Nox or Not? - 1. Chapter 1

I was watching my best friend lose his mind. Maison dropped prone on the floor to peer under the couch, then up to his feet, turned in a full circle, and raced from the room. I’ve been watching him do the same routine for about ten a minutes. It was beginning to almost resemble a choreographed dance. I continued to watch as he strode back in the room, predicting that he would now spin in a circle, which he did, then pull on his hair. The next step would have him dart past me into the kitchen, but instead he stopped, glared at me, and crossed his arms.

“You could be helping me out instead of laughing like an asshole.”

“I’m not laughing,” I halfway lied. I wanted to but kept it down to a grin that I was having trouble suppressing.

“Right,” he said, rolling his eyes and stalking past me.

“I’m sorry if I don’t think that rechecking the same places you’ve already checked five times is going to make Nox suddenly appear,” I said, following him.

Maison covered his face with his hands. “Oh my God, Maddie is going to kill me when she gets back from Denver and found out I lost her cat.”

“Just the one,” I pointed out. “You still have Lumos.” I pointed to the white kitten sleeping calmly on the windowsill, practically glowing in the sunlight.

“You are NOT helping.”

“If you want help, why don’t we walk the neighborhood? Bring some treats and we can ask your neighbors if they’ve seen him.”

“How could he have gotten out?” Maison asked. “There’s no way-”

I cut him off. “He could have slipped out when your mom and Megan left to go shopping. Or when Chase and Terry came by to hang out. Remember how they left the door cracked open a little without realizing it? There might have been enough space for Nox to squeeze through.”

Maison grabbed his hair again, and when he spoke his voice was nearly a whisper. “If he got out, he might be gone forever. Get lost in the woods, get hit by a car, grabbed by a coyote—” His voice broke.

“All the more reason to go looking for him now,” I said, gripping the kitchen counter so hard my knuckles were turning white. I wanted to hug him. “Do you have something of Maddie’s? Like a piece of clothing?”

“Why?”

“Because while you were running around the house like a crazy person, I was researching. We should put out some food and something of hers. If Nox is outside and smells it, then it might lure him back home. Most escaped cats don’t go too far. Is Nox microchipped?”

“I don’t know,” Maison admitted. “I can’t ask Maddie, or she’ll want to know why, and then I have to tell her that I lost her cat!”

“No, no, don’t tell her yet,” I agreed. “Let’s look for him first. Worst case scenario we can tell her when she gets back, so that were don’t ruin her trip.”

“And so she can bury me after she kills me,” Maison moaned.

“Shut up, drama queen.”

We left a can of food in the garage, along with a hoodie that belonged to Maddie that Maison found in her old room. After 30 minutes of thoroughly investigating every conceivable hiding place in the yard of Maison’s house, we turned to the neighbors. I would knock and ask if they had seen a black kitten with green eyes and then ask if it was okay to look around their yard. Most didn’t answer, and we looked around their yards anyway. We called Nox’s name, which made us look dumber than the person that had given her cats those ridiculous names in the first place. Maison brought a bag of treats that he shook in his hand.

Hours later, we had to admit defeat and trudge back to the house. Maison was talking about possibly relocating to another country before his sister got home.

We went in through the front door and Maison collapsed on the couch, covering his face with his hands.

“What are we going to do?” he moaned. We were both hot and sweaty and tired.

“Let’s get something to drink and regroup,” I decided. “Maybe call some shelters and put a notice on Facebook.”

Maison didn’t respond, just kept his face in his hands.

“Dude, you okay?”

He looked up and I was startled to see how shiny his eyes and nose were.

“No, Evan, I’m not fucking okay! Alright? It took ages for me and Maddie to get back on speaking terms after I came out, remember? And she finally trusts me enough to have me do this one thing, this one favor, and I almost immediately fucked it up, like the loser I am. So, no, I’m not fucking okay right now!”

“Hey, c’mon,” I sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not a fuck up. You made a mistake. People make mistakes.”

“Normal people make mistakes. I specialize in them.”

“Oh please. Remember the time I tried to vacuum the rug and set it on fire?”

Maison sniffled and tried to surreptitiously rub at his eyes. “Yeah.”

“And the time I tried to impress that new kid at the park by grinding my bike down the stair rail and ended up eating pavement?”

That got a small smile from Maison. “And you chipped the tooth?”

“Yup. And the time I tried to make cake from scratch and spilled all the flour?”

“And then used water to try to mop it up!” Maison was grinning now.

“So we have to face the fact that we are both fuck ups.”

Maison groaned and rested his head against the back of the couch, but the tears were gone at least.

“I’m getting us some lemonade,” I decided. “Be right back.”

I went into the kitchen and pulled out two glasses. Maison’s mom always kept a pitcher of lemonade in the house during the summer. It’s one of the nicest things I can say about her. I poured us both a glass and tried to figure out our next steps for finding Nox.

Or I was, until I saw a tiny, black kitten with green eyes stride casually in the room, jump up on the window next to his snoozing sister and start grooming himself. I grinned.

“Hey, Maison. C’mere.”

Maison was furious with Nox. I was more impressed. We had both scoured the house for the little guy and I still had no idea where he had been.

“He must have been hiding somewhere dark, and in the shadows,” I decided. Maison was watching a movie, but I was playing with the kittens. Maddie had a little wand with some curly ribbons dangling off the edge and both kittens were both jumping and tumbling over each other trying to get to them. I was relieved to see Nox back, not just for Maison’s sake but for my own as well. I was spending the weekend with Maison to help take care of them, but my standing with his family was still on shaky ground.

It started last year. I had just come out as pansexual. Like fully out. Out to my friends, out to my family, out on social media. And it had been mostly positive. Those few people who did have a problem with it, had been invited to no longer be a part of my life.

Maison saw this, and it gave him enough courage to consider coming out himself as gay. I had known for a while, and so had most of our friends. But Maison’s parents had not taken it as well. Apparently, their son having a queer best friend was fine, but their own son being gay was not.

I could still remember vividly when Maison had showed up on my doorstep, shivering. He had a few belongings stuffed in his backpack and some plastic grocery bags.

“Hey,” I had said, taking in the details, but my mind was too slow to piece them together.

“I really fucked up this time E,” he said. He tried to smile, to put on a brave face, but instead it crumpled and broke. He dropped the bags and put his hands up to his face. He hated for people to see him cry. I pulled him into the house and felt him grip my shirt and just sob. I hadn’t seen him cry like this since he broke his ankle when trying a new trick on his skateboard when he was 9. I just held him and let him cry it out.

My mom looked in to see who was at the door and took in the scene. She quietly picked up the bags he had dropped and took them to my bedroom. I followed, gently guiding Maison who was clinging to me like his life depended on it. I set up both down on the bed and waited. It felt like forever before he had cried himself out.

I gave him some tissues. My shirt was damp from his tears and I’m sure a bit of mucus, but I tried not to think about that part.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I worked the backpack off his shoulders and set it on the floor.

“They kicked me out,” Maison said thickly, blotting his face with the tissues.

“Your parents? Why?”

“They found out. I was stupid and left my email signed in on my laptop and Mom borrowed it while I was at school to order some things for Megan. I guess she snooped and found the emails to Dean. She confronted me and I told her everything. I was going to anyway, but she caught me by surprise, and I guess it wasn’t as clean as how I wanted to tell her. She lost it and started yelling, saying horrible stuff about being gay and I was just kinda taking it. Like I think I was in shock or something. But then she started saying stuff about Dean… and you… and I just came unglued and started yelling back. After a while, she started just screaming at me to leave, so I went to my room. She followed me and said that she wanted me out of the house. So I grabbed some stuff and… well, here I am.”

“Christ,” was all I could think to say. I mean, yeah, I know his parents were a little stuffy and conservative. I guess homophobic wouldn’t be too far of a reach, but not to the point where they would kick out their son.

My mom wanted to know what was going on, so I told her while Maison tried to pull himself together. Her face got really pale and her nostrils started to flare the way they did when she got really angry. My folks and Maison’s had occasionally hung out, not super close, but would have each other over for barbecue and Super Bowl parties and myself and Maison were forever at each other’s house.

“I’m going over there,” she decided, her voice tightly clipped like it did when she was really pissed off and trying to hold it in. “Tell your father if he gets back before I do.”

I tried to take care of Maison, who was pretty much inconsolable. Didn’t want to watch anything on Netflix or YouTube, didn’t want to go biking or skateboarding. He ended up curling on the corner of the bed and watched me play video games after refusing to play himself.

My mom returned an hour later, still pissed off. She brought a suitcase with more of Maison’s belongings in it, and a bag of sushi from Maison’s favorite restaurant. She gave me the takeout bag and made me go set the table while she talked to Maison. I tried to eavesdrop to no avail and then went into the kitchen to grab plates, dipping bowls and chopsticks. When mom came back into the kitchen, I asked about Maison.

“He’s staying here for a few days until Amos and Michelle pull their heads out of their asses.”

Maison came into the kitchen to eat with us, a Powell family requirement. My dad and I goofed around with our chopsticks, trying to make Maison laugh. Even our walrus impressions, which usually sent him into gales of laughter, couldn’t bring a smile out of him. He was gracious but quiet, nothing like his usual cheerful boisterousness. Maison was usually even a little more energetic when he came over, claiming our house was too quiet. This Maison was distant and hurting and I also ached for him.

He retreated to my room after dinner and seemed more composed and embarrassed about his earlier outburst. He even played some video games with me for a while. But that night, I woke up in the dark to find Maison curled up on the other side of the bed, quietly sobbing. I debated about whether to say something or pretend I hadn’t woken up to give him some privacy. But the sound of his sobs, desperate and broken, was too much for me to ignore. I turned to him and wrapped my arm around his chest, pulling him closer and letting him know I was there.

He instantly tried to compose himself, quieting his breathing, wiping at his eyes with his arm.

“It’s okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure what I meant… okay that he was crying, okay that he was staying here, okay right this second because he was safe. Maybe all those things.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Maison finally said after a long silence. I had started thinking he had fallen back asleep. “You hear stories about gay kids being kicked out by their parents. I thought mine were different.”

“Me too.”

“I thought that they might not be crazy about the idea. But—But—”

“I know,” I said, giving him a squeeze. “But you’ll stay with us for now and maybe they’ll come around. In the meantime, it’ll be like having a brother. Like we wanted when we were little.”

Maison let out another shaky breath.

“Thanks Evan. You’re my best friend.”

“Ditto.”

Maison’s parents eventually came around… kinda. Maison stayed with us for two weeks. It took that long for word to get around about what Maison’s parents had done, and instead of the admiration or sympathy that Maison’s parents were expecting, the backlash they suffered instead was the main catalyst for them to allow Maison back into their house. Maison didn’t want to go. I didn’t want him to go. But Mom had another one of those long talks without him that I wasn’t allowed to hear. And afterwards, Maison returned to his parents.

Life didn’t improve much there. His parents had a bunch of new, ridiculous rules. No dating at all. His phone and internet usage were monitored. And while I was still allowed to come hang out occasionally, it was clear I wasn’t welcome. The few times I stayed over at his place, I had to sleep on the couch instead of in his room. And no matter if we were in his room, basement or office, we had to keep the door open.

His parents were using college aid to force compliance. It was stupid, but Maison was smart. It wasn’t hard for any teenager to find a way around internet snooping. He started a job tutoring students at the high school for extra money and to keep him out of the house. I would usually join him, doing my homework and talking to him between jobs. Sometimes, even if he wasn’t tutoring, he would say he was and then just ride around town with me in my car to talk or goof off.

My mom helped him find a bank that allowed them to open a joint account so he wouldn’t have to hide his money at his house. We had a mutual female friend, Laura, call his phone several times a week so it looked like Maison was talking to girls when Maison’s parents checked his phone.

His younger sister Megan was shielded from much of the drama, but when Maddie asked Maison to cat sit, that was a bit of an olive branch. She was 19 and had “stayed neutral” during the separation and didn’t want to be “caught in the middle”. Reading between the lines, it sounded like she too was being held by the threat of having her financial help for school revoked if she went against her parents by supporting Maison. Sounded like she was just being a coward to me, and a selfish one at that, abandoning her brother so the money could keep coming in. But Maison cared for his sisters, and he accepted. He had asked his parents to let me stay over to “help” cat sit once Maddie made it clear that she didn’t want them staying at my house.

The fact that his parents allowed it and had left us alone for most of the day was another good sign.

Watching Maison, who was interrupted from the film by Lumos nosing under his arm to start kneading at his thigh, I wondered when my feelings for my friend had started to change. Maybe it began when I felt so protective of him after his parents had treated him as disposable instead of precious. Maybe it was the sudden, infuriating distance his parents kept us at. Or maybe this would have happened regardless, a slow kindling built on years of friendship, shared secrets, goals, and dreams.

But it was right there, staring me in the face. I was in love with Maison.

I held it deep inside, a hidden flame that warmed my heart. I planned to tell him at some point… maybe in college, away from his family’s toxicity, or even at graduation, if I couldn’t wait.

But I couldn’t tell him now. It was still too new and fragile, and frankly, so was Maison. Nothing that his parents did now would erase the two weeks of misery he suffered from being outcast from his family. My parents and I had been his family at that time and while I think that helped, there are some scars that will never go away and this was one of them.

But he still needed us. Needed a set of parents that cared about him. Needed a best friend to be there for him. If I revealed my feelings, then no matter the outcome, it would change our dynamic. If he did accept it, then he would lose a best friend for a boyfriend. And while I thought we could make it work, he would still be stuck at home, being treated like a pariah. We wouldn’t be able to tell anyone, would have to date in secret. No holding hands, no hugging, no kissing unless in private, and privacy with Maison was in short supply these days.

If he rejected me, it would hurt, but I would get over it. Maybe. But it would still be there, casting a pall over the relationship. Worse than even that would be if Maison wasn’t interested and he felt that he had to accept to keep his surrogate parents.

All the options had the potential to be bad for Maison, and I couldn’t take that chance. Maison might not even be ready for a relationship for a while. His online relationship with Dean understandably fizzled out, and he had expressed no interest in dating since then.

So I kept my feelings safely hidden and just watched him, my heart aching in my chest, as he stroked Lumos while she curled up on his chest.

We were both worried that Nox might return to his hiding place, which we still were unable to divine, when Maddie returned. He would slink off to his hidden place during the day and usually would come out for food or when he wanted to play. He loved the ribbon wand while Lumos liked the laser pointer. Not that I was paying attention at all.

But they were both curled up on the loveseat, napping contentedly, when Maddie returned. She graciously thanked both of us, and offered him money, which Maison refused, and he only took it when she “insisted”. It was a weird thing his entire family did. He looked sad to see them go. It gave me an idea. So, the next weekend, I asked if he was able to come over. He could.

I drove us downtown. Maison was pestering me to know where we were going, and I was teasing him by naming some of his least favorite restaurants. I pulled up to a café. Maison read the sign on the door.

“The Cat’s Pajamas?” he asked, as I parked. He got out of the car. “What a weird name. This must be new; I haven’t heard about it. I hope—” He pulled open the door, stepped inside and lost his voice.

The Cat’s Pajamas was a cat café. Maison instantly knelt down and picked up the first cat he saw, a fully grown black and gray tabby.

“I’ll get us some drinks, go sit down in the cat area,” I said, as if he needed to be told. He looked slightly dazed. I bought us both a boba tea as we couldn’t hang out at the café without buying something and took them to where Maison was sitting. The tabby was perched on the back of his chair. He had two black kittens in his lap, and another gray and white kitten was trying to climb up his leg. I scooped up the gray and white one, deposited it in Maison’s lap with the others and made sure the chair next to him was clear before sitting down. A cat came over to sniff curiously at my shoes, and I grinned and leaned down to pet it, but I mostly just watched Maison.

“These two look like Nox,” he said, holding one of the black kittens against his chest. The gray and white one pawed at his T-shirt and let out a loud, trilling meow. Maison passed me the black kitten and picked up the gray and white one who climbed on his shoulder, curled her head up against his neck and started to purr. The black kitten in my lap was exploring my jeans, then dug some very sharp claws into the material and started kneading my leg.

Maison was smiling in a way that I hadn’t seen much since he showed up homeless at my house. It was nice to see that again. I sat and drank the tea—Maison had completely forgotten about his—and just watched him. I hoped my feelings weren’t showing on my face, but he was so enamored with the kittens that I doubt he even noticed.

At one point, his phone buzzed, and he had to rearrange the five or so cats in his lap to fish it out. He glanced at it and sighed. “Count on Michelle to ruin my fun.” Maison didn’t refer to his parents as mom or dad anymore unless it was to their face.

“You have to head back?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Um… gimmie a sec.” I went back out to my car. In the trunk, where I knew Maison wouldn’t see, was a small cat carrier. I carried it back inside, keeping it low and angled away to keep Maison from seeing it. He didn’t notice, sadly depositing kittens back onto shelves and cat trees. Gray and white had her claws hooked in his shirt, and Maison held her there with his free hand.

“Is that gray one your favorite?” I asked, standing behind a chair to hide what I was planning.

“Yeah, I think so,” Maison said, smiling as the kitten licked his ear.

“I think you’re her favorite too,” I said. I stepped forward and held out the carrier, lined with one of our hand towels. “Better take her home.”

Maison looked at the carrier, then me, then at the carrier again. “Dude, you’re getting a cat?”

“We are getting a cat,” I corrected him. “She’ll probably have to stay at my house. But I need you to come and play with her as often as possible. And I’ll probably have you pet sit several times.”

Maison bit his lip. “If it’s your cat, then you should pick the one you want.”

“It’s our cat. And she picked her owner. Slide her in right here. We’ll have to sign a few forms.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Maison asked, his voice becoming noticeably less steady.

“Yes.” I held up the carrier. Maison carefully unhooked her claws from his shirt and gently settled her into the carrier. She let out another loud, trilling meow, sounding indignant. I let Maison take her while I signed the adoption papers up front. All of the cats at The Cat’s Pajamas were adoptable. I had cleared it with my mom, and we had gotten all the supplies we needed over the past week.

I pretended not to notice the way that Maison was wiping at his eyes again.

We discussed names on the way back to my house and settled on Minerva—Minnie for short. Maison carried her into my room and played with her for a few minutes before he had to head back to his house, making me promise to send pics and videos.

“And she’s really ours?” Maison asked, with Minnie still nosing around his collar. “Like she’ll be here every day?”

“She’ll be here every day,” I promised. “Just like me.”

Maison stood up and hugged me hard. I swear I felt a rib crack or something. I took the invitation and hugged him back. He smelled great, with just the slightest undertone of cat.

“You’re my best friend, Evan.”

I love you. The hidden flame flared in my chest. I just had to hold out a little longer. Just a little longer, then I could let him know my secret.

“Ditto.”

~END~