When I woke up the next morning, with bright sunlight already streaming into the room, I found myself alone in the bed and with Anne nowhere in sight, which left me slightly disappointed. I had expected to be woken by her, or the other way around, and after last nights intimate confession, revel in the new closeness. I crawled out of the bed and made my way to the coffee machine, my mood brightening when I saw the note on the kitchen table.
Though the small flutter of happiness was instantly crushed when I read what she had written. "Will be out all day, don't wait up for me in the evening." It wasn't even signed.
I slumped down on a chair and re-read the sentence, asking myself what was going on. Was I reading to much into the note? Perhaps she had been in a hurry? But the rational part of my mind told me that I was making up unreasonable excuses. Anne, with all her outward flightiness, wasn't one to be this insensitive by accident. But I couldn't, for the live of me, figure out what could be going on in her head to push me away. Was she uncomfortable that she had revealed her weakness? Was she still hung up on the idea she might hurt me?
She was hurting me now, though, and I wished she would come into the room and simply take me in her arms more than anything else. A tear trickled down my cheek, which I angrily wiped away. But I wouldn't give up hope. So I made myself a coffee and sat there, waiting for the door to open and an apologetic Anne to come back.
After almost two hours and two more coffees, I had to declare defeat. It was already lunch time, my stomach started to growl, and there was still no sign of my girlfriend. But I couldn't sit around and mope the whole day, so I traipsed into the shower. The water splashing down on me washed away some of the hopelessness I was feeling, and covered the tears I couldn't hold back.
Afterwards, I put on a summer dress and wrote a note for the unlikely case that she would be home, telling her that I was just running down to the pizza takeaway and would be back in a few minutes. Of course, it still lay untouched when I arrived back, and once the worst of my hunger was satisfied, the pizza tasted like cardboard. I threw away half of it and busied myself with tidying up.
I could only occupy myself with that for a few hours though, and in my desperation not to think, I switched on the telly and coiled up on the couch with a big box of candies, watching mindlessly and crying fresh tears from time to time. I'd stay up until Anne got home, I decided, and make her talk to me. Whatever was going on with her, I just knew we could put it aside if we really talked to each other. We loved each other; we had both said so before we had fallen asleep, and we had both meant it.
I must have drifted off into sleep though. When I was startled awake, it was already daylight again, and the clanging and banging of a parade was coming from the tv. I shot a hopeful glance towards Anne's bed, and my stomach dropped. It was untouched. But then I noticed that her purse, which had been on her nightstand, wasn't there.
"Anne?" I asked into the room, hoping to hear her reply from the bathroom, but I was only met with silence. Then a gut-wrenching thought ran through my head, and I got up and took some hesitant steps toward our wardrobe. Opening the door on Anne's side, my worst fears were confirmed. Her overnight bag was missing, as was a part of her clothes.
Spinning around, I spotted another note on the kitchen table. Walking over and picking it up took an enormous effort. "Brittany," it started, and my stomach dropped further after I read the formal address, "I know this is hard to understand, but I am not sure that we are good for each other. I need some time alone to think about everything. Anne."
No "love", no "Bunnie", not even "your friend" - the floor seemed to be pulled away under my feet.
"Anne," I wailed into the room, and my tears turned the world around me blurry. "Why?"
****
I had spent the day moping again, trying and failing to understand my best friend and lover. I didn't want to use the word "former lover" yet, even though I knew enough about the whole "I need some space" thing not to have big illusions in that regard.
But the darker it became outside, the more restless I got. Today was Friday, and if I stayed inside again, I'd suffocate in loneliness. But I didn't want to go to one of the usual hangouts and be surrounded by hyper coeds celebrating their exams. In a moment of defiance, I decided that I would visit the Dark Sapphire on my own. Maybe Anne would be there too, a small voice in my head dared to hope, but I quickly quenched it. I'd simply try to have fun there, and if that fun got sexual with whomever I met, that would be good too.
I had only a rough idea about where it was though, not having paid much attention on our drive there, and even less on the ride back home. My first idea was to look it up in the phone book, but I couldn't find it there. So I booted up my computer and searched the internet. It took me some time until I discovered the correct link in the flood of results, but I finally got to the website and scribbled down the address.
Then came the next problem. What to wear? I wanted something titillating that immediately drew attention to me, in case I did run across Anne. I rummaged through the wardrobe, holding up dresses and shirts and discarding them just as quickly. Then I thought back to my first visit to the club and all the fancy outfits people had worn, and I got a wicked idea. So I pulled over one of the chairs so I could reach up to the highest board where my 'mementos' were stored. There it was, and with a pack of clothes in my hand I jumped down from the chair, my mood brightening.
I had to iron out a few wrinkles, and I was a bit fearful that I wouldn't fit into the outfit anymore, but to my joy, I managed to wiggle into the by now rather tight and short skirt. The blouse, which had been tight when I had last worn it, now clung to my body like a second skin. The blazer what a bit more loose cut, so it still fit. I also found a pair of knee-length white cotton socks and black ballerina shoes.
I thought about also putting on the tie, but that would probably be a bit too formal. When I looked in the mirror, it felt as if I was transported back in time. My old school uniform made me look little more than sixteen. But something was missing. After a little thinking and posing, I realized what it was, and with a giggle, I fetched the nail scissors from the bathroom and started to cut away the buttons from the top down, until it left a good bit of cleavage exposed. Still, that wasn't enough. So I slipped it off again and, this time using the bigger scissors from the kitchen drawer, cut away a good part of the bottom of the blouse.
When I tried it on again, the image looking back at me was completely different. In the place of the innocent little school girl stood a naughty little seductress, a good part of stomach exposed to show off her belly button, and only two buttons left to protect her breasts from being bared to the world. Two hairclips which sported tiny black bows held back my hair, and with some mascara, a lot of dark, glittery eyeshade and a pale pink lipstick, I had the slutty look I was aiming for.
Twirling in front of the mirror, I gave a small satisfied whoop, then spun over to my bed, picked up my phone and called a taxi.
****
The driver sent me a few strange looks after I gave him the full address, but I got to the club in relative silence. The forty bucks really hurt my finances, but I finally told myself that, with exams over, I could get a side job to earn it back if I wanted to.
So I found myself pulling the entrance open with a slightly trembling hand.
"Hey, Bunnie it is, isn't it? Good to see you again so soon!" Lucy's voice greeted me before my eyes had adapted to the brighter light inside.
"Hi Lucy, how are you?" I greeted back, trying to sound confident.
"Good, good," she piped, "you just here to dance or for more?"
"For... more." I couldn't keep the blush from spreading over my cheeks.
"That's brilliant, cash or credit card?"
