As this was only our second time speaking, it was again a getting-to-know-you type of conversation, albeit an extended one. In our first few moves we had learnt the basics about each other, now it was time to observe the intricacies. The game restarted as we drove from the Cue Club in her Mercedes Benz. “How old are you?” I asked as Katya fastened her seatbelt and started the machine.

“18, why?” she answered and asked back.

She started the vehicle and we were off.

“Well, pardon me being so blunt,” I started, “but how the hell did you get this car?” I was smiling and laughing, shocked that she could afford the thing. I wasn’t a car enthusiast, in fact I hated cars. The idea of driving always made me nervous – I didn’t trust myself behind the wheel and as a result only drove places when I really needed to. Like that day, I’d driven to the Cue Club because I was in a hurry, not wanting to miss any of Katya’s gig.

I hated cars, but this wasn’t just a car. This was a creation. A masterpiece. Katya kept her eyes on the road, her face straight. The smile I was expecting as she answered my question never came. She replied coldly.

“It’s from my Dad.”

“Oh.” Internally, I ordered workers to attack me mercilessly for starting this topic of conversation. The night was cold. Just then, the car was colder.

“He gave it to me for my birthday. That was it. No calls, no visits, no anything. Just a car and a card saying “From Dad”. I haven’t even met the guy and he sends me this gift like it’s supposed to fix everything. Like one gesture could repair all the damage.

She was beginning a tirade, so I interrupted – trying to change the subject without sounding too insensitive. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to hear about her father, or be someone for her to talk to and confide in – I did. It was just that I wanted to get to know her before getting to know all her problems.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” I asked, pulling a packet of Winfield Blues out of my pocket. Katya was about to start another sentence when she heard.

“I Jus… - what? Oh yeah, sure.”

I thanked her as I took out a cigarette. I don’t know why I smoke. But I guess no one does. It’s just something that people do.

“Would you like one too?” I asked, hoping she was a smoker – thus she’d oblige and have a cigarette, effectively disallowing her to speak long enough for me to start a new topic of conversation.

Ah, premeditation.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke cigarettes.”

Fuck. I had only a small window of opportunity before she started again, so I took it.

“Yeah, I used to hate cigarettes.” I said.

“Why did you change your mind?” came her reply.

“I don’t know. I used to only smoke when I was drinking because it gave me head-spins. After a while though it just became a regular thing and I took it up.”

She didn’t respond, I didn’t mind. At least I’d ceased the tirade. I eyed the interior of the car upfront. There was a CD player and a tape player. I asked what she had to listen to.

“Um…” she thought as she drove, “In here, not much, just a couple of Neil Young albums I was listening to earlier.”

“Do you mind if I put one on?” I asked as I rolled down my window and sparked my cigarette.

“Go for it. They’re in the glove box.”

So I fished through the glove box and found two albums. I put on Neil Young “Unplugged” first. Then, with his soothing voice singing under us, we both became relaxed and Katya, as she drive out of the city, heading to I don’t know where, left behind the worries of her father and became interested in the ”date” again.

“Beautiful night isn’t it?” her soft words came as she gazed at the full moon ahead of us. “I love full moons.”

I took a long look at it. I’d long been appreciative of the night sky and this one truly was worth appreciating. I was silent for quite a time, watching it, smoking and taking in Neil Young’s words. I leant back and stretched out as far as I could, relaxing. Katya smiled pleasantly.

“Comfortable there?” she teased.

“Yeah, it’s great.” I answered, then completely changed topic. “God, Neil Young is amazing!”

“I agree.”

“His voice and his lyrics – everything he does, it’s just…” I had no word in my vocabulary to accurately articulate my feelings, so I just let out a semi-orgasmic groan. This made Katya chuckle, which in turn made me do so too.

We talked about music for ages after that. We both liked the same stuff, only she was more into the heavy music and I was into soft. I found that funny since she played such soulful songs and I played such silly heavy tunes.

We drove on and on for what were probably hours but seemed like minutes. We talked about music, television, books, writing, and politics. All of which we had similar opinions on, but different enough for us not to be the same, or the conversation to become boring. And as we spoke, I found myself learning more and more about Katya, yet my infatuation only grew. My thirst for knowledge about her could not be satiated. So we spoke forever, driving on, until finally we stopped.

We’d reached our destination and I had no idea where we were. All I could see was a lake ahead of us. We were at the top of a steep hill looking down on it.

“Hop out.” She said as she opened her door and exited the car. I obliged. As I stood at the side of the car, she went into the back and went through her bag. She came out a few seconds later with a joint in hand, and lay down on the hood of the car, leaning against her windscreen.

“Hop on.” She again ordered me. Again I obliged, slowly putting myself on the hood beside her, taking care not to put too much pressure on the car.

I thought you didn’t smoke?” I said as she lit the joint.

“I don’t smoke cigarettes.” She answered. “This is my ritual” she said before puffing on the doobie. “I don’t always come here specifically, I usually just follow the moon – it takes me to cool places. I just like to drive and relax. It’s great being out alone at night and thinking.”

“You’re not alone tonight.” I spoke, looking into her eyes. She smiled, her lips pink and amazing. Her left hand passed me the joint, her right took mine. And we laid, hand in hand, smoking a joint and talking.

“When was the last time you had a girlfriend?” she asked.

“Last year.” I informed her. “Haven’t really been looking since then.”

Are you looking now?” our eyes were lost in each other, watching through infinity and beyond.

“Not anymore.” I answered. Inside, my workers were retching at the corniness of my comment. Back in the world, Katya grinned shyly and bowed her head.

When people like each other, they can say the corniest, sappiest most pathetic sounding things possible, and they will seem romantic.

“What about you?” I asked. “Any boyfriends?”

“No boyfriends as such. I’ve been with guys before. A couple of years ago I went through a real self destructive streak where I was with a different guy every weekend.”

“And now?” I asked, still processing the last comment.

“Now I only speak to guys that I like.” She responded, as he grip on my hand tightened. I considered making a joke, but decided to accept the compliment quietly. I laid back and so did she. We enjoyed the silence of the night, and though we should have been cold, the presence of each other covered us like a warm blanket. Directly above us was the moon. Then and there, I knew where we’d been driving all along. Just following the moon. Silently we laid, for minutes.

The silence was broken by Katya.

“I’m going to do something.”

“Yeah?” I asked, wanting her to elaborate.

“I hope you don’t think I’m too weird for this.” She said as she sat up and got off the hood of her car. She opened the front door and grabbed her tapes and some other things. She handed them to me. Then she went into the back and retrieved her handbag. She put the strap over her shoulder and slammed the door. Finally, Katya popped the boot. She grabbed her guitar case and carried it over to me. She set the case and her bag down on the dewy grass. I handed her back the tapes and stuff which she sat on top of the case.

Now her car was empty.

She went to the driver’s side and opened the door. I had to no idea what she was doing. Even while it was happening, I didn’t believe it. She started the car and then pulled the handbrake. Slowly she stepped away from it and over to me. She took my left arm and put it around her. Her head rested on my shoulder, we watched as her new Mercedes Benz rolled down the slope, gaining speed all the time.

We watched as it careened downhill.

We watched as it hit the water.

We watched as it sank slowly, falling to the bottom of the lake leaving Katya and I alone, watching the now calm water. The moon glowing off it.

Standing in the night, I had my arm around Katya and hers now around me. Together, we bathed in the moonlight in total silence, and it was beautiful.