Sex Kittens and Horn Dawgs Fall in Love Read Online Free

invaluable tip!
    In order to make two into one . . . see the world through the
eyes of your partner. . . .
    Matthew and I will be sure to invite both of you to the wedding.
    To review: I am, first and foremost, a poet.
    But in the case of Me and Matthew, it will not be a sonnet or a limerick or a haiku, not Shakespeare or Emily Dickinson or even Anonymous who will provide the Secret Decoder Ring of Loooooooooove.
    It will be SCIENCE.
    WHAT IS X?
    X (also known as IT, but X sounds more Scientific and that is the KEY!) is the thing that makes Love Work Out. X is what makes soulmates recognize each other across crowded rooms and turns just-friends into the love-of-my-life, never had a fight and pass me another slice of that 50 th anniversary cake, puh-leeze! Most importantly, X is what gives a Sex Kitten guaranteed, ongoing proximity to a Horn Dawg. The math on this is très simple:
    Kitten + Dawg + X
= strolling in the park As One,
hand snuggling in hand
= lunching together in the cafeteria,
tray nuzzling against tray
= being envied by the envious throngs
who think of you as a Permanently
Melded Couple— FeliciaMatthew, or
MatthewFelicia, for example.
    X is a Total Mystery, an Unnamed Source, a Top Secret Classified Document with all the juicy parts crossed out. X has blocked its Caller ID and hangs up before leaving a message.
    BUT by using the cold, rational, completely objective tools of SCIENTIFIC research, I am going to unmask the mean ing of X and discover the Secret of Love.
    And Matthew Dwyer, Boy Scientist and GeniusDawg of Data, is going to help me.
    P.S. He does not know this. Yet.
I’m going to tell him today.
    “You’re going to do WHAT?”
    Jess is looking at me with those alarmingly raised eyebrows. Her mouth is open, too, in a perfectly round shape. She looks like a cartoon of a surprised person.
    Kat has remembered that she no longer chews her hair. She is now sucking on the tassel of her scarf. “You are too much, Felicia,” she says. “Too. Much.” This is tough talk from Kat, who thinks more but says less than most people.
    I knew Jess and Kat would need some time to rally round the Scientific Search for X. Early this morning, after my visit from the Yellow Highlighter of Destiny and before I got in the shower, I dashed off the first draft of my X-cellent Manifesto (see above) and e-mailed the Kittens a sneak preview. With fingers Xed, you might say, since I know my worried pals are reaching the limits of their patience when it comes to my obsess— whoops, my feelings about Matthew.
    “I guess you got my e-mail,” I say in my what’s-the-big-deal voice. Now truly fearing for my sanity, Jess and Kat have intercepted me at Third Avenue where the M15 bus lets me off. We’re rounding the corner of East Nineteenth and Irving Place, right at the point where the Pound comes into view.
    It’s a bright, sparkly winter morning, and the sun is melting what’s left of the snow into dirt-flavored Slurpee. The Pound has these funny curved windows up the front of its five brownstone stories. If the light is in the right place and you squint, it looks like the building is smiling at you, like the man in the moon smiles at you wherever you go. The building looks like that now. I take that as a good sign.
    But Jess is not smiling. Those expressive eyebrows have furrowed low over her darkest brown, almost black eyes. Jess sometimes looks like Little Orphan Annie, with her frizzed reddish-brown hair and dot eyes. I mean that in a good way. She’d never describe herself as cute, but she is, even when she’s stomping through slush and ranting, like so:
    “Fee, LISTEN. I think you are making a BIG mistake. Number one, you are obsessed.”
    “People go insane,” adds Kat.
    “Number two, once you TELL him, you can never UN-tell him! You will have to LIVE with the consequences of this CONFESSION until we are SENIORS!” I think she means senior year, but Jess is always so EMPHATIC in her OPINIONS that maybe