OhmygoshOhmygoshOhmygosh I can’t believe it! I’m so freaking excited. I finally got to start edits/rewrites/additions on Cat’s story. Adam and AJ got their (mostly) happily ever after, and there should only be minor tweaks. It’s no longer in serious edits, so I’m laying it aside until a friend finishes looking it over for me.
Fortunately, there isn’t much life stuff going on at the moment. Kids are back to school, winter concert season is here, and my 12-year-old is auditioning for All-County Jazz Band in a few weeks. Busy, but it’s a more typical busy than Christmas.
All right, on to the WIPpet featuring Cat! This story is structured in two parts: Cat’s present, which is concurrent with Passing on Faith, and his past, which are the events he briefly describes to Micah. The concept for the story (which I’m leaving a surprise for now) was taken from this line in PoF (this is LR, Cat’s sister, talking to Micah):
“He’s in complete shut-down mode and won’t even talk to me. I know you had something to do with it, because he adores you, God only knows why. What the hell happened?”
I figured in typical Cat fashion, he wouldn’t do something halfway, so a story was born.
WIPmath: New month, new novel, first 5 paragraphs. Or if you like, real math 1/6 = 6 – 1 = 5 paragraphs
Cat wasn’t running, exactly—more a fast lope. He was all the way to his own front door before he processed his bare chest, having left his shirt next door. There was no chance he was going back for it, certainly not that night and probably not any other. It was fine; he had plenty of other shirts. A missing sunset orange v-neck was the least of his worries, even if it was one of his favorites and complemented his ginger-blond hair so well.
He hurried inside his house and shut the door, turning around to lean on it despite knowing his back would stick to it. His skin was damp, and his breathing was shallow. Every inhalation shuddered with longing and regret. He should have known better than to give in to his own wishful thinking. It was too much to ask just once God might send him someone who could see past everything wrong with him to the real person he was.
No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t want someone to see past it—he wanted someone to embrace it. He’d done the whole “seeing past” thing once, and it had been all right in its way, but it wasn’t what he needed. For all of a few minutes, he’d been sure this time he’d found the right person. It hardly mattered that Micah, his gorgeous neighbor, was a mess of his own problems or that he was only going to be around for the summer. Sure, they couldn’t have the kind of passionate fling which was the stuff of movies. Cat’s body wasn’t fit for such things. They could have had something all their own, though, and it would have been enough.
Or rather, it was until Cat discovered once again how his train-wreck of a body would always be in the way. His usual trouble with the world of dating and mating was how many people saw him as a liability. Hooking up was largely out of the question, not that he was interested anyway. He never had been, no matter who believed he ought to be available. It was one lie of many which had followed him for eight long years. It made Cat hate how much people assumed about him because he was small and pretty.
He sighed and shoved off the door, wincing as it tugged at his skin but appreciating the way the burn grounded him. He flopped onto the couch, tired and a little sore and a lot heartbroken. His mind wandered back to the previous five minutes, and he closed his eyes. Whether it was to block out the images or embrace them, he wasn’t sure. It was his own fault—he’d made the first move. He’d kissed Micah.
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