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I once swore that I would never, ever go to a high school reunion.
Not that I had a particularly bad time in high school. I did sports, briefly had a boyfriend, and spent most of my time goofing off. I went to a couple house parties, tried a socially acceptable number of mind-altering substances, and had meaningful relationships with my friends. I didn’t have anything against the people or the idea of a reunion.
The thing that put me off was the context of the meeting. People go to high school reunions to get a sense of where their peers are at in life. If you’re successful, it becomes an outlet for bragging and vindication. If you’re not, it’s a vehicle for self-loathing. You’re there to see and be seen, and to judge and be judged, and I decided shortly after leaving for University that there was no way that could be healthy.
If I were to reconnect with anyone from high school, I would do it on my own terms. The scenario played out in my head like this: I arrive at a cafe somewhere overlooking a park. The person I’m meeting (preferably a cute girl) is more nervous than I am, and possibly running late. They arrive out of breath with an apology, and I say it’s fine. Then we order and trade stories and reminisce. If they’re successful, I tell them I’m happy for them. If they’re not, I do everything in my power to show that that’s okay, and they’re not being judged for it. And then our meeting blossoms into friendship and mutual respect and we live happily ever after.
That’s what I was picturing in my head when I invited Bianca for coffee. It had been a year since graduation. Since then I had enrolled in the community college’s sociology program, and Bianca had dropped off the face of the earth. Not that I was surprised by that. She had always been a bit of a shy nerdy type.
As I remembered her, she had black hair, freckles, and a build that wasn’t quite overweight, but could be politely described as full-bodied. She wore black, hoodies and jeans and the like, with the occasional delve into more adventurous clothing. Thigh-high socks and hair ribbons and plaid skirts were some of what I remembered. I also remembered the numerous pins on her bag, related to anime and the terrible internet humor of the time.
I was half an hour early, which allowed me to select the optimal table. There was a yet-untouched chai tea latte sitting in front of me, and I was nodding along to a magazine that was arguing in favour of a universal basic income and talking about the follies of eugenics and genetic splicing and tampering. Pop science stuff, but thought provoking all the same. I left the technical details to the STEM kids and focused on the implications.
Not that I had much time to focus; Bianca was a full twenty minutes early. I saw her awkwardly wave in the corner of my eye and wondered why she didn’t just tap me on the shoulder. She was wearing a large beret, and her outfit was a comely one that wouldn’t have been out of place on a middle aged housewife or maid. There was a lot of earth-toned, loose fitting clothing. Mostly gingham with wide-banded green tartan. Her face was much as I remembered it, only with less acne and more makeup. She had a cute looking bobcut that the beret mostly obscured.
I greeted her enthusiastically and stood up. When I held out my arms to offer her a hug, she awkwardly sat down instead. I did the same without breaking stride. Not everyone wants hugs. That’s alright.
“Hi Ruth” She said quietly.
“Hey Bianca, it’s been a while.”
“Yeah.”
“You look really good.” I remarked, and I meant it. She had taken great care in choosing her outfit and it showed. She was adorable in the genuine way of someone who knows what they find appealing and strives to become it.
“So do you.”
I smiled at the compliment and turned to accept a menu from our waitress. I wasn’t a good looking girl. A solid 4/10 that shot up to a 7/10 if you liked butch lesbians.
“Thanks. So how’s life been since high school? I heard you moved away.”
A grimace flashed on her face for a fraction of a second, then she nodded.
“Yeah…” She fidgeted and adjusted her hat, tugging down one side as if to protect herself from an imaginary chill. “I moved to Chicago with Justin just after finishing.”
“Justin?”
“He went to our school.”
I racked my brain, and surprisingly it came up with a hit. Justin was definitely the one who wore a black leather trench coat to school every day. Come to think of it, he and Bianca had been spending some time together towards the end of senior year. I wasn’t sure if this would be tactful to bring up. I asked anyways.
“Was he the guy with the trenchcoat?” Bianca bit her lip.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
There was something about the ‘yeah’ that erected a very clear fence around the subject. I tried to change it.
“So you’ve moved back here now?”
“Yes. I’m back with my parents.”
“Solid. Fiscally responsible.”
“Yeah. How about you?”
“I moved out a couple months ago. I’m actually living not far from here. Found a place with a view of the park.”
We bantered until the waitress took our order, and then we bantered some more. Well, I say we, but it was mostly me talking. What I learned about Bianca amounted to very little.
First, I learned she had moved away to live with her boyfriend while he attended university. She had applied there too, but hadn’t been accepted. Moved anyways. She said that she’d had a job there, but also that she hadn’t gotten much work experience or made much money. Second, she was about to start attending school locally at my community college. Third, she was now living with her parents. And fourth, she was reluctant to talk about any of this in any detail. Mentioning Justin or her parents made her visibly uncomfortable.
I began to draw my own conclusions.
“I have a question.” Bianca asked suddenly.
“Shoot.”
“How long did it take you to find work and get enough money to move out? After you finished school I mean.”
An oddly pointed question.
“Well… I didn’t really have a reason to leave home right away. I probably could have moved out earlier.”
Bianca nodded intently.
“I don’t know. I got lucky finding work over the summer. A friend of mine recommended me for a secretary position at a museum.”
She nodded again, slower this time. I decided to press for info.
“You thinking of moving out again?”
“Again?”
“You said you moved out with your boyfriend before?”
“Oh. Yeah, I would like to eventually. Once I have the money.”
I studied her.
“Independence is nice” I said.
She sighed.
“Yeah, seems like it.”
“Did you not get a taste of it when you moved?”
“It was Justin’s family footing the bill for the dorm room. I wasn’t really independent.”
I paused. Dorm Room?
When I looked up, Bianca’s expression was frozen, as though she had just realized she had made a terrible mistake.
“So you weren’t living together?” I clarified.
Bianca stared wide-eyed into her mug, silently. I glanced around to make sure nobody was paying attention to us. The coast was clear so I put my hand on hers and leaned in.
“Bianca?”
“We were living together.”
“In a dorm room?”
She nodded.
“Even though you weren’t a student there? Is that allowed?”
She shook her head, and I sat back.
“Did the school know?”
She shook her head again.
Oh boy.
I got ready to ask another tactless question. “Did your parents know?”
I watched her slowly shake her head a third time, not looking me in the eyes.
“Oh.” I said quietly. I picked up my mug and a beat of silence passed between us.
“I only told them after I’d gotten settled in there. They weren’t happy but I convinced them to leave me alone.”
“Hm.”
We were silent for a time. Bianca kept adjusting her hat and fidgeting, and I could tell she was trying to drink her coffee as fast as possible. A couple times I caught her glancing up at me, and I made a point of directing my gaze out the window.
Things were not going exactly how I imagined them. I tried to focus on how to salvage the situation. When Bianca finished her coffee, she looked a little distraught at having one less thing to occupy her hands.
“Should we go?” I asked her quietly, and she cast me a helpless look.
“Do you have to be somewhere?”
“What? No I mean like,” I hesitated. Bianca was staring at me with industrial strength puppy dog eyes. It was so genuine I doubted that she had any idea she was doing it. “...we could find a more private place to talk?” I suggested.
“Yeah.”
* * *
We went back to my apartment. It was the logical place to go I suppose, and Bianca showed only mild hesitation when I pitched the idea to her.
“Can I take your coat?” I asked. Having company over was still alien to me, especially company that was as strangerlike as Bianca. It was my turn to be the awkward one. I was still figuring out this whole adulting thing.
Anyways, she handed it to me and I hung it up.
“And your hat?”
She did not hand it to me. Instead, she pulled it lower over her ears, managing to look defensive but apologetic.
“Sorry.” She said quietly. I cut her off before she could make her excuse.
“Oh no, you can keep it on, that’s fine. Don’t worry.”
I said that, but my brain started formulating explanations that were probably much, much worse than the reality of the situation. Was she trying to cover up some kind of scar? Something that Justin left her with? The best case scenario was probably a bald spot or something.
Bianca entered my sparsely decorated apartment ahead of me. She asked delicately if she could explore a bit and I said sure, watched her curiously poke her head into every room in the place and look around. That made her a bit at ease it seemed. When she was done she took up an awkward perch on the end of my second hand sofa.
And honestly, that was kind of unnerving to me. She was dressed up and well kempt and just steeped in doll like beauty. Seeing something like that in such close proximity made me feel hazy. Like I was dreaming or something. My usual schtick was to tease and flirt with girls as much as I could get away with, but I was off balance now. Something about her story, and her trust that my apartment would be a safe space made it feel wrong. I tried to distract myself by gazing out the window. It wasn’t a bad view of the park, three storeys up.
“Oh yeah.” Bianca began, and I turned to see her rummaging in her bag. She produced a box of chocolates and held it out.
“For me?” I asked, confused. I was met with a nod. “What for?”
“Um. A friendship offering?”
“A what now?” I took the box and examined it. It wasn’t anything special. Just something you’d buy at a supermarket.
“Um. Never mind. It’s just a gift.”
“Hang on, is there something I’m missing?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Well… thanks. I can always use a box of chocolates.” I said, setting the box carefully on the coffee table.
“I don’t know how to make friends.” She blurted suddenly. “I wasn’t good at it in school and I never really got a chance after that. So when you invited me I thought I’d bring a gift. You know. Like… an olive branch.”
I paused. Jesus christ , I thought. Who hurt this girl?
“Thank you. Hey, I’ll enjoy them.”
She smiled meekly in response and I took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.
“Okay, I have some questions. First, how long were you and Justin dating when you decided to move out?”
“Umm. One month.” She said. She didn’t sound proud.
“Right. Okay. Second, what was it like living with him? You both lived in one dorm?”
“It was a big dorm. His parents paid a lot of money for it.”
“It’s still a dorm.”
“Yeah. It was cramped. But it was comfortable at first.”
“It was?”
“There were no parents in the way. It was just the two of us.” It took a lot of willpower not to groan.
Bianca looked down and blushed, a forlorn look on her face. I frowned at her.
“What did you do when he was in class? Or busy? Or you know, just in general? You weren’t going to school you said?”
“At first I’d just go out. He sometimes gave me some money to spend. But then I decided I should get a job. Mostly because I was bored. So I did. I got a job at Bed Bath and Beyond. It wasn’t great but it was something to do for the first while and it made me some money so I didn’t feel like such a waste.”
“That’s something at least. Wait, only for the first while?”
“I… quit. Well no, that’s not quite right. More like I just stopped going.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
“Sort of.”
“What was it? What did he do?” I blurted this insinuation out without thinking.
Bianca hesitated, clearly at a loss for how she should put this.
“I got surgery.” She said cryptically. “Justin paid for it with money that his parents gave him for living expenses.”
“Umm. Hang on, like cosmetic surgery?”
“Yeah. I guess. Here, I guess it’s just easier if I show you.”
She reached up and slowly tugged the beret off her head. As it fell away, two feline ears perked up and, with a jaunty catlike motion, twitched into place. I wasn’t nearly as much as a weeb as some of my friends had been prior to high school, but even I could recognize where this body modification drew its inspiration.
It was a trend. My pop science magazines had informed me of that much. Some scientific advancement made it possible to take a human, grow some animal parts, and basically sew them together. It was possible to get a human body to accept just about anything, from ears to tails to fins to scales. The practical and transhumanist potential was staggering. The cosmetic potential equally so. But those operations cost a little more than an average college kid’s walking around money.
My learned response to this reveal was:. “Holy shit. He paid money to turn you into a catgirl?”
“It’s not like I didn’t consent” Bianca reassured miserably. “I was as into the fantasy as he was.”
“The fantasy?”
Bianca bit her lip and looked down. She mouthed something that might have been a curse, but that seemed out of character for her so I wasn’t sure.
“I was… his housepet.”
I looked at her in horrified comprehension, but she still felt the need to clarify.
“We had a thing where I would pretend to be his cat. I didn’t talk. Just meowed. I just played with him. Sometimes he would talk to me but mostly we would just play, or snuggle, and sometimes it would turn into ecchi…” She sighed. Corrected herself. “I mean, it’d turn into sex.”
“Don’t fucking tell me.” I began bitterly, staring at the ears. The surgeon had done a great job on them. They were remarkably lifelike, and the fur matched her hair color. Not that it changed anything about the whole fucked up situation. “Was that the whole deal? Did you get dragged to Chicago to pretend to be a rich kid’s fucking cat?”
Bianca shrunk, and I realized with some guilt that I had raised my voice.
“Yes.”
“That’s all kinds of fucked up.”
“I know.”
“So when you got the ears you quit your job?”
“I could probably have made it work. But I couldn’t have dealt with all the attention. People would have noticed it. People would have known it was a special, private...” She sighed again. “It was a fetish thing.”
I had no words, so I just stared at her ears. They were almost flat now, pointed down at either side. It conveyed her anxieties even better than her human features did.
“You’re the first person I’ve told, you know?” She looked up at me.
“Aside from your parents?”
“Yeah.”
“What did they think?”
“They were even more angry than you are. They basically grounded me forever. I’m going to start classes in a couple weeks and they’ll be watching everything I do.”
“I’m not angry. Sorry. Well, no, I’m pretty angry. But not at you. Just at your ex. Do your parents know you’re meeting me?”
Bianca nodded.
“Oh thank god. Okay. At least you didn’t sneak out to meet me.” I composed myself for a moment before asking my next question. “So why did you move out with him?”
Bianca’s cat ears twitched, but no other part of her betrayed any emotion.
“At the time I thought it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I got food and a place to live and unconditional love and headpats.”
“Was your life that hard before?”
“No… but I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Being an adult I guess. I wasn’t really ready to do it. There was no way I was going to hold down a job. And I knew I couldn’t make it through college. People like you and Justin are smart but I’m not. Everything after high school seemed like it was going to be just a downward spiral for me.”
I regarded her in silence. She was speaking this plainly and without much emotion, as if she’d recited it many times, but her eyes were glued to the floor.
“It’s not that bad.” I tried to reassure her.
“I’m still mystified at how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Get a job. Move out. Be a person. Make friends. I don’t know.” She gestured helplessly at the box of chocolates on the table. “I feel like can’t figure any of it out. I’ll always be in over my head and if I can find someone to take care of me that’s as good as it’ll get. But I can’t even do that right.”
I said nothing until I noticed that she was starting to bite her lip, and it looked like she was fighting back tears. I scooted closer to her on the couch, mentally steeling myself.
“No. Hey, you had one fuck-up. That’s bad luck. You learn from those.”
“...or regret them forever.” Bianca’s voice nosedived into morose territory. I decided to spew a quote that I couldn’t quite mentally attribute.
“If you don’t regret things that means you’re not growing.”
“It’s one thing to keep regrets. But I have to wear them.” She pointed to her head, and then stood up. “No, it’s worse than that. Let me show you.”
I watched as Bianca turned her back to me, hiked up her skirts, and fidgeted with something out of sight. I had a pretty good guess of what I was about to see, and sure enough, a tail that matched her ears poked out from underneath her skirt. Evidently it had been wrapped around her waist. I watched it uncurl and flick from side to side, betraying some of her unease. It raised the hem of her skirt, but didn’t look like it had enough strength to reveal anything scandalous. She turned to me as if daring me to find anything good in this situation.
“Wow.” I said. “They did top and bottom. That must have cost a fortune.”
“It did. And Justin is not happy that I left him.”
“Yeah well. I am. Fuck him.”
“I can’t forget about it though. Not with these. It’s like someone found and uploaded all of my weird porn for friends and family to see.” She paused awkwardly, and then continued. “There’s no hiding from it. It’s like how if you’re pregnant everyone knows you got fucked. Except this is a thousand times more shameful.”
“At least… at least they’re cute?” I tried. At this, Bianca’s ears twitched and she put on a melancholy smile. Again, I wasn’t lying here. The scenario had already been dreamlike enough for me before I learned that the cute girl who came into my apartment had soft, fluffy cat ears.
“They are.” She conceded, and reached up to stroke them. “The tail is nice too. Despite everything, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love them. The splicing also helped me out.”
“Splicing?”
“You know like, you need a certain amount of cat in you for your body for it to accept the ears and tails. I was basically on gene therapy for a few weeks prior to the operation.”
I looked her up and down again. No real visible changes besides the ears and tail, but she did seem to have some other, ethereal catness about her that was hard to explain.
“What did that change?” I asked.
“A lot. I got really flexible and my reflexes got better. My skin got softer. I sometimes purr now too.”
Her tone was starting to crawl its way out of melancholy territory. Actually, it was starting to become apparent that she had emerged from this whole thing with a newfound love for her own body. The only problem was that she could never show that love in public. I tried again to comfort her.
“See? You came out of this positive. You don’t have to carry those as a reminder of your shitty boyfriend. They’re part of your body. They belong to you now. You can rock them however you want. It doesn’t… It doesn’t have to be a weird sex thing. Studio Ghibli did catgirls, right?” Those words actually exited my mouth. It was probably time to shut up.
As she listened her tail stuck up a bit higher, revealing a longer stretch of stocking-clad leg. I gulped.
“You’re the first person to say anything remotely like that.” She said, staring at me with dilated eyes. I noticed that her pupils were just slightly elongated. She sat down next to me, close enough that we were touching at the hip, and then she hesitated.
“Can I hug you?” She asked awkwardly. I nodded assent on reflex alone, before my brain even processed what she had asked me. Not that my brain’s decision would have been any different.
The hug was a sensory onslaught. It was more than I bargained for. Evidently a hug didn’t qualify for Bianca unless we had at least 70% body-to-body contact, so we ended up horizontal on my couch with her arms wrapped around my waist and her head resting on my chest. I made an involuntary ‘unf’ sound at the impact. When I looked down I saw her ears perked up, and her tail flicking back and forth playfully from a sea of tartan.
God, she was soft. She was so soft. We lay there for a second before I remembered I had arms and hugged her back. At that, she squeezed me tighter and nuzzled against my chest.
I know that I had probably been the first one to give her even a shred of acceptance or reassurance since she had run away from her boyfriend. I know that she was probably emotionally at her most vulnerable point and I was taking advantage of that. But I couldn’t help myself. It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, I was at home on my couch, and I suddenly had a cute cat girl motorboating me. I think she was starting to purr.
Bianca turned her head upwards and smiled at me.
“You can touch them.” She said. For a moment I was completely lost. Touch what? There’s no part of you that I don’t want to touch. Then the obvious dawned on me.
“Touch your ears?”
“Of course. What were you thinking?”
“Your boobs were the first thing that came to mind.” I answered. This, surprisingly, was not another tactless blurt-out. I figured I’d take the risk of being honest, since it had worked out well so far.
“Oh.” She said, and smiled slyly. “Those are fair game too.” Then she rubbed herself against me in a way that really emphasized how soft she was. She laid her chin on my chest and I moved a hand to scratch behind her ears.
Almost as soon as my fingers brushed her hair, she lifted her head to meet me. Her ears bent and folded as I worked my fingers around them, and she pushed against my hand with unashamed eagerness. Her eyes were screwed shut and her mouth was slightly agape, revealing the corners of a couple incisors.
I concluded the head scratching with a couple gentle headpats, and she sighed contentedly and set her head back down.
“You’re very cute.” I told her bluntly. “It’s kind of surreal how cute you are.”
“Surreal is a good way to describe having cat ears and a tail. I think you just need to embrace the surreal.”
“I’m doing my best” I said, and she giggled as I hugged her tighter. When I loosened my grip, she pushed herself upwards and shifted until she was straddling me comfortably at the hip. The hem of her dress settled over me like a blanket, and the motion allowed me a brief glimpse underneath. I felt guilty until I looked up and she winked at me, and then I felt my cheeks begin to redden.
This wasn’t quite right. I was usually the one doing the teasing, usually without any degree of reciprocation. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. Then again, nothing about this meeting had really gone how I pictured it.
“Hey. Hey, are you okay with this?” She asked suddenly.
“Me? I’m good.” I responded. “I mean, I’m more than good. Why?”
“No reason. I just… it’s important to ask sometimes. I think.”
I regarded her seriously. It really looked like there was something else on her mind. Something she wanted to talk about.
“Definitely is.” I agreed. She smiled distractedly, and I decided to press for more. “You look like you’ve got something to say. Penny for your thoughts?”
“Oh. Yeah. How to put this...” She fidgeted with a button on her dress for a time before continuing. “This is what I missed most. It’s like, the whole reason I went through with the operation.”
“To do… whatever it is we’re doing?”
“Yeah. Whatever this is. I like it, and I got a lot of it with Justin.”
“...but?”
“But it came at a cost. I traded too much for it. There was always too much or too little of it.”
I nodded, trying to understand, and let her continue.
“Eventually it wasn’t worth it. And when I ran away and came home, suddenly there was none of it. Just a lot of loneliness and shame. And I want to have this. I want to be able to wear cute clothes and let someone pet me. I want to be touched. I want to be hugged. I want to be able to make someone blush by winking at them.”
I grinned in embarrassment and tried to think of something smart to say.
“I don’t think you should have to trade anything for that. Not dignity or freedom or anything. I mean… I’d do it for free. And...”
I felt myself redden more under her curious gaze. Like a cat, she was good at watching with expressionless intensity. It was hard to tell whether she was listening or getting ready to attack.
“If there are people who can’t see your ears and tail as anything besides a weird fetish thing, then forget about them. They’re wrong and it’s not their business. You did it for yourself, not them.”
She smiled at me.
“You know what? You’re absolutely right.” She leaned down and took my hands in hers, weaving our fingers together. She leaned forwards slightly so that I had to push to hold her up, and we wavered playfully. Her hands were soft as well, like cat paws.
“You seem to have your thoughts pretty well in order though. Like, you know what you liked and you know why you left and all that.”
She shrugged.
“I’ve basically been alone for two months. That’s a long time to think about it. The only people I’ve been able to talk to are my parents and my sister, and they don’t even want to acknowledge the ears.”
“Jeez.”
She was moving our hands in little circles now as her explanation gained momentum.
“I had to beg them to let me out and see you, and even then they only agreed because you were an honor roll student.”
“Hey, good to know I did all that work for something. ”
“They don’t know you’re a lesbian though. Better keep that on the down-low.”
I flinched. It wasn’t exactly a secret anymore, but something about it being mentioned so casually by a near-stranger in the context of disapproving families caused some of that old panic to rise up. Plus, I really hadn’t been sure if she knew how much her teasing was affecting me.
“Sorry!” She amended, leaning back but keeping our hands interlocked. “I’m sorry if it was a secret. Someone told me back in high school.”
“That’s okay.” I said, now even more flustered than before. “Actually… is that okay?” In my experience a lot of girls are totally okay with a little teasing here and there, but the second they learn about my orientation they stop seeing it as harmless and start seeing it as predatory.
But Bianca had known all along apparently. I watched her nod vigorously, her ears lowered almost flat against her head.
“Are you sure?” I asked. A glutton for affirmation.
“How about…” she guided my hands slowly underneath the hem of her dress and placed one on each of her thighs, right on the bare skin above her stockings. “How about we just take it slow, and I let you know if there’s anything that makes me uncomfortable? I need to get better at that anyways.”
I gulped, and nodded. My hands stayed frozen where she had put them.
“Are you okay?” She asked. “You look like you’re about to cry.”
“I could.” I said, suddenly choked up.
And for that I received a long and warm hug. The hug gave way to head-stroking and snuggling. She let me play with her tail, which led to me playing with her butt, and then to slowly removing her stockings. When we kissed she pulled away and told me that part was still a little too weird for her.
I lost track of time, and was jerked back to the present when an alarm sounded from Bianca’s phone. We had made our way between the sheets of my bed, where she was purring softly and kneading my boobs.
“Bianca?”
“Hmmm?”
“What does the alarm mean?”
She stopped and sat bolt upright, and then dashed out of the room like something had spooked her.
“Do you have to be home?” I hazarded a guess. She came back nodding vigorously, hopping on one leg trying to get a stocking back on. I helped her.
“How are you getting back?”
“Train.”
“Let me drive you.”
“I can get back on my own.”
“Sure. But let me drive you this time.”
She stopped mid-stocking and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t really place. I saw happiness and relief in there, and hoped the rest of what she was feeling was just as positive.
“Do you have ulterior motives?” She asked.
“Yeah. I want to spend more time with you.”
She punched me lightly on the arm, grinning. I smiled and rubbed the spot as she hugged me.
“I am so, so glad I met you.” She said. “Promise we’ll hang out at college?”
“Duh. Promise.”