Cat Games Part 4: Don't Panic, It's Organic

Saturday morning, I’m restless in bed. More than a week has passed in a quiet flash, with little communication between Rayne and me due to our busy class and work schedules. In the few moments where we have seen one another, we made only small talk niceties and the nickname lives on. It refuses to die.

“Thanks for washing the dishes, Mouse,” or “Hey Mouse, do you like Thai food?” and “Mouse, could you grab another roll of paper towel from the pantry?”

I thought we’d talk things over. Make time. I thought we’d discuss the orgy, how I felt about it, what her friends thought of me, and maybe coin a meaning to our casual relationship.

It hasn’t happened.

Friends.

I’ve been chewing pencils to splinters in my classes and improperly filing textbooks at the bookstore, trying to flatten out all the creased and balled up thoughts inside my head.

Okay. I can deal with friends. Yet, if there’s a possibility of more from Rayne, I’d like that. We could be exclusive, or we could be fuck buddies, but without some clarity, I think I’ll go mad. I need to know what to expect. I need to know how I fit into her crazy world.

I sigh and roll over in bed. I’ll have to let it drop. If Rayne wants to have the talk, she’ll talk. Envisioning the cliché graceful sheep jumping over a single section of fence, I will sleep to come back to me...