“What?” she asked me when I didn’t stop staring at her eyes.

“Sorry,” I apologized quickly, looking away. “What was your cat’s name again?”

She laughed, “Dog actually, his name is Timothy, but most of the time I call him schmoopy.”

“Schmoopy?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why or how, but one day I came home and was petting him and cooing and it just sort of came out…”

“Kat did that with her sister once,” I mused quietly.

“What did I do?” She asked in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“You said ‘Kat did that,’ what did I do?”

“I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about—wait, whoa, what? Your name is Kat?”

“Well, no, my name is Katelyn, but a lot of my friends call me Kat.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Um, no?” She looked really creeped out by me at this point and to be honest I was getting really freaked. Why the fuck was this happening? I couldn’t go anywhere without finding Kat and now here was some random chick with Kat’s eyes and Kat’s name!

“I’ve gotta go…” I said quickly and bolted for the door.