealt with stock market trading and e-commerce and many other things Layla wasn’t clear on. He was a very strict man, and constantly moved her from school to school, for reasons he never truly explained. A car was waiting to escort her to his newest selection, King High School. King High was a really top-notch private school, with all kinds of unnecessary add-ons, like soundproof walls, massive courtyards, a large food court, the works – but most importantly, to her father, it was a highly esteemed school for rich kids.

The drive to the school was only about five minutes, and Layla made a mental note to ask her father if she could just walk next time. The way there was very scenic, surrounded by beautiful trees, and it would be very calming. Layla was nervous, but not too seriously. She’d done this too many times before. The first ‘first day’ she had, her heart was beating out of her chest the entire day and the lump in her throat was the size of a baseball. She was too nervous to really pay attention and find great things to tell her father about, so she was transferred the next day. She learned quickly that if she was to stay in one place for any amount of time, she had to be smart about it.

Layla swallowed hard, adjusted her bag, and took her first steps into King High.