Abby Sher - Miss You Love You Hate You Bye

I still dont consider myself a cruel person. But I did have a momentor really, severalwhen I was ready to strangle that cat.

Zoe says that Pepe le Meowsers chose her. Her mom joined some mega-gym-spa that had just landed in our town. Zoe went for a tour and on the bulletin board she saw a note about a litter of newborn kittens that were available for adoption. It said if they didnt find homes soon, theyd most likely be put to sleep. By the end of one fateful Zumba class, Zoe was caught in a herd of women, all doing cool-down squats around a plastic crate with five squirming tabbies. As she said, maybe it was just from overexertion, but when she saw how tiny and fuzzy and malleable these small creatures were, she felt faint. She literally swooned.

I mean, what the what? Im not even a cat person, she reported to me twenty-four hours later as I sat in her basement. Actually, Zoe wasnt talking just to me. She was declaring her newfound feline love to the worldperched on a metal stool in front of a sky-blue fitted sheet. I was holding her phone, filming her testimonial and trying desperately to stifle a sneeze.

There was just something so primal and yet indescribable connecting us in that moment, Zoe recounted. I dont know. All of a sudden, I was lying on my back and the whole gym was sort of turning this peachy-sunset color and fading away. And then

It was as if Pepe knew she was in distress. Apparently, he leaped over the side of the crate and risked his life tripping on a StairMaster machine, then scrambled up Zoes arm, gumming her face, pawing at her eyes. She still had the tiny pink scratches to prove it. Three jagged lines etched into her left cheek. She also had a splotch of blush on her nose and whiskers drawn on her face in what looked like navy eyeliner.

Zoe Grace Hammer and I had been best friends since our moms bumped into each other while pushing us in strollers. Or at least thats how Zoe always relayed our past. She also claimed that we hid in the bathroom at nursery school and ate blue Play- Doh, but I have no recollection of that. I think that was either told to her or she made it up. Which I guess is the definition of anyones history, really.

I do not remember how Zoe and I met. Only that she was there, with her sparkling green eyes, already laughing. Waving her hands at me from across the room as the morning bell rang on our first day of kindergarten. She had already dumped out all the wooden blocks onto the carpet for circle time and was using the empty toy bin as a boat. Her first-day-of-school dress was a patchwork pattern of every color in the rainbow. It was also tiny enough to fit a doll.

Come here! Zoe beckoned. Ill save you from the storm!

Even though I had no idea what she was talking about, I heeded her call.

Our friendship didnt grow or evolve. It was instantaneous. While the rest of our kindergarten class made their introductions, Zoe nested me in her lap, trying to tame my curly hair into a semidecent braid. Two hours later, she presented me with a pact of undying bestfriendhood. Of course, I said yes.

I learned how to sing from Zoe.

I learned how to do a cartwheel from Zoe.

I learned how to melt broken crayons and sneak jelly beans in the sides of my cheeks from Zoe.

All vital skills that made my life feel more colorful and vibrant than ever before.

When Zoe came to play at my house, my mom liked to say that she brought the party with her. She always had matching Froot Loops necklaces or glitter tattoos that we had to put on right away. She would kick off her shoes and twirl me around and before I knew it, we were mixing ingredients for slime or having a naked dance party in my room or both at the same time. Zoe was pure electricitydarting and leaping everywhere, because walking was too predictable and slow.

To be honest, I preferred going to Zoes housewith a drawer just for Fruit Roll-Ups and framed Disney pictures everywhere. Her bedroom had so many pillows and ruffles, I felt like we would both float away on a unicorn sneeze or tumble into a vat of cotton candy. Everything was enchanted. Especially Zoe. She was an Irish firecracker, with stick-straight ebony hair that shimmered and huge eyes that took in everything. Her nose was barely bigger than a thimble. As an infant, shed been the cherubic face of BabyFresh Ultra Diapers and made a buttload of money in some car commercial about antilock brakes. Also, she got to sing the jingle for IPopUPop microwave popcorn and traveled to fifteen states with the national touring company of Annie 2.

There was a whole photo album of her commercial work in her living room, but Zoe didnt like to talk about it much. She once told me that the day she met me was the day she decided she was done running off to auditions and memorizing tap dance routines. She just wanted to stay home and be a plain ol kid, like you.

Which I chose to take as a compliment.

Id always wanted to be Zoes twin, though I was far from it. Zoe came up to my shoulderif I was slouching. Where she was petite and wiry, I was a mess of loose limbs. If I had to describe myself, Id say I was mildly awkward with grand intentions. Mud-brown hair to my chin that was somewhere between wavy and unmanageable, a nose that took up too much face real estate, and a unibrow that was hazardous. I did like that my eyes were the same sea-glass turquoise as my moms. Also, that I wore mismatched socks on purpose. I was an avid recycler, and one of my teachers called my punctuation exemplary!?,;

But I longed to be more like Zoe. From the moment I met her, I did basically anything Zoe told me to dosit, stand, lie down, roll over. At night, I tried to train my nose to slope up like hers at the very end. I practiced walking with my feet turned out to match her ballet strides and joined the track team briefly to literally chase after her. When we had sleepovers, I memorized the stripy patterns in her mint-green wallpaper, as if they could lead me closer inside. She started calling me