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“You sure there’s no mom?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Whatever asshole dumped them found it in his heart to set out a bowl of milk for them as a going-away present. They—”

“—just crawled through it and got wet, yeah.” I take his hand and pull him in the back, where we’ve set up a kitten room. It’s lined with heated beds, and well stocked with bottles and replacer formula. Alex is cross-legged on the ground, a tabby the size of her fist tucked in the crook of her arm while he takes his bottle.

“Someone else is in line for your love,” I announce.

“Also, I brought kittens,” Park adds. “Hey, Alex.”

She glances up. “Hey. How many?”

“Three,” he says, and Alex sets aside the tabby she’s holding, who screams in protest when she tucks him in with his littermates.

“One for each of us, then,” Alex says, reaching into the box and handing me a kitten. Park takes a couple of steps back when she offers him a white one roughly the size of a mouse.

“Uh . . . I don’t—”

“They need to get warm,” Alex says matter-of-factly, wrapping it in a heated towel and putting it into Park’s hands. “Keep it close to your body.”

I sink to the floor with my kitten and Park kind of slumps in defeat next to me while Alex mixes fresh formula. I show Park how to hold the bottle at the right angle and pretty soon all three of us are cupping kittens in our elbows, the only sound in the room their frantic suckling as they fill their empty bellies.

I glance up at Park and once again remind myself not to get in too deep. He’s adorable with the bottle clenched in his huge hand, eyes locked onto the kitten. I kind of love his hands. They’re huge and knuckly, so very male. I was worried that the first time he touched me I would freeze up, only able to think of vomiting in Alex’s bathroom and the heavy smell of rubbing alcohol as I dumped a full bottle on my crotch. But it wasn’t like that. Ray Parsons doesn’t even exist when Park’s hands are on me.

But I don’t think I’m in love. I don’t think I was ever in love with Adam, either. I just had him for so long that the idea of someone else getting him made me feel like I’d been robbed of something that belonged to me, but not something I couldn’t live without.

I knew I was really over him when Branley dumped Adam right before prom tickets went on sale, and I didn’t think twice before accepting the one that Park bought me. And maybe I imagined it, but I think there might have been a little spark of panic in his eyes when he handed it to me, like our let’s-have-fun arrangement might be off now that Adam was available again.

The only reason Adam being free means anything to me is because Branley ditched him the second there was trouble between Alex and Jack, and now she’s attached to Jack like a parasite. A really gorgeous parasite, true, but a life-sucker nonetheless. Jack can’t get away from her. The day the guidance counselor announced his academic full ride to Hancock, Branley marched straight to the office and got her own application.

I wasn’t in love with Adam. I’m pretty sure I’m not in love with Park.

Alex and Jack, they were in love.

I shift my kitten and he lets out a pathetic little noise that breaks the silence.

“He finished?” Alex asks.

“I think so.” I lift him up, his belly now round and full. “Time to pee,” I tell him.

“Uh . . . ,” Park says, glancing between me and Alex.

“You have to make them go to the bathroom,” Alex explains. “They won’t do it on their own.”

Park’s eyes get really big and I laugh at him. “You’re excused,” I say, taking his kitten from him and pulling a momma cat from the pile of stuffed animals in the corner.

“Holy shit,” Park says when he sees it, and I can’t help but blush a little.

Rhonda sewed a line of plastic nipples on the stuffed momma cats, explaining to us that kittens will suck for comfort, even if they’re not getting any food. And while it’s certainly true that the orphans adore their new moms, it does make for some awkward moments in the human world.

“It’s a titty kitty,” Park says, reaching for it, but I yank it away.

“Time for you to go,” I warn him, and glance back at Alex. “You okay on your own for a minute?”

“Yep,” she says, eyes still locked on her bottle feeder.

I walk Park out to the front, but he grabs my hand at the door. “Is Alex okay?”

“Doing better,” I tell him.