Half Acre
"I met a mouse the other day."
"Yeah?"
"Well, I'd met him before, I guess, but ... those times, we never really talked," Akira said. Belly on bed. Wearing a pink tank-top shirt and some pajama bottoms. Her night attire. It was evening. She sighed. And rolled over onto her back. Staring at the ceiling. She was in her apartment. Talking to her roommate (who was in the jaguar's own room, using the jaguar's own computer). Akira, rolling back onto her belly, propping herself up on her furry, dandelion-colored elbows, said, "Aud, why aren't you using your own computer?"
"Yours is better." The panther shrugged.
Akira made a face. Rolling onto her back (again). Looking to the ceiling (again). And thinking of Field (again).
"So, you like this mouse, huh?"
"Did I say I did?" The jaguar extended the claws of her paws ... from their pads. And raked at the air. Lazily practicing her swiping and pouncing.
"You wouldn't have mentioned him, otherwise." Audrey's paws went tap-tap-tap on the keys of the keyboard. She was one of those crazy-fast typists. One of those who typed faster than you could read.
Akira blew out a breath. "He's ... different. Almost like he has this ... like he's out of synch with the rest of us. In a realm all his own. Prescient to things."
"Mm ... " A blink. "Prescient?"
"Having knowledge of events before they take place," elaborated the jaguar. "Was a Spell Bowl word once. I spelled it right."
"Didn't know you were in academic contests ... "
"It was years ago. I played volleyball, and did the Spell Bowl ... I was president of the Ami-Amigo Club."
"And now you're just a downtrodden, penniless college fur in NO clubs and playing NO sports ... moping on her bed over a mouse."
Akira squinted in annoyance. "Hey, at least I can physically talk to my mouse. Instead of having to use that ... net thing. I swear, that AIM is addicting. It's like a narcotic. You should be checked into rehab."
"You're just trying to change the subject," was Audrey's accusal.
"Am not."
"Are."
"You're impossible," Akira said, sighing. The black stripes on her fur seeming to quaver with heat and frustration. She breathed for a while. "No, really. He's ... hard to pin down. I don't know. But I like him," Akira said. Squinting. "Who you talking to, anyway?" The panther was, of course, using the instant messenger. As she did every night at this time.
"Some friends. Some classmates.My sister."
"You talk to your sister?"
"Sometimes."
"I don't talk to mine," Audrey said quietly, trailing. And she sighed, turning the conversation back to Field. "This mouse ... I think he likes me."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." The jaguar's tail snaked quietly behind her. In a lazy, feline way. She sighed again.
"Stop sighing, huh?" Aud asked. "You sound like you're in heat ... "
"I don't sigh when I'm in heat." Akira defended, flushing warm beneath her fur. In embarrassment.
"You do, too. You stalk around the apartment, chewing on meat ... constantly sighing, and then ... you go into your room here, lock the door, and ... use your paws to relieve the tension."
"Stop picking on me, huh? I'm trying to open up here. Are you sure panthers aren't related to snow leopards, cause ... "
"Well, just stop sighing, is all."
"Stop using my computer," Akira retorted, frowning at her roommate. "Seriously. This is my room."
"If I leave, who will you talk to? Who will be the receptacle for your venting?" Audrey shot back, looking over to her. With those black eyes. That matched the night-black of her fur. Panthers had definite allure. They were felines of the night. Akira, as a jaguar, often felt inferior. Like, maybe ... when the two felines were out and about on campus, that the panther got more stares. Attracted more interest.
"Myself," Akira shot back. "I'll talk to myself."
"Isn't talking to yourself a sign of mental instability?"
Akira opened her muzzle to reply to that, but faltered. Simply growling from her throat. "Whatever."
Audrey chuckled quietly, logging off the messenger, off the net ... and swirling in the swivel chair she was sitting in. Sitting in the jaguar's direction. "So, let's talk about ... mousey boy."
"Field. His name is Field," Akira said. Letting out a breath.
"Is he cute?" A toothy grin.
Akira chuckle to herself, biting her lip. She cleared her throat. "Not that it's any of your business, but ... yes, I think he is. He's ... well, a mouse."
"A twitch-a-holic?"
A chuckle. "Yeah ... but it's cute, though. Little twitches. How his nose always sniffs the air, like he's looking for something. I don't know." She wore a soft look. "I don't know. He's so poetic. And ... so gentle. He's one of those submissive kind of guys."
"Aren't all mice submissive? Aren't all prey," Audrey asked, "submissive?"
"No ... just look at rabbits. They're insane."
"Never dated a rabbit," Audrey said, shrugging.
"Well, neither have I, but ... you know, one reads books," she said, trailing.
The panther raised a brow. "What kind of books?"
The jaguar flushed. "Romance novels ... books. Books. One reads books. One looks at ... things."
"Give me a break."
"Like you never look at yiffy things? Come on ... rabbits are insatiable. Everyone knows that."
Audrey grinned coyly. Which was hard for a feline (or any predator) to do.
"Anyway," continued Akira, stretching on her bed. Clearing her throat again (she felt she might be getting a bit of a cold). "Anyway, he's soft and gentle. Very shy. Very reflective. Very emotional. He's just ... different, you know? He's not a typical guy. Or a typical fur. I don't know ... "
"You keep saying you 'don't know,' but it sounds like you do." A look. "You gonna call him?"
"I don't need to call him," Akira said defensively. "We have a class together. An art appreciation class. It's one of those 100 level classes ... you know ... "
A nod.
"Anyway, we got to talking on that field trip I told you I was going on," said the jaguar, swallowing. Nodding. "And, well ... he's sweet. I ... I like him."
"And he likes you, then?"
"I think so," Akira whispered. "I mean, I ... " She trailed. She hoped so.
"Not that I'm wanting to burst your bubble or anything," Audrey said. "But you do know that predator/prey relationships ALWAYS fail, right? We're too different from them. You'll only end up angry and frustrated, and he'll end up heart-broken. You'll ... "
Akira was ignoring her. Ignoring the facts. She didn't care. She wanted to try. And what did panthers know, anyway?
Their art appreciation class was from 9:30 to 10:20. Monday, Wednesday, Friday.
Today was Wednesday.
Akira slipped into the seat next to the mouse. Giving him a bright, little smile. Giving him a nod. Eying his honey-tan fur. His simple, understated attire.
He nodded shyly back.
"So, you always sit in the back of class, I see?" she teased.
"Well, it ... it lessens the odds of getting called on, you know."
She nodded. "Yeah, but all the goof-offs sit in the back. All the studious furs sit in the front."
"Do I look studious?"
She gave him a look-over. "Hard to tell." She grinned. "You look like you could pass as studious."
"Well, I don't really care one way or the other, but ... I sit in the back, and ... you know, I don't like to be in the front. I like to sit back here. The desk closest to the wall."
"You like your back to the wall?"
"Prey instinct. Limit the directions from which you can be hunted," said Field simply. "Sitting in the last row, I know that ... no one's gonna get me from behind. I can see everything in front of me. I have a good vantage point ... in case I need to flee."
"But you're not gonna need to flee," Akira said.
"But I'm prey."
"I can see that," Akira whispered curiously.
The class had not yet begun. They had another seven minutes. And furs were still filtering in.
"I wanted to ask you something," Akira said, breaking the silence between them.
"Yes?" The mouse's dishy ears perked and swivelled. His pulse quickened.
"How big is an acre?"
"What?" The mouse blinked. Confused.
"An acre. How big is an acre?"
"Um ... " Field, flustered, having anticipated a much different question (such as, "would you like to go out on Friday," or ... ) ... he sighed. "Um ... well, I don't know." A default response.
"Oh, come on. You do, too."
"Well, I don't," he protested.
She squinted and smiled. "You do," she insisted.
Field looked around. Eyes darting. And he mumbled, "4,840 square yards. Or 0.405 hectares."
"That is SO cute ... that you even knew that," Akira prattled, smiling. "I mean, I didn't know that."
"Well, it's ... just a number. And, believe me, I'm bad at numbers. I've failed more math classes than you could know."
"But you knew how big an acre was."
"I'm a farm mouse. I ought to know."
"Hmm." She nodded. "Well, I was just curious about that."
Field found that hard to believe. Rather, he felt that ... she was playing cat-and-mouse with him. Funny thing is, she was probably doing it unconsciously. By instinct, she was toying with him, teasing him ... ramping his pulse before backing off. Or something.
She watched him. His nose that sniffed and twitched. Pink nose. Pink, delicate ears that swivelled silently, as if scanning the static of the room for sensible sound.
Field picked up his pencil ... squeezed it in his paw. Always had to hold something when he was nervous.
She squinted, feline eyes seeing all the nibble and gnaw-marks ... on the pencil. She giggled.
He looked to her.
"You ... nibble your writing utensils." That was SO adorable! She could just see him on his back in bed, with a clipboard and notebook paper. Writing by candlelight or something. Nibbling his pencil to death. Tossing it neatly into the trash bin. And pulling a fresh pencil out. And nibbling on that one, too. Like ...
"I don't really notice I do it anymore."
"You do it, though. Look at all those marks."
Field did. Shrugged shyly. "Mice need to gnaw on wood ... to keep our teeth healthy."
"Didn't know that."
"We're supposed to chew on wood-blocks, but ... I like pencils."
"You'll get lead poisoning," she said worriedly.
"Well, they make pencils with safe material now ... knowing that some furs are nibblers."
"Well, I don't chew pencils, pens, or any other ... writing utensil," Akira admitted. "But when I get angry, I'll claw things. And I'll chew on my pillow," she said, stopping. Having gotten comfortable and casual enough to just blurt anything out. But she blushed and whispered, "Well ... I chew on my pillow while I sleep," she said, figuring she might as well finish what she'd started.
"Nothing to be embarrassed of," Field whispered back.
"I guess not ... "
Another silence between the two.
The jaguar eying the mouse. Hungry to know more of him. Melting at the all the possibilities.
The mouse eying the jaguar. Scared, anxious, but ... pulsing with hope. For some kind of connection. For love. With her ... despite the odds. Despite her being a predator. Him being prey. Despite all their own flaws and insecurities.
"I'd like to," the jaguar began.
"Yes?" Field's voice quavered. His pulse quickened again.
"Um ... well, get to know you better. You know ... maybe we could, you know, have pizza or something."
Pizza! Or something! Field's heart leapt.
"So, I ... "
"Yes. Yeah. I mean ... sure," said Field, stuttering. "Um ... um ... well, Friday? Friday night?"
Akira let out a breath and smiled widely. "Yeah, that'd be fine."
"I should, uh ... want me to pick you up?"
"With what?" she asked, still smiling. Neither of them had cars. Both of them living in apartments on campus.
"Well, I ... to walk you to ... "
"How about we just meet at the pizza place, hmm?" she asked. "And, then, we'll ... go from there." Her voice trailed. She drew in a breath.
He nodded. "Okay," he whispered.
She let her breath out. And nodded back at him. "Okay," she echoed. Nodding again. "Okay."
And the class was soon to begin, but neither of them ... paid much attention to what was being taught. What was being said. They were lost in daydreams.
Field's heart was swelling. Feeling a full half acre. Or bigger.
Akira, meanwhile, fought the urge to purr.
It was a date.