Daisy

            F**k.

            I spilled my drink on that girl in the peach dress and now she’s glaring at me like I burned her. Excuse me, princess. I’m here because I want to get drunk. John invited me to this party because he knows I need it. John always knows. Guy best friends are my favorite. With John, we always have nights like this: we drink, we flirt, and we remain friends. Guys are my favorite.

            John left me outside to go get drinks, but my feet are muddy as hell so it’s distracting. Some guy decided to bring a foam machine, but really it just spits out bubbly, brown water. I think I just stepped on someone, but honestly I’m too drunk that I probably just stepped on myself. There are too many people here. I keep trying to suck myself in to squeeze through all these bodies, but it’s hard to make myself smaller when my thoughts are so big.

            I don’t know anyone else at this party except for John. I recognize faces, but to admit I know their names would just be an embarrassment. I know that I’m invisible. I’m standing next to two girls who are hooking up with the same guy. I don’t care, but I can’t help but listen, because I’m lonely and tipsy. I keep seeing this cat that distracts me every now and then, but she keeps disappearing. It’s an orange tabby with black eyes and a tail that swishes and swooshes, ticking and taunting. Someone told me her name is Daisy.
            Daisy, here Daisy, come here kitty.

            F*****g cat keeps ignoring me and I have no idea why. I like cats, why don’t cats like me?

            Daisy reminds me of when my ex boyfriend and I used to watch goldfish in the pet store. They would just swim all day, for hours, in those tiny water prisons. They never got bored. They never stopped. I can never understand how fish keep doing the same thing for their entire lives. I guess it’s the same as being human: always breathing. Well, Micheal and I broke up last week and now I’m standing here, alone as f**k in a crowd of people too large to even begin to count, and all I can think about is that damn cat. Micheal didn’t like cats. That should have been my first clue. It’s all over now, but I want to feel numb. I want to ignore the needles of memories sewing into my skin. I need to be drunk.

            The foam is melting around my ankles, spitting everywhere from the wind so I decide to go inside. Somehow I spin into this guy, Conrad’s, arms. I was already spinning from the liquor so I sort of just spun until I began dancing. We dance anonymously for a while until he gives me a secret smile and nods to the corner. The dance floor is too sweaty and crowded for intimate eye contact anyway.

            Conrad is black. That shouldn’t matter, but at the same time it kind of does, because I have never kissed a black guy before. I’m interested. I’m curious.

            He wears a safari hat even though I strictly remember the party theme invite said, “Glow in the Dark Neon.” The hat fits him, in a way that tight clothes fit large women. He has round glasses that make me worry if he really has eyes behind those thick frames. I don’t think I’ll find out.

            His tongue is too slippery and it feels like a salamander is slithering its way between my teeth and is melting into the back of my throat. My mouth is dry and sour when I pull away.

            I begin to think about Daisy again while Conrad and I stand there. The ceiling suddenly fascinates him. I decide to look for her again because anything would be better than having an amphibian choke me again. I see a quick turn of orange around the bar, so I trail after her, crouching with hands ready. I am perched to pounce, but when I slide around the corner, I find only a drunken freshman curled up, cradling a bottle of wine like it is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. I’m frustrated because I’m obsessing over a stupid cat that wouldn’t love me anyway. I’m always f*****g chasing things. It’s a damn cat, but if I catch her, at least I will succeed in something tonight.

            I ignore Conrad following me as I walk outside and swim through the foam. From the calf down, my legs are black and heavy. It makes me feel very mysterious, as if I have been backpacking in some African village for weeks with no shoes on.

            I swear I see Daisy twirling through thickets of foam, but I realize I’m just crazy when John shows up. He hands me a drink and we cheer to new days. He whispers in my ear, but it sounds like he’s talking through a wall. I’m still looking for Daisy.

            I kind of stumble into kissing John. I think I tripped, but instead of catching me with his arms, like a gentleman, he pushes his lips to mine and promptly says here I am and his lips are sticky.

            I wonder if he’s gone diving in the foam with his head first, but that sounds silly so I just keep kissing him instead. He reminds me of being in sixth grade, our lockers side by side, as I helped him flirt with my best friend. I remember playing ultimate Frisbee and eating tacos at midnight in the park. He reminds me of throwing trash all over our middle school because we were so f*****g done with it. He was there the first time I got drunk at that random guy’s house. This is John. This is me.

            But then I see a flame sprint by me. I unravel from John and run through the back gate.

            Damn it, Daisy!

            I feel like I am running on the sky, instead of the ground, because my brain has completely flipped over, but my legs keep working. I feel like I am stuck in syrup. My mind is working so fast, but my body can’t keep up. I can run forever. I can catch Daisy.

            She struts down the street, tail flicking like a jeering finger, inviting me closer. Her nails click-clack down the road. No cars exist in this limbo between dusk and dawn where time doesn’t make sense. Daisy trots in the middle of the road, owning my world, because cats are narcissistic little b*****s that will claw the s**t out of their owners, knowing that there will still be food in the bowl tomorrow.

            I follow Daisy for an amount of steps that I can’t stop counting. At step 217, I look up and see a shadow of remembrance. He is shorter than I thought, and a little chubbier, which I guess I don’t mind. Al isn’t smart. He isn’t cute. He’s just here and Daisy isn’t.

            I walk up to him and I can’t stop myself before I kiss him. I kiss him in the middle of the street where the world becomes very, very flat. My legs are itchy from the dried mud, but I know it doesn’t matter. Al probably thinks that it’s gross, but f**k it because all I really want is that damn cat. Al doesn’t have to know that. It’s my own little secret.

            He takes my hand and says over here. I stumble and laugh this horrendous hiccup noise that sounds more like a sob. Al glances back at me and says you were in my English class right

            And I think maybe that means he noticed me, but it really doesn’t. He doesn’t know anything about me and I don’t know anything about him at all. That makes him the perfect guy to forget Micheal. I can be numb. There won’t be any romantic feelings that make my skin feel tight. There won’t be anything but breathing. Daisy would have been better, to make me forget myself, because cats are the only companions that listen. It’s okay. Al is a replacement, not a solution.

            The grass suffocates under my muddy legs. I’m probably confusing it because grass is supposed to come from mud, not die by the hands of it. We all adjust eventually.

            Al is standing up and I’m sitting down, when he asks me can you suck it and I am spinning a little bit and I kind of feel like throwing up. Instead I shrug and lean forward. I can’t taste or feel. I only hear myself screaming who are you

            I don’t think it really matters. All I want is to pet that damn cat, but I can’t find her. I can’t find myself. I guess I can pet Al instead if I really f*****g want to. I can do anything tonight.

            Al laughs do you wanna and I say what before he pushes me down and laughs at me again. He opens his mouth and all I see are his stupid, crooked teeth, yellowed from the stains of humanity.

            And while Al grins down at me, I turn my head and I see a mustard-stained tail curl in front of my eyes. I laugh then too and hold out a single finger, encouraging her. She licks my hand and purrs. I ignore the pounding between my legs. I stroke her back, memorizing the color of copper and fire.