I walked into my apartment after a long day of work and plopped down on the couch, and I thought about her again, like I do almost every day; the girl in the apartment above me. Whenever I get home from work she'd be on her balcony, her laptop in front of her. I'll bet she's a starving artist; a writer who's trying to get her script just perfect, or maybe she's studying a film to improve her acting. Either way, she looked cute when she hunches over her computer, focused on whatever it is she does. I sighed a little, then a voice from the window shattered my little daydream. 

 

"You were staring at her again. I saw you."

 

I was tired of this. I wish Max would just shut up about it and let it be. I don't want to let him have the final word, though, so I lied. "No, I just stopped at the front of the building and checked my phone for a minute."

 

Max didn't miss a beat. "You stopped in front of the building, yes, but I distinctly saw you not looking down at your phone, but looking up. Presumably at her, and for a good twenty seconds at my count. You were staring at her." Ironically, I growled. 

 

Max leapt off the windowsill and walked toward me. "You know, I'm not opposed to the practice of seeking out one's potential mate; it's a common instinct in almost all mammals. However, I have to question your methods in light of the big picture." He paused his monologue to lick his paw. "What are you hoping to achieve in simply repeating the first step in the human mating ritual over and over without moving to step two?" 

 

He'd been like this more than usual lately, commenting on my lack of social skills. "You're one to talk, Max. I'm not about to pay any mind to relationship advice from my cat." 

 

He growled, probably because I insulted him. Good. He needs to know his place. Ever since I learned I could understand him, he's been taking every opportunity to try to govern my life. Thankfully, he's all talk. "First of all, as I've told you before, you will call me by my full given name, Maximus Decimus Meridius." 

 

My face hit the palm of my hand. "I should never have named you after the guy from Gladiator. I should've named you something simple, like Chris, or Socks, or something." 

 

Maximus cleared his throat (or the mental equivalent of it) and continued. "If you're done now... secondly, I am certainly qualified to give you a pointer here and there about how to conduct yourself in the pursuit. I have, as the young ones say, 'hooked up' with a tabby or two before..." I turned my head and looked at him incredulously. There was no way; he was an indoor cat, and I always locked the window whenever I left the apartment. He could sense my disbelief, and said in a vague manner, "I'll never tell," as he laid down and stretched. 

 

I got up from the couch and went to the window, opening it for some fresh air to clear my mind. I exhaled and leaned on the windowsill, taking in the glorious view of the broken down hotel across the street. "I dunno, Max. She's just really cute, and she seems pretty charming, even from a distance. But what do you want me to do, go up and just start talking to her?" 

 

"If that will finally get you over your stalkerish activities, then yes! My goodness, why is it so difficult for you to simply begin a conversation with the girl?" Max hopped onto the small kitchen table, knocking some papers to the floor in the process. "Oops," he muttered, and I saw him rummaging around for something. Or he was just plain making a mess. I wouldn't be surprised either way. 

 

"Okay, I'm not stalking her," I explained, trying to vindicate my good name, "a stalker would... you know, stalk. Follow. I live in the same building as her; I already know where she lives... Hey, I don't mean it like that!" I shot a glance over at him, already knowing he'd try to twist my words. "I'm just... she's attractive, so I'm admiring her, that's all."

 

"Right, not a stalker. Just a creep."

 

I pounded my fist on the windowsill. There was no point in hiding it anymore. Otherwise, Max was just going to get more snarky. "I'm scared, alright? I haven't talked to her because, what if I go up there and completely screw it up? Like, I don't even know where to start a conversation with her. I'd probably start stuttering and mumbling, and she'd see me as the awkward and lame guy I really am." I hung my head; this was the mantra that bombarded my thoughts every time I looked up at her from the sidewalk. "I'm not good enough."

 

Max bounded up onto the couch beside me and dropped a pencil and a notepad on the armrest. "While I won't argue with you about being awkward and lame, I won't let you say you're not good enough. Because even if you can't always get to that place where you're good enough, you can always work toward it. And maybe, just maybe, you'll be fortunate enough to get it without deserving it. Mercy beckons us, and we need to open our eyes and take it." He nudged the notepad toward me, and the pencil rolled off the armrest. "If you're having a hard time conjuring the words, maybe some pre-written dialogue will help?"

 

I almost couldn't believe it. Words of motivation and comfort from him? I had to smile, and I pet him as I bent down to pick up the pencil. "Mmm," he muttered, "the things I do for some nice scritches." I spent the next ten minutes thinking and writing down some of my feelings on paper, while also brainstorming some conversation starters. Anything and everything I could think of, from simple Hi's and Hello's, to the more bold and daring What's up's and How are you doing's. 

 

After I was satisfied with my writing, I proudly closed the notepad with a flourish and set it down on the armrest. "Not bad, huh?" Max was stirring by my legs, so I reached down and scratched his head a little, getting a warm purr out of him. I liked it when he acted like a normal cat, instead of a hyper-intelligent jerk. Feeling good with the progress I'd made, I stepped back and made my way toward the TV, flipping it on with a push of the button on the remote. As I turned on my gaming console, Max confronted me.

 

"What are you doing? Aren't you planning on moving onto the next step, now?" He was still on the floor as I picked up my game controller. 

 

Honestly, I still felt scared, but I also felt comfortable with just having written the notes down. One heart-to-heart moment with Max was enough for today, so I figured I could reason with him. "Yeah, I'm definitely going to do that, but not right now. I've made so much headway, that I think it's time to relax a little, you know? I think maybe I'll talk to her tomorrow."

 

Max was silent for a moment, then he began to hiss in anger. I put down my controller; I couldn't remember the last time he'd acted like this. "Tomorrow? You'll talk to her... tomorrow?" He sputtered the words, pacing around my feet. Finally, he hopped up onto the couch. "I didn't want to have to do this. I thought you would realize what needed to be done, and when to do it, but it looks like, due to your procrastination, I will have to take it into my own paws to get you there." He then took the notepad in his mouth and sprung up onto the windowsill, and he disappeared outside.

 

I scrambled to my feet and ran to the window, sticking my head out. I could see Max expertly balancing on the window ledge, but before I could grab him, he leapt forward safely onto the fire escape. He casually trotted up, and I didn't even have to wait to see where he was going; it was obvious. I bolted out of my apartment as fast as I could, and made my way down the hall and up the stairs as fast as my feet could carry me. At last, I skidded to a stop in front of the door; her door. "Max, you idiot," I grumbled under my breath as I too a breath for composure, then knocked. 

 

The door opened partway, and the girl stuck her head in the opening. Just one look at her face, and I could tell she was more beautiful than I assumed she was, and I was taken aback. "Hey, what can I do you for?" she asked in a casual voice. I stood there like a statue, gaze fixed on her face, just like always. Finally, my brain kicked in and realized I had to say something, so I said the first thing I wrote on my notepad: "Hi."

 

She tilted her head to the side. "...hi. Can I help you with anything?" She didn't open the door any further than necessary to carry this awful conversation. 

 

My brain continued to spit out random thoughts at the speed of molasses. "Can I... You're... Um, my... My cat. Have you seen a-- a cat?" At least it was better than just 'hi'.

 

Her face softened a little, and she smiled. "Oh, um, yeah. Actually, I have. It's in my living room right now. Is it yours?" I was about to (try to) respond, when she laughed a little. "Geez, maybe I should, oh I dunno, show you the cat before asking you that. Come on in." The girl upstairs, the one I'd fantasized about, opened the door for me to enter her apartment. Her small home was built to look identical to all the other rooms in the building, but while it fundamentally looked the same as mine, she had laid it out so differently. While I struggled to keep my apartment some level of organized, hers was minimalist and clean. Very nice. Now that the door was open, I could see her from head to toe, which I had to stop myself from actually doing for too long. She had dirty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and what she was wearing seemed far more fashionable than my plain t-shirt and jeans combo. I pulled my eyes from her and scanned her immaculate living room until my eyes fell on a certain thick-headed feline. Max was laying on a comfy-looking armchair, and he didn't seem to react as our eyes met.

 

I pointed at him sheepishly. "Yep, uh, that's him." I walked over to him and scooped him up.

 

"Huh. Your cat only just came onto my balcony a minute ago. You found him pretty fast." 

 

"Yeah... I saw him making his way up the fire escape and since your place is the first stop up, I, uh, thought I’d check here first..." Not a bad excuse. Since it was mostly true, it had been pretty easy. "Um, thanks for... looking after him?" I chuckled awkwardly as I made my way to the door, trying to hide my embarrassment by turning my face away from hers. As I reached for the door handle, though, she piped up.

 

"This notepad, is it yours, too?"

 

I whipped around, probably faster than I should have, and my eyes grew wide. She had one hand on her hip, and held my little notepad in the other. My mind panicked, but I did my best to seem calm; didn't want her to be suspicious. "Y-yeah! That's mine. It's mine, yeah. You didn't, um, happen to read it, did you?"

 

The girl shook her head, and I could feel a massive weight lift off my shoulders. Her mouth twisted into a sly grin, and her eyes narrowed. "Why shouldn't I, though? Is it your diary? It'd be a pretty crappy diary, but why else would you keep it away from prying eyes? Military secrets? Mother's secret cake recipe?" She began to slowly lift the cover, and I reflexively snatched it right out of her hands. She looked at me with shock. I had to cover, so my brain overclocked itself to come up with an appropriate response. 

 

"It's... secret. It's a secret, but I can show you, maybe sometime, not now, obviously... If we-- if you and me, we were to..." I slapped my forehead, hoping to calibrate my thoughts. "If we see each other again sometime?" 

 

The look of slight shock on her face disappeared, and she let out a chuckle. "Sure." Then she slapped her own forehead. "Gah, I'm an idiot. I never introduced myself. I'm Dorothy, but everyone calls me Dottie." She stuck out her hand. It took me a second, but I shuffled the notepad and Max around to free my hand enough to shake hers. "Thomas. I'm Thomas. Nice to fin--uh, nice to meet you... Dottie."

 

"Likewise, Thomas." She simply smiled and let go of my hand. "Just let me know when I can see what's in that notepad, okay?"

 

I nodded and smiled back. She got the door for me, and I stepped out into the hallway. Once the door was shut behind me, I let Max down and started toward the elevator. We walked in silence until I pushed the 'down' button, then I heard a familiar purring sound. I looked down at Max, who in turn looked up at me. A small laugh escaped my throat, and I picked him up, petting his little head as the elevator doors closed and we descended.