The Cats *lame title, will be changed eventually*

I don't have the plot all the way figured out yet, but I'm starting!

Introduction:
“Yes, of course Betsy. You're
right; as always”, Ms. Crick said without looking up from her
tatting. She was addressing the statuesque black cat that was staring
down at her from it's perch on a bookshelf.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Stop looking at me like that!”,
I snapped at the orange tabby sitting in the rocker. I grabbed my
books from Ms. Crick and rushed out the door without a backward
glance. The cats Ms. Crick kept with her in her tiny, musty bookstore
stared after me. I'm not sure where she gets them, but every week,
when I go to get another load of books, she has a few new ones. The
way she always talks to them, like she's actually carrying on a
conversation, always sends shivers down my spine. Her cats seem
intelligent; like they actually can understand her and answer. It
still raises the hair on my arms. Hiding in the back of her store,
never coming out except to her few customers, people think Ms. Crick
a harmless old cat lady, but I think there's something creepy about
her and her assorted cats.

Hmm, crazy old cat lady....I LIKE IT!! More soon pwease?

xD So it does have merit! Woot! Yesh, I shall write more x3

Ooo. :3 Ominous! I can't wait until you have more.

(And btw - I like the title. xD Just saying "The Something" like that makes such a simple title, but one that totally pulls you in . . . like, "Hmm, the cats? I wonder what this could be about . . ." I'll always use titles like this for my schoolwork before I have the final draft. Like, I wrote a paper about the French and Indian War, and called it The Unavoidable. )

Chapter 1.
“Andrew!” the sound of my name being called snagged on the edge of my dream, and pulled me into a state of semi-awareness. Only having been woken up slightly, I rolled over and buried my face in my soft, checkered pillowcase. I am not a morning person. Mom's footsteps echoed through the hallway, then paused in front of my door.
“Good morning!”, she trilled, poking her nose around the door frame.
I kept my nose down and my breathing slow, hoping she would leave me to my sleeping. But she advanced towards my bed, a fake smile plastered on her face.
“Today's the day! Better get up and eat something before you leave.”, she said in a cheerful tone. Yes Mother, I thought, I remember. It was the first day of my new job, as a clerk at The Unturned Page, a tiny bookstore on the other side of the small town I lived in. For a first job, it wasn't bad, but I was not excited in the least. Spending all day with Ms. Crick and her motley group of cats was not my idea of a fun-filled summer afternoon.
As if guessing my thoughts, Mom bent over and kissed my hair gently, resting her lips on my head for only a brief split-second. “You're going to be fine”, she whispered, “But if you don't get up, you're going to be late!” she smiled into my hair, and bounced out of the room.
With a heavy sigh, I rolled over and glanced at my alarm clock. 8:27. Perfect. Just enough time to eat, brush my teeth, and be at the The Unturned Page by 9 o'clock sharp. I eased myself out of bed, careful not to let the creaky bed-springs wake Joseph, who was still asleep in the next room.
Running my fingers through my hair, in a futile attempt to make my fiery locks behave, I staggered over to my dresser and pulled out some clothes. I slipped into the white cargo shorts and lime green T-shirt that had the name of a popular skate brand emblazoned on the front. I wanted to make a nice first impression on the customers, after all. Quietly, I made a dash for the hall bathroom.
Safely inside, I grinned cockily into the mirror. I had the same slightly crooked, sloping nose as my father, but everyone instantly said I looked like my mom. We shared the same barely wavy, almost carrot-orange hair, warm gray eyes, and ears that stuck out a fraction. As I coated my teeth and the inside of my mouth with the toothpaste on my brush, I contemplated what I would be doing all summer.
Ms. Crick was harmless to most people; at most, an older lady who was getting a bit soft in the head, and a bit too attached to her cats. I, mostly, was of the same opinion. It was the pack of lithe felines in her shop that bothered me. They stirred something instinctual in my gut that told me to be afraid. Ms. Crick shouldn't be able to understand them, and vice versa. Yet that very thing seemed to happen.
I spat emphatically into the sink and gazed into the mirror, as if I would find an answer there.
The cats frightened me dreadfully. And I was going to spend an entire summer working in the same enclosed, musty shop as them. Oh, goody.

Yay! x3 That was cool.

Thanks! I went out on a limb, and made my MC a guy; I've never done that before :3

Oh, really? xD Lol, whether it was obvious or not I think I was picturing him as a girl.

Heh, oh well. It'll be more obvious as to his gender as the book continues.

Chapter 2.
After a hurried breakfast, I swung out the door, pausing to give Mother a peck on the cheek.
Smiling, she shoved my lunch in my hands. “Good luck”, she whispered in my ear.
“Thanks, I'll need it.”, I half-joked. Inside, I knew I would need it.
I slammed the door shut behind me, hollering goodbye at the top of my lungs. Taking a deep breath of the unusually brisk summer air, I leaped off the porch, reveling in the slap of my sneakers against the concrete of the sidewalk. The satisfying sound echoed around the empty street. I strolled off, feeling the soles of my feet start to sting from the impact. I reminded myself that I needed some new shoes. My moment of pure pleasure was abruptly ended, though, as I continued my jaunt across the small town of Aughtsville, Washington. Thoughts of the place where my walk would end swirled through my mind, not ceasing until I realized I was standing in front of The Unturned Page.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself for another meeting with the woman whom I had feared since second grade. The entire group of kids I played with at that age were constantly daring each other to go knock on her door, have a conversation with her. I was always the one to chicken out. Everyone in my circle who liked cats in any way, were also fascinated with the pack of felines Ms. Crick owned. Of course, there were new cats since then, I reminded myself, and other ones had died or run away. These can't be the same cats, and besides, you were young. You're 15 now, time to act like it.
After I thought I had worked up enough courage to open the door, I reached out and touched the handle on it. Just as my hand gripped it, Ms. Crick herself swung the door open. I just about levitated, and I could feel my eyes widen.
“Well don't just stand there. Come in!” she beckoned with a smile, and I realized I had been standing there, staring at her for who-knows-how-long. Embarrassed, I meekly followed her into the shop, watching the black velvet bow in her snowflake hair bob up and down.
Over the ringing of the bells that were perched above the door, Ms. Crick introduced the girl that stood before us. “This here is Kaylah Tenbrook, my grand-niece, and she's going to be your fellow employee.”
I didn't hear what she said next; I was too busy staring at Kaylah. It wasn't that she was of a super-model type beauty, even though with her straight-as-a-board, dark brown, almost black hair that fell to her shoulders, large hazel eyes, and delicate hands that were now twisting together with nervousness, she was pretty. No, there was something more about her that had me entranced, something of a quiet aura that said, I'm special.
“Uh, hi Kaylah. I'm Andrew Cabbell.” I stuttered. I don't have a stutter normally, I frowned.
Kaylah smiled, “Hi Andrew. Just call me Kay, I prefer it.”
“Well, I prefer Andy myself.” I said. Kaylah, er, Kay grinned again. I finally tore my eyes away as she turned at something Ms. Crick had said from the back. I followed her, trying not to stare. The back of her dark purple T-shirt led me through the chaos that was that back of Ms. Crick's shop. We picked our way over and around crates of books, looking for the source of Ms. Crick's voice.
When we found her, she was busily tatting in a ratty rocking chair, talking quietly with her cats. No, to her cats, not with them. Right. She slowly rose from the chair when she saw us, grabbing two aprons from the back of the chair as she did so. Handing us each one, she smiled. “You two would make such a cute couple.” she said.
Instantly, the temperature of my cheeks could rival a volcanoe's. I sneaked a glance at Kay and saw that her cheeks, too, were poppy red. I hurried into my navy apron that had the name and motto of The Unturned Page emblazoned on the front. Eager to escape the awkward situation, I followed Ms. Crick into the front as she chattered on about what and when we were going to do things today. I groaned internally as she listed our tasks for the morning.
“Then you two can have lunch some place, and we'll wrap this up about two-thirty. Does that sound good to you?” she paused and looked at Kay and I expectantly.
“Yup.” we said in unison, bobbing our heads.
“Okay then, let's get going.”

Awesome job. Yeah, I could definitely tell now that he was a guy . . . xD I love how the descriptions you used when they were blushing weren't cliches. They were original!