Kind of Allergic
"You don't have any cats, do you?" Kevin looked nervous. "No, don't worry." Laurie smiled. "You allergic?"
Kevin couldn't look at her. "Kind of." Laurie dropped it and let him in. Her birthday party was in full swing, and everyone toasted her again as she returned to the living room. She danced with Marla, arm wrestled Ben, opened a bottle of beer with her teeth, and frolicked her night away.
Hours later, she was outside, saying goodbye to the last friends to leave, Kevin among them. Everyone was laughing at one of Chuck's jokes until, one by one, they noticed Kevin standing stock still and silent. They tracked his stare across the street to a stray cat, equally frozen, staring back at Kevin. Laurie looked at him. "What—"
Kevin bolted. The cat shot after him. He'd only gotten a few steps before the cat leapt on his back and Kevin fell to the ground. Someone cried, "Oh my god!" and someone else moved to help. Everyone slowed to a stop and stared as Kevin's clothes collapsed, deflating inward. Dozens of rats ran in all directions, save one the cat caught, leaving Kevin's clothes empty, smelling faintly of rat and deodorant.