“Do you love me?” She asks.
I don’t know how to reply. I most certainly do not love her. Seeing as we just had sex I don’t think I should tell her that.
I light a cigarette. “I can’t say.”
“You don’t then. Why did tonight happen?”
“Tonight happened because ever since we met there’s been nothing but innuendo and sexual tension between us. I was just sleep deprived enough and you were just drunk enough that we acted on it.”
“So you’re saying that it normally wouldn’t have happened?”
“I’m saying that I normally wouldn’t have let it happen.”
“Get out.”
Conclusion for the night: Alison was right. I just shouldn’t talk.

I look at my watch as I leave Anastasia’s house, Eleven forty. The eleven PM hour hasn’t been good for me lately. I’m standing in front of her house, all trenchcoat and cigarette and attitude. All I need to complete the picture is a streetlight to lean against.
My vehicle is back Downtown so I get to walk. Normally I would take this time to do something exciting, but seeing as I’ve totally destroyed tonight I think I’ll just go to Denny’s.
Katelin and Tammi should be there. It’s not like they have a choice, they work there.
So, of course, I manage to guess wrong. Katelin is there but not Tammi.
“Hiya beautiful.” She says.
I manage a smirk, I don’t think I look beautiful at all seeing as I just walked quite a ways, and I haven’t taken the time to nicely arrange my clothes or my jewelry. But it’s a nice thought.
“Hrmmurflegurm.”
“Riiight. how ‘bout over here?” I follow her over to a small booth thing. It’s not like I have a choice. Really what else would I do? Jump on the counter and demand equal size booths in every Denny’s, all the time, until the police came for me? Sure. And maybe I’ll go to a Greenpeace rally.
So I’m sitting there. Wondering at the composition of ‘Buffalo’ sauce and Anastasia comes in and sits down.
“Isn’t it courtesy to ask if you can sit with someone after you throw them out of your house?”
“You didn’t have to leave.”
“So...what? I should have stayed there and begged forgiveness?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? Have you ever known me to beg?”
“No, but for me?”
“For more unphenomenal sex?” I lie, so well.
She tries to slap me. I put my arm up just as I see her shoulder moving and block her left hand, she tries with her right but I grab her wrist.
“You’re evil.” she says.
“So people keep telling me.”
Katelin wanders up just after I let go of her arms “More coffee sweetness?”
Sweetness. How amusing. “Yes please.”
She pours, wanders off. Katelin the Coffee Godess. One day I’ll give her a plaque saying so.
I look at my coffee, smoke curling off it. It reminds me of Anastasia’s naked body. I suddenly want her again. Bad for me. I have a reputation to uphold.
So I stare at her and think about my reputation.
(All things considered I’ve only gone out of my way to hurt my reputation once: “See here ____, this is bad for my reputation but nothing happened with _____.” It’s interesting to note that my womanizing, lying, fuck-’em-and leave-’em, generally Evil reputation is only about half true. I usually have the decency to explain that it’s not going to mean anything in the morning beforehand then they get upset in the morning. I also have a mostly un-interrupted streak of cheating on my girlfriends. This usually doesn’t make them happy. But it’s only stopped one person from dating me. Very interesting, indeed.)

Anastasia is just a Godess. Hair and Lipstick and Black (now two weeks gone) was beautiful. Anastasia is the perfect Goth Godess. She’s five-six, one-sixteen, 32B. Currently her mid-back dyed black hair is in a ponytail, highlighting the skin across her cheekbones. She even has decent music.

“I could have found somebody else/One hundred degrees sitting by my side”
--Blitz “Solar”

I met her about six months ago when she first moved to Santa Cruz, mostly by accident. I was on my way to go to someplace or another to dance and stopped to quest for a Jolt (“Twice the Caffeine”) in 7-11 and came stalking around the corner and I slammed into her. I grabbed her before she fell, one arm wrapping around her waist, the finger nails of my other hand digging into her shoulder, our eyes met. That was the accidental part.
“Hi.” I said.
“Hello.”
“Erm, I apologize for that, I was going over there,” I sort of tossed my head in the general direction of the cooler. “But I like to pick up on women by knocking them to the floor.”
“You caught me.”
“Ah. But only literally.”
“We’ll see.”
We exchanged phone numbers, did something together for almost a month straight. I didn’t want to sleep with her. She made a good ornament (G is for Goth, having one with you counts as a fashion accessory!) and she was fun to spend time with. So it grew more and more infrequent that we saw each other.
Then she called me a week ago.
“So, Jack, I’m going to a party Saturday.”
“Oh, and you want me to…”
“Come with me.”
“Ah. Of course, when?”
So we made plans. I picked her up. We went to dinner. We went a frolicking at a park. We went to the party. I took her to coffee after.
“So I’m going to go now.” She said.
“Want me to take you home?”
“No, just walk with me, then you can tuck me in.”
I should have seen it right there.
“Alright.”

So we went to her house. I rifled through her shirts for the one she sleeps in, took off her shirt, bra, skirt, shoes, stockings. Put her shirt on, lay her down, tucked her in.
“G’night.”
“G’night. No goodbye kiss?” She asks.
“I haven’t slept for thirty some hours, I really want to go home.”
“It’ll just be quick.”
For some reason as I stare down at her I have Pops from Star Wars yelling “They came from behind! Arghhh!” I should have taken it as a warning.
I sit on the bed, lean over and kiss her.
I wrap my arms around her and note that her pillow is really soft. I try to get up but she says: “Kiss me again.”
So I do. And it’s long and passionate. Her clock says nine-27. It’s early.
“Can I stay here?”
“Yesss…”
And she pulls me down again…

The rest is the beginning of the end.

Watch says one-27. Four hours exactly. And she’s staring at me.

“If you cant take the heat, get Yo ass outta the kitchen. We on a Mission.”
--Coolio “Fantastic Voyage”

“You were telling me I’m evil?”
Evil look. “You are. What was tonight about?”
“Sex.”
“Obviously. What happens now?”
“I don’t know, you got what you wanted. Why don’t you tell me?”
“I got what I wanted? Are you saying you didn’t?”
“My position is it would have been better if it hadn’t have happened.”
“You’re a fuckin’ prick.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you want to at least be dating?”
“No. I liked us as friends.”
“We can’t just go back.”
“I know.”
“Fuck you.” She says, gets up, straightens her shirt, leaves.
Katelin comes over.
“More coffee?”
“Yeah.”

Two weeks later I found out she moved to L.A.. I like to think that she was going to anyway.
Of course, I like to think she would have told me she was planning to.

It’s a clear night, Orion easily visible in the night sky.
I’m with Anastasia, we’re at Evergreen Cemetery, one of my favorite places, sitting on a mausoleum next to a hillside.
“What do you think of Santa Cruz?” I ask.
“Kinda small, but it’s pretty cool.”
“Have to make you’re own fun here.”
“So I’ve discovered, it’s hard sometimes.”
“Yeah, but I’ve grown used to it, stick with me. Exciting event a minute.”
“I think I can do that.” She says, leans over, rests her head on my shoulder.
I notice her eyes, wide, glittering the moonlight.

10/20/97