I took off my shirt when he undid his pants. I dared him to do it and he did. When I saw he’d taken my challenge I raced to strip before him. I ran into the water with the socks still on my feet.

Underneath, everything was warm. I grabbed his hand and he held me under. Thick, brothy water bloomed inside my nose. Widened my throat. I could hear the sounds of fish tails, legs kicking – movement all around. But I couldn’t open my eyes to see.

We slumped to shore, soaking. He peeled off my socks as we sat down on the filthy beach, combed with sticks and mud. He talked about his mother and I watched an ant crawl through the hair on his big toe. The moon was cold as it whispered. His mouth was soft on the bumps on my neck. In the mirror, he left a mark.

I showered in his apartment. Tried to ignore the hung cloths and tiny soaps. I hummed, watched the afternoon become clouds at my feet. His shower was so much like my own. The curtain was closed but I left the door open, wondered what he might do.

I dried and hung his towel on the wall. Used his toilet. The bathroom fan coughed and wheezed as I leaned against the sink, looked into the opaque mirror. When I walked out of the bathroom I let him watch me. He was still fully clothed, except his shoes. I walked to him, knelt, helped him with the rest.

The night is blank. I keep looking for stars and big trucks pulling off the highway. Everything in me is clawing up my throat. I think about him cleaning the sheets. Tearing them off, balling them up and burying them deep inside the hamper. He is stretching out the clean ones, messing up the pillows so they don’t look too rehearsed. I can see him jumping in the shower, scrubbing hard to hide his tracks, to give his bathroom towel a reason for being wet. I feel the warm spot on my neck where he stamped me. I could cover it with make-up. Not that I have a reason. No one in the world knows that I am here. Not even the truck driver in the parking spot next to me spitting into his radio. Belching. Telling dirty jokes. It is all distorted muff. I am hiding, melting down below the window. A soundless puddle, leaking beneath the seat.