Young Writers Society

Yep, tear this apart.

“What is that?” Sally asked, leaning over the fence. Ray frowned at her, but he did the same. Though he did try to get a closer look, he managed to stop himself from leaping over it completely, like Sally did. Well, she didn’t actually leap over it. More like she lost her balance and ended up face-first in the dirt and who knows what else. Her yelp could have woken up whoever was staying in the farmhouse, but thankfully, it didn't.

“It looks like a cow,” he said bluntly.

“I can see that, Ray. But it has whiskers, if you look close enough. And see that? Those are stripes. A cow don’t got stripes. It got spots, but no stripes. I grew up on a farm just like this one, I can tell. I’ve seen completely white cows, completely brown cows, and brown cows with white spots and every color spots, but no striped cows.”

“Then what is it?” Ray asked. Sally shrugged.

“Why are you looking at me? You’re the smart one, I’m the pretty one, and Kara is the pain in the neck one.” She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and grinned cheekily at Ray.

It purred. Out of the blue, the sound erupted from the back of its throat as it rubbed itself against the fence. Spying a bird out of the corner of its eye, it immediately forgot about the makeshift backscratcher and instead tried to grab it. The fact that it had hooves didn’t seem to bother the… thing at all.

“It’s a cat.”

“And a cow,” Sally reminded him. Ray sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Right. So now, we have a cat-cow thing.”

“I know bovine is a cow because Dad told me it was. Say, a cat is a canine, right?”

“It’s feline, Sally. Canine is dogs.”

“Oh, right. So, we call it a fevine? Or a boline? I think fevine sounds better, what about you?”

“I don’t care! Just call it whatever you want. It’s not like it’s going to be here that long anyway.”

Sally looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What do you mean? This guy’s only just had his tenth birthday. I’m already fifteen. I can take care of it.”

“Yes, but a cat has an average life span of twenty five years. A cow has the average life span of twenty two years. Do the math.” His eyes were cold. “It would already be thirty or forty years old in human years. It won’t last.”

Sally’s eyes widened. As if sensing the coming disaster, the fevine let out a cross between a moo and a screech, rocketing away from the pair. Sally quickly switched her focus to the fevine, mouth hanging open. “Hey! Wait, fevine! Ray says he’s sorry! Hey, come back!”

With those words, she sprung up and dashed after it, years of being on the track team finally paying off. Ray just stared after her. Finally tearing his eyes away from the hysteric Sally, he shook his head. “I never said that.”

By this point, Sally had cornered the cowering fevine, and was talking to it, attempting to soothe it. “Ssh, I ain’t gonna hurt you. Ray isn’t going to either, even if he does look scary. Now, come with me.” The fevine let out a whine and butted his head on Sally’s palm. She laughed and started stroking his smooth fur.

“That’s nice. Now, come on. Let’s go.” Gently leading the fevine to the gate, she laughed as it attempted to dance around her. It tripped over a rock and was sent stumbling to the ground. Quickly recovering itself, it seemed to laugh as well and try again. It was jittery, but managed to keep up with Sally’s paces.

“Ray!” She waved at her friend.

“What?” he called back. He had turned his back to her and the fevine and was instead watching the sky. He was making sure he didn’t see her. “I already told you.”

“Told me what?” she asked, reaching the gate. The fevine was licking her hand. Its rough tongue tickled. It felt like she was rubbing her hand across Velcro straps.

“It won’t last.” Sally stopped dead, her eyes strangely blank. It didn’t fit her. She was always cheerful, always the joker. Now, she was almost a clone of Ray. It was unnerving for said boy, to say the least. He could count on one hand how many times he had seen Sally like this.

Now, the grand total was one.

“I already know that!” she suddenly exploded. “You already told me that! I know that they don’t live as long as humans! I am not some stupid little girl! I’m older than you are, Ray!” She paused for a while, probably to catch her breath. Her face was tinged red, something that only happened if she was laughing really hard. Not anymore. “And I’m better than you. At least I’m not a jerk. I have had it with you.” She took a deep, ragged breath.

“I regret ever falling in love with you.”

Ray froze. Did she say what he thought she said? All of a sudden, he felt somebody push past him, and he ended up on the ground. Blinking at the now-large blades of grass, he didn’t try to stand up. His mind was still reeling in shock.

Behind the fence, the fevine purred, blissfully unaware of what it had caused. Ray was envious of it.

Not just for that fact, but also that Sally actually came back for it. When he visited again the next day, the fevine was gone.