Studmuffin shrugged his little kitty shoulders. "Besides, familiars can't be choosers. And you desperately needed one to adopt you."
"Okay, calm down." Laughing, I slid my hand down his silky black and white fur. "I admit I'm a witch-in-progress, same as I'm an adult-in-progress. But this college application has nothing to do with me being a witch, so why start talking now?"
He sat between my application and my grimoire. "Your grimoire lay next to the application for years on The Place To Put Things You Don't Want To Think About Today. You made them so they're not mutually exclusive."
"So talking to me is like a gift from you, then? Your version of a half-dead bird left on the floor for me?"
"Sure. Whatever you'd like to think," he said, his sarcasm dial cranked to eleven. Then he
