There’s nothing more involving than a mystery. The mystery that faced Katya and I was how to get home. We were in the middle of somewhere between the city and the coast, without a car and no phone in sight. Still we stood, arms around each other. Watching the calm sea into which Katya’s Mercedes Benz had just careened, the first thought that entered my mind was not of worry. I was not concerned with how we’d get home or what we’d do next. I was completely amazed as to what had just happened. What Katya had just done.

Our silent moment in the moonlight was broken by her soft voice, somewhat muffled as she turned to me and pressed her face against my shoulder, still holding.

“So, do you think I’m weird?” she asked.

Still watching the stagnant see, I smiled. Tightening my grasp on her, I rested my chin on her head momentarily before immersing my face in her raven black hair.

“No.” I said. “I think you’re beautiful.”

In our embrace, gently she pulled her head backward. Her eyes met mine and we stared intensely for a moment before suddenly our lips were together and slowly with a passion I’d never felt before, our tongues touched. In that moment there was nothing but me, Katya and the full moon shining. There were no worries, no possessions. No world. Just us, embracing for the first time. Gently, we went to the ground – rested on my back on the dewy grass she lay on top of me, still connected at the lips. Connected for hours before the night of day encroached. We’d fallen asleep together, arms around.

“How did you sleep?” she asked me, knelt at my side as I slowly sat up.

“Um… I dunno. My back’s real wet.” I noted, for whatever reason. I reached out to Katya to help me up. He took my hand and obliged. Once on my feet I rubbed myself down, trying to get some of the dew off me.

“I don’t know how we’re going to get home.” Said Katya before letting out a brief chuckle and smiling. She was enjoying this.

So was I.

I looked all around us, appraising the situation. No phone, no car. We had two options – walk all the way back home, or hitch a ride. As far as luggage went we had the guitar and Katya’s handbag. It would take most of the day, I thought, but walking home could be quite fun.

“How ‘bout we start walking and if a car comes past wanting to pick us up, we’ll hitch?”

Katya’s smile widened. She must have been thinking the exact same thing.

So, we headed off. It was a sunny day so we had no weather worries and I being the gentleman I was, carried the guitar whilst Katya carried her handbag (full of the Neil Young tapes and other trinkets she’d emptied out of the car before setting it to its watery doom.

We walked for quite some time with no cars passing by us. I was the closer of us to the road. We were talking about nothing-in-particulars when Katya’s tone turned serious.

“I guess you’re wondering why I let the car go last night?”

I was silent for a moment, searching for the best way to answer – eventually I just decided to tell the truth.

“Actually, I haven’t given it a second thought.”

“Oh.” Was her reply, followed by silence. Instantly I wished I’d lied.

“Why did you do it?”

I then inquired interestedly. It did no good, her feelings were hurt.

“It doesn’t really matter.” She replied coldly.

The workers inside me started belting my organs, screaming “YOU INSENSITIVE PRICK!” It hit me so fast. She cared what I thought. For the first time ever, someone cared what I thought about them and I’d blown it by seeming like I didn’t care about her. Again, it was truth time. No restrictions – maximum corniness.

“No, I really want to know. It wasn’t because I didn’t care that I hadn’t given it a second thought.” My words sounded fumbled and I knew it. Stupid vocabulary. Nevertheless, Katya looked at me oddly, like I was reading her mind. I continued: “The reason I hadn’t thought about it was because I’ve been totally consumed by you since then.”

Still she looked at me peculiarly. A good kind of peculiar. Sensing I was onto a good thing, I let the truth keep flowing.

“What you did astounded me. It was amazing. And since you did it all I’ve been able to think about it how incredible you are.”

She couldn’t hold it any longer. The greatest grin I’d ever seen forced its way out as she shyly looked down. She was blushing. With my free hand, I took hers. Her tone as she spoke now was less serious, but her words were as serious and important as I’d ever heard.

“I lied about never knowing my Dad. He lived with me and my mother until I was ten. What he did was worse than leaving before I was born.”

She paused for a time, so I pushed. I could tell this was something she wanted to get off her chest.

“What did he do?” I asked.

“He cheated on my mother.”

“Oh.” I had no idea what to say.

“With her sister.” She continued. “Him and my fucking aunty!” Now she was emotional, almost tearing up and furious. “They backstabbed my mother and left her totally alone. She was a mess and I practically had to stat looking after myself! She was too depressed to do anything.”

I still had no clue what to say. All I could do was release her hand and then put my arm around her, clutching tight. Katya rested her head on my shoulders as we continued walking, cars now going past intermittently – but not stopping for us.

“But that’s not the worst of it.” She resumed. “When I was fifteen, they got back together.”

I was shocked and couldn’t control it. I looked at her, bewildered.

“Your mum took him back?! Why?”

“My mum loves him. Without him she was incapable of handling anything. Now that he’s back, she’s happy.”

My shock grew.

“You mean they’re still together?”

Her eyes firmly directed at the ground closed and I felt her whole body depress. She nodded and sniffed, fighting back tears. I set down her guitar and stopped. Then, turning to her, I held her tighter than I’d ever held anyone before. In my arms she fell apart, crying streams of tears, her fragile shell broken. Holding, I now understood her so much more and knowing the pain that she’d endured, I couldn’t hold back the tears of my own that began to seep out.

Together, fused by sadness, we stood for ages. Katya emptying herself and I trying to comfort her. Behind us came a horn. We didn’t hear it in our state. Eventually what we did hear was a man’s voice.

“Hey, you two!” He was calling loudly, trying to get our attention. With an arm still around Katya, I turned to face him.

“Yeah?” I asked. The man, in his forties with graying hair and a genuine face seemed taken aback by what he saw – two teenagers in tears. Regardless, he offered:

“Do you two need a lift in to the city?”

I turned back to Katya to gauge her reaction. Wiping tears from her face, she nodded. I turned back to the man and accepted.

“All righty. Just load your stuff in the back of the Ute and we’ll get goin’.”

I smiled politely and then thanked him. I placed Katya’s guitar in the back whilst she kept her handbag with her. Then we got into the front of the car and squeezed in. It was a small three-seater. A tight squeeze. However, the guy was good enough not to complain and soon enough we were headed back to the city.