“I can see what you mean, though,” she said thoughtfully. “That’s quite the drop.” She rubbed her chin.

“Right, so we should find another way. We could fashion some kind of cat-trapping device.”

At that moment the kitten gave a loud meow of protest.

The girl shook her head and said matter-of-factly, “We’re going to have to jump.”

“You’re kidding,” I said.

She shook her head again.

“Hello? We’ll break something.” I put my hand on her arm to try to shake her out of this absurd determination to jump. She ignored me and stood, hands on hips like a superhero, surveying the distance.

Well, I wasn’t going to be dragged down with her.

“How about this,” I said. “You jump. And I’ll go back down this way and just sort of hang out and wait for you there.” I pointed at the relative safety of Oliver’s garden.

Why on earth was I even doing this totally unnecessary thing for a girl I had just met? (I mean, you know why, obviously. She was hot, and I was weak and pathetic, and the sensible part of my brain turned off, and all I could think about was (1) what it might be like to kiss someone with a lip ring, (2) if she had any other piercings, and (3) whether she’d let me find out.)

“I really think it’s only fair if we both jump,” she said seriously, rubbing her chin again. She shook her left foot and then her right as though she was limbering up. I put my hand on her arm to get her attention, but she still didn’t look at me. I wasn’t jumping. Nope. No way.

If I could get her to look me in the eye I knew I could convince her this was a bad idea.

She locked eyes with me then, with a glint in her eye that made me wobble precariously.

“Fine,” I said, admitting defeat.

She grabbed my hand and I felt a tingle up my arm.

“One,” she said, and squeezed my hand tight. “Two.”

“Maybe it isn’t a good idea to do this holding h—”

“Three!”

The girl jumped. I hesitated. Of course, she was still holding my hand, so I was dragged right into the air.

I landed faceup in a rosebush, groaning. Somehow, magically, the girl was standing upright, a gray kitten in her arms, and peering down at me. She looked almost confused about how I’d ended up like this. When I look back on it, I’m sure I lost consciousness for a few seconds.

“I’m gonna be picking thorns out of my bum for a month,” I groaned. Even as I lay there, I knew the alcohol was numbing most of the pain and I’d really feel it tomorrow.

The gray kitten meowed loudly and wriggled in the girl’s arms.