Dark Intentions - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,10

something healthier."

"You mean having anonymous sex with strangers is not the healthiest thing I can do for my mental state?" I asked sarcastically.

She tilted her head with a look of concern.

"Yes, okay," I finally said. "I probably wouldn't be doing this if that ... hadn’t happened."

I couldn’t exactly bring myself to say the word died out loud.

"But the thing is that this is the first thing that has made me feel excited again about life, you know what I mean?" She shook her head no.

"It's maybe stupid and irresponsible, but it's no less responsible than going to bars and just trying to find someone to spend the night with. The last guy I talked to told me flat-out that he was looking for a relationship and I smiled and told him that I was looking for one, too, just because he was hot and he was a good dancer, and I wanted to feel something other than all of this hate, and disappointment, and anger that was just going inside of me all the time."

“What happened?” she asked.

"I went home with him. He wasn't as good at sex as he was at dancing. A little too eager, too quick, didn't really care about where I was in the whole thing. But, whatever, that's the thing. I went home unsatisfied and I'm sick of it. I had to lie to him about my intentions. And for what? I think I need to go to a place like this where everyone is just in there for one thing and just hope that they're really into it and they're good at what they do."

"Oh, you have no idea.” Allison's eyebrows shot up. "I don't want to raise your expectations, but people there take sex very seriously and they do not like to disappoint."

I smiled and she smiled, and then we both cracked up laughing.

8

Jacqueline

Darkness is falling and the sun disappears over the horizon. The next party is tonight.

I get the official email from Cassandra. This time however, the message is not so impersonal as it was before; she writes more like a friend asking me whether I'm free to come over.

This isn't the masquerade that's on Saturday; this is just an informal get-together, a few friends having drinks at the bar. No pressure as always, she points out.

I stare at the email on my phone and wonder if I should go. When I put on my best pair of skinny black jeans, a comfortable, loose-fitting top, and a tight leather jacket that's way too thin for this cold weather, I look at myself in the standing mirror in my room and I like what I see.

I look cool, hip, just going out on the town. I hate to admit it, but Redemption was fun. I like meeting strangers who I can have this flirtation with once and then move on with my life.

It's freeing not to know their real names or what they do for a living and it's freeing to not be myself tonight. Tonight I'm not going to be Jacqueline, tonight I'm going to be Kylie. It's not my favorite name, but it's catchy and easy to remember and that's good enough.

When I arrive at the club, I head straight to the bar and look around, couples are everywhere. One guy who had his arm around a girl with long auburn hair pulls away and comes to talk to me.

He sits on the bar stool nursing his Old Fashioned. Instead of a martini, I order the same.

"Wow, I didn't know girls liked these kind of drinks.”

I hate statements like that. It’s a compliment peddling in stereotypes. It’s like saying, I’m not like other girls, I’m a cool girl.

"Maybe not, but I do.” I smile.

He introduces himself as Brad and I wonder if that’s his real name. We shake hands and he looks at me like I'm something to consume. That's the point, I guess, but it's a little bit too sleazy. When his girlfriend or wife turns around and waves at us, he nods for her to come over and introduces her as Christine.

Christine seems shy and a little bit uncomfortable and he mentions that it's their first time here.

"You're going to have a good time," I say and move just a little bit away from them. I've never kissed a girl and I'm not really interested in starting with Christine.

After a few minutes, I excuse myself to head to the bathroom but instead I scan the room.

Dante, where are you?