Dating : A Smile From Kiera McEm

She liked slow music and synthetic chords. I watched her dance alone on the dance floor. She smiled at me sweetly, and I could tell she was looking to play a simple game. Not just meaningless shit beneath the sheets. I stayed back against the wall and didn’t approach, but we just kept our eyes locked, smiling, as she danced and moved her body. My heart raced at the thrill of making out in the dark corner of my mind. But when I looked away, she slipped away, lost in the crowd.

It’s warm nights like these when you get your game on. So many walking the city streets, dancing through house beats, and intoxicated lounges filled with cigarettes and vodka caresses. In every one, always a dance floor full of strangers. And after the dim lights come on, the bodies drain out into the street and make their way home, alone, or not. I spotted her walking away and said goodbye to my friends to catch up. She was walking on the opposite side of the street. So I yelled out to see if she would recognize me from the club. She stopped, looking up and smiled. Then a laugh, and with a wave of her hand, an invitation.

She walked me to her flat, an old elevator rises to her room. It was a small loft, with simple furnishings and filled with lawyer books. Books were stacked on the counter, on the table, a few on the bed, opened to sticky notes, and multi-colored highlighter. Her handwriting was impeccable. She laid down the rules right away, no touching, a friendly chat, a beer. I was thrilled, it was the randomness and mystery and impulsiveness that turned me on. Anyways, I was too drunk to do much more. She was planning to stay up studying, but we could hang out for a little while.

Her name was Kiera, McMillan. She was Irish, slender, witty, and shrewd. She opened a beer and chucked me a second one. “Self-service here”, as she slid the opener across the table. She talked about her dad and her brothers. She was working hard, trying to get through law school. Wanted to make them proud. I got the feeling she lost one of them, but I didn’t ask. I read through her books trying to decipher some of the terms as she quizzed me on my life as a NASA engineer. I described the satellite that we were sending to Saturn. It was going to study the rings. Something so iconic that we knew so little about. “We know so little about so many things”, I suggested. “Like even the people right in front of us.”, she said. And we laughed. She rolled her eyes but then she looked back at me with that smile.

After an hour, I thanked her for the beer. I said goodbye and she walked me out. Down the elevator and to the front door of her building. Stepping out with me into the dark cool night air, she let the door close behind her. Her warm arms wrapped around me and she pressed her lips hard against mine. My hand reached up and embraced her face, slipping to the back of her neck and I accepted her fully. Her leg wrapped around my waist, my other hand steadied her rising hip as she pressed harder against me. We gave our bodies a moment to say goodbye. And when the silence took over our heavy cold breadth, she looked up at me and smiled. That same smile she gave me on the dance floor right before she slipped away. And just as quickly, she turned, unlocked the building door, and escaped up the rising elevator.

There may have been a thousand nights like that. Now, abandoned in youth, neglected with aging. And each with its own story. Each with a ritual game. Some simple, some full of madness. But none as sweet as the smile from Kiera McEm.