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She had a white streak in her black hair, like a wild child fallen from heaven and looking for fun.  She walked into Marianne’s party, dressed in black lace and fishnets, with stilettos and red lipstick, and every woman in the place pulled their young men a little closer, laughed a little louder, touched a little lower, all in an attempt to keep their attention of her.

But I didn’t have the blessing of a protector in flesh and blood.  I tried to remind myself that I had a girlfriend, that we were happy together, that she was beautiful.  I tried to remember the exact color of her eyes.  But when Desiree winked at me from across the crowded, noisy living room, it was like someone had wiped her from my whiteboard mind and I was suddenly very glad that she was working that night and couldn’t come to the party.

Desiree sauntered over to me.  “You’re Catherine’s guy, aren’t you?” she asked me.

Oh, yeah, that was her name.  “Yes,” I said and took a drink of whatever happened to be in the red plastic cup I was holding.  Tiny bubbles popped on my tongue.

Desiree smiled.  “I knew her many years ago, when we went to school together.”

“You went to school together?” I asked, mimicking her like a child.

She nodded and I gaped at the waves in her hair.  They shimmered.  I thought of the bay.  “The nuns always liked her better than I.”

I caught a glance from Marianne, the hostess.  She was standing off center in the room, with a group of mutual friends from college, and she raised her eyebrow when she saw who I was talking to.  I gave an unconscious shrug and let my eyes flick back to Desiree, who gave me a smile that almost bordered on a smirk.  She leaned over and as she came closer I caught a whiff of her perfume, something musky and probably bought at Victoria’s Secret.  Whatever it was, it worked.  My eyes almost rolled back into my head.  “I’d love for you to show me around,” she whispered, her breath warming my ear.  Her fingertips brushed against the top of my hand and a switch was flipped.  My feet started to move in her direction as she walked out of the room, parting the waters as the party guest watched her leave.  It was like watching the churning of the tide, seeing the men try to lean a little closer, the women draw them back.  Desiree stood straight and tall, the hem of her skirt swinging just temptingly enough, and I trotted at her heels like a little whimpering dog.  She ignored me, occasionally bestowing a smile on people she knew, and I must have followed her example and gave a few nods to my friends and acquaintances.  I didn’t snap out of my hypnotic state until we left the house and the cold evening air of April distracted me enough to at least zip up my jacket.

She led me down the street filled with parked cars, lit only by a single streetlamp.  We came to my beat-up American-brand sedan.  She kept going.  I followed.  The throbbing music of the party dimmed and my eyes adjusted to the darkness.  The stars twinkled overhead.  The streak in Desiree’s hair seemed to glow.

Finally she stopped at a black convertible.  She flipped her hair around and grinned at me.  “Do you like my baby?” she asked.  I nodded.  She pressed a button on her key ring to unlock the doors.  “Get in.”  I did.

The seats were black leather.  The top went down.  The engine started.  Desiree turned on the radio and some new age techno began to play.  She left the residential zone and merged onto the freeway where she pressed the pedal to the floor and I was pressed into the enveloping seat.  When I turned to look at her I saw her hair whipped into a tempest by the wind.  She kept her eyes on the road for a few minutes and then eased back into her seat.  She turned the radio up.

“Adam’s the name, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, my throat feeling like it was covered in sawdust.  “Yeah.”

“Good name.”

“Thank you.”

“So, Marianne’s party was kinda dead, wasn’t it?”

“Oh yeah, dead,” I answered automatically.  It didn’t occur to me that I’d been having a good time before she’d walked into the door.

“It’s weird being back.  Nobody seems to remember me.”

“Maybe you’ve just changed a lot.”

She laughed, throwing her head back and shaking her head slightly.  “Oh, I think I was always distrusted.  No one really ever liked me.  Maybe they’ve all forgotten me on purpose.”  She glanced off the side of the road.  “When’d they build the Target?”

“Couple years ago.  It has a Starbucks now,” I said.  I looked at her cheek, lit by the commercial lights coming from the side of the freeway.  The other side of her face was bathed in shadow.  The freeway had stayed a border between ‘town’ and ‘country’.  “Do you want to get some coffee or something?”

“I never drink coffee.  It only makes me tired.  I have no desire to be tired tonight.”  She kept her eyes firmly on the road for a few moments and chewed her lip.  “Adam, are you a virgin?”

I choked.  “Excuse me?”

“It’s a simple yes or no question.”  She hadn’t even turned her head yet.

“I’m Catherine’s boyfriend, what do you think?”

She laughed.  “Oh Adam, you silly boy, who you’re dating now has nothing to do with it.”  She slid her left hand to the top of the steering wheel and then placed her right on my thigh, rubbing my jeans slightly.  “I asked if you were a virgin.”

“Yes, I am, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“Of course I’m okay with that,” I said and cuffed her hand away.  “Catherine and I are very happy, thank you very much.”

“You’re a strong man,” she said with approval.  “I’m impressed.  Any other guy in your position would be bragging about all their sexual exploits, real and imaginary, as if they’d make them more credible.”

I crossed my arms and sat up a little straighter.  “Where are we going?” I demanded.

“To the moon,” she answered.

 

I woke up the next morning tangled in rose pink sheets wearing only my boxers.  I jerked up and took a quick survey around the room.  The walls were painted beige and a spider plant was hanging in the corner next to a Thomas Kincaid print.  A digital alarm clock sat on the bedside table and the maroon floral bedspread was shoved to the end of the bed.  On the windowsill an incense stick was down to the very end.  I heard a few metallic bangs from the other side of the door and when I stood up and walked into the kitchen I saw Desiree scrambling eggs in a hand-me-down skillet.  She was wearing low-rise jeans and a tank top.  She turned to look at me as I wandered in and the corners of her lips curled up as she took in my attire.  “Morning Sunshine,” she said and winked at me.

Before I could think of a reply the muffed synthesized tones of Beethoven’s Fifth rang out.  She glanced at the crumpled pile of my jeans, lying on the armchair of the sofa as I dug into my pocket to retrieve my cell phone. I glanced at the caller ID before answering and my chest tightened.  Crap.

I flipped the cell phone open.  “Hello.”

“Morning Sunshine,” Catherine greeted me with her usual cheery sweetness.  I glared at Desiree.  She just gave me a blank look and turned back to the eggs sizzling in the pan.

“Hello”-- I swallowed-- “darling.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“How was the party last night?  I’m really sorry I didn’t get to go with you.”

“That’s fine.  It was fine.”

“Good.”  I could almost hear her soft smile through the phone and it made me cringe.  “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Uh, no, I mean, maybe later.  I’m kinda, you know, smelly.”  I winced.  That was the best I could do?

“Okay, well, I’ll stop by later on today then.  Love you.”

“Love you too,” I parroted back and I hung up.

“I can’t make eggs except when they’re scrambled,” Desiree said as she pulled out two ceramic plates from the cabinet and divvied out the eggs.  She set them on opposite sides of the table along with glasses of frothy orange juice and forks and folded paper towels as napkins.  “Just in case you find yourself with a mess,” Desiree explained when she saw me looking at the place settings.  She stood at one end of the table, waiting for me to take a seat.

I didn’t do it though.  The eggs smelled good, she’d added cheese, but I couldn’t move toward them.  I wasn’t hungry.

“I have to go,” I said.  Desiree looked at me.  She weaved her fingers together under her chin.

“You should eat,” she said.

“I can’t stay.”

“So that’s the truth, isn’t it?” she asked.  She sounded sad.

I pounded my fists into my forehead.  “I… can’t stay,” I stammered.  “I have to… I can’t…. Catherine.”  I looked up.  “Catherine,” I said.  “Catherine, Catherine, Catherine.”

“I know who she is,” Desiree snapped.  She stood up and ran her fingers through her hair before placing her hands on her hips.  “Are you gonna eat those eggs or not?”

In response I snatched my jeans from the counter and slid them on before dashing back to the bedroom.  I found my shirt lying on the floor, splashed some water on my face in the bathroom, and made sure my car keys were still in my pocket before I walked back into the kitchen of the apartment.  Desiree hadn’t moved from her spot but was still staring at the empty space that my body had occupied.  She moved her head to look at me when I walked back in.

“Someday you’ll thank me for this,” she said.

“Go to hell,” I answered before I slammed the door.

 

I stopped into a gas station on the corner to ask for directions back to the street that Marianne lived on.  The old man behind the counter yawned and pulled out a map.  “You’re here Sonny; you wanna go there.”  He pointed at a squiggly line that intersected another squiggly line.  “Might wanna take a bus.”

“No, that’s fine, I can walk,” I said.  I shuffled out the door and turned in the direction he’d pointed in.  The land was flat and although I felt a breeze every time a car whizzed past me the sun beat down on my back.  Sweat collected on my brow.  It was hot for early spring.  A car honked at me.  I turned and saw a white sedan that seemed vaguely familiar.  It slowed down and stopped at the corner.  As I walked closer to it the window slid down and a voice called out.

“Adam, what are you doing?”

The voice sounded like music.  I winced.  “Hey Catherine,” I answered.  I leaned down to peer into the window.

Her golden hair seemed to float.  She was wearing white.  I had to stop myself from pounding my fist on the car roof in frustration.  White.  Why white?  Why not red?

“What happened to your car?” she asked.  I shrugged.

“I felt like going for a walk.”

She glanced at me sideways before checking her mirrors for passing cars.  “You’re pretty far from home.  Let me give you a ride back.”

It would’ve been strange for me not to accept it.  I opened the door and slid in.  Her seats were plush, beige, normal.  The radio was on soft rock, some song that everyone recognizes but no one knows all the words to.  Except Catherine.  She sang along with her clear, high voice.  It was a love song.  Something about trust.  I stared out the window so I didn’t have to look at her.  But I felt her eyes on me.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said, “why wouldn’t it be?”

“I was just thinking maybe something happened at the party that you wanted to talk about.”

“Nothing happened,” I said.

There was a pause.  Then I heard her sigh.  “Very well Adam, if you say so.”

 

When we arrived at my house she didn’t comment on the fact that my driveway was empty.  When I climbed out of the car she told me she loved me and I gave some sort of response.  I walked up to the front door and let myself in.

It was silent.  I glanced at the answering machine on the table in the hall and saw the light blinking.  When I pressed the button Marianne’s high-pitched, worried voice came through, asking about my car and the fact that it was still on her street.  I groaned.  I picked up the phone and called up my friend Drew, to ask a favor.

He came by within ten minutes.  “Must’ve been one hell of a party if you’re not sure how you got home,” he said with a smirk on his face.  I shook my head.

“I don’t even want to know.”

“Hey, I understand, what happens at Marianne’s stays at Marianne’s.”  He laughed.  Drew had tanned skin all year round from working in construction, and his teeth were white and straight.  His mouth opened really wide when he laughed, and his blond hair was streaked.  He looked like the Ken dolls my little sister had when she was six and girls still liked to play with him.

When we arrived at Marianne’s the street was deserted except for my car.  Drew pulled up and I got out and shook his hand.  “Thanks, I owe you.”

“No big deal,” he said.  “It happens.”  He glanced over when we heard the sound of a door closing and saw Marianne walking toward us, her hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.

“There you are, I was worried about you,” she said to me.  “What happened?  You and Desiree just disappeared and no one knew where you were.”

“Desiree?” Drew asked.  I slowly nodded my head.  “What the hell were you doing with her?”

Marianne crossed her arms.  “Next time call someone please,” she said.  I felt like saluting her.

“Yes ma’am,” I said.  She shook her finger at me.

“Don’t pull that crap with me.  Go home and get some rest; you look like you got the Devil run through you.”

Marianne watched as I trudged over to my car and waited until I’d started the engine before turning to go back into the house.  Drew was still parked on the street and when I pulled away he followed me, all the way home.  When we both had parked he walked over to me.

“What happened between you and Desiree?” he snapped, his eyes slits.  Desiree was an ex-girlfriend of his and he’d been burnt by her.

I shrugged.  “Dunno.”

“C’mon, that’s not funny.”

“I honestly don’t know,” I said as stuck my key in the door.  But when I turned it the door had locked.  I glanced at Drew who jerked his thumb towards the driveway where Catherine’s car sat.  I glanced back at him and he just crossed his arms as if telling me, ‘you got yourself into this trouble buddy.’

Catherine was sitting on the couch with her arms crossed, staring straight ahead.  She stood up immediately when we walked in but didn’t walk over to us.  “Where did you go?”

“Left something at Marianne’s,” I answered as I hung my keys up.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Drew silently walk into the kitchen and help himself to a glass of water.  He didn’t seem inclined to give me any help in the situation.  I walked over to her and ran my fingers through her hair.  Her body didn’t respond to my touch.

“Are you okay?” she asked.  “You’re acting so weird.”

I looked into her eyes—they were blue, blue like the sky the exact moment the sun dips below the horizon—as if I could find the answer she wanted to hear in them.  She shuddered.  “Desiree is in town; she was at the party,” she commented with forced nonchalance.  “Did you see her?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Did you talk to her?”

“A little.”

“Did you leave with her?”

I stepped back.  “Catherine, I—”

“No, I get it,” she said.  She bent down and grabbed her purse.  “She called me while you were out.  Told me to look out for you.  Said you weren’t looking too good last night.  Or this morning.”  She looked up at me pointedly.  “I need to get back, I have work to do.  Call me if you want.” She turned on her heel and left the room.  I heard the front door close and closed my eyes.  I sat down on the couch.  Drew wandered back and handed me a glass of water which I gulped down.

“You’re in deep s**t man,” he said.  “You can’t go playing with her heart.  Catherine’s in it for keeps.”

“I’m not even sure what happened,” I said.  Drew grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eye.

“That girl’s trouble, d’y’hear?”

“I know that,” I said.  Drew shook his head.

“Whatever.  Go shower or something; I need to get going.”  He thumped me on the shoulder and left.

I took his advice and took a long, warm shower.  It felt good.  Then I got dressed in clean clothes and grabbed a bite to eat.  The phone rang.  I answered it.

“I didn’t sleep with you, you know,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

I grimaced.  “How am I supposed to believe you?”

“I know you won’t, but I figured I should tell you anyway.  So you can let Catherine know that.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“You were the one who brought her up,” snapped Desiree.  “Just tell her I gave you a little test and you passed it.  Flying colors, or whatever it is they say.”

I groaned.  “Desiree, what are you doing in town anyway?”

There was silence at the other end of the line for some time.  Finally I heard her suck in her breath.  “My mom died.  I came for the funeral.  She left me the apartment.  I needed to get out so I heard about Marianne’s party and I went.  I was hoping to pick someone up.  You were the only one who had the courage to look back,” she said.  There was a pause.  “Look,” she snapped, “I can give you every detail of the night if you want but that wouldn’t make a difference.  The point is nothing happened and I slept on the couch.  You woke up in boxers moron.”

The phone clicked.

I put the phone back in its cradle and stared at it for awhile.  Then I wandered into the bathroom where I stared at my reflection.  My face was scruffy from not shaving over the past twenty-four hours and my hair was still damp from the shower.  I was inclined to believe Desiree.  My reflection turned blurry from me staring at it so long.  I turned around and strode out of the bathroom.  I grabbed my keys and let the door slam behind me.

My car almost didn’t need me to tell it where to go; it knew.  I pulled up in Catherine’s driveway.  I decided not to knock and instead walked right in.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, her chin in her hands, various papers in front of her.  I smiled when I walked up to her and kissed the top of her golden hair.  She jumped a bit and I whispered into her ear, “I love you Catherine.”

She turned in her seat.  There were tears in her eyes.  “I know,” she said.  “But sometimes I’m worried that your heart forgets.”

“My heart can’t forget you, it’s my brain that’s an idiot,” I answered.  I kissed her again and then took her hand.  “Come on,” I said.

She stood and followed me out the kitchen, through the hall, and out the door.  “Where are we going?” she asked me as she slid into the passenger seat of my car.  I kissed her again before answering.

“To the moon.”

Author's Note

I don't currently have a title for this story; any ideas would be helpful.