yra snorted and quickly covered her mouth, "What?"
    I smiled and pointed to her back, "That thing. It looks like it's filled with cement. Doesn't that hurt your back to carry around?"
    "They're books," she said and took another liberal swig from the vodka and orange juice.
    I nodded slowly, "Ah, after this," I slowly waved my hands around indicating the loud, thumping rave, " you're going to the library to study. That makes sense."
    She smiled again, but her eyes were studying me. At least that's what it felt like through the buzz I had going on. Her eyes were dark. They actually looked black in this light, I thought.
    Myra put the cup to her mouth and leaning her head back, draining it.
    I watched her and started to take another drink myself, but I waited. If she wasn't about to disappear under the cover of friends, I didn't want to be getting any more drunk.
    She put the plastic cup, now empty, on the bar and let out a sigh.
    "Thanks Jack," she said and smiled at me.
    "Not a problem, Myra," I said and we locked eyes again.
    She broke it a moment later and scanned the rave.
    Here it comes, I thought. Her friends will be out there some place and she'll be gone.
    I watched her and tried to burn her face into my brain. But Myra turned back to face me. "You want to get out of here?"
    As this was not the play I imagined coming, I said, "I understand, I'll be here if you change..."
    Which expained the quizzical look that crossed over her face.
    "What?" I asked, my brain catching up with the words she had spoken.
    "I said, do you want to get out of here? You know, go someplace less loud?"
    "Yes," I said quickly --probably too quickly.
    She smiled, "Good."
    With that she slid off the stool and stood up. She was shorter than I first thought, a good few inches. Her legs came out under a dark skirt and they looked strong and that made her more appealing - there was something very sexy about it.
    She seemed to warble for a second and then readjusted the pack on her back, shifting the weight by pulling the straps and moving her hip. Then she started across the back of the dance area.
    For a second, I sat there, watching her form as she headed for the dance floor.
    A switch went on in my head, Hello? You're supposed to be following that.
    I got up and started after her.
    There were at least sixty or maybe a hundred people out on the dance floor, which was really just the open space of the warehouse. Colored lights were swinging around from above, creating mixtures of blue, purple, green and red swaths across the darkened area. People jumping and moving, I could feel the air get warmer as I got closer. The vibrations of the techno got loud enough for my bones to feel it.
    Myra zigzagged through a couple of punks with mohawks that were spiked about two feet above their heads, they turned to see her go and their heads looked like giant fan blades, a flash of light catching some glitter or something in their hair made them sparkle. She moved between a smaller group of girls that were dancing with their eyes closed, their hands swishing above their heads like they were trying to swim upwards in slow motion. As she did, she disappeared from view, swallowed up by people and darkness.
    I moved a little quicker to catch up, but as I moved beyond the swimmers, she was gone. I turned to look around, but there were only the throngs of smokers in the back watching the crowds like lifeguards at the beach. Or maybe it was more like pervs watching a schoolyard.
    I swung back around to where Myra could have went and there was a small exit door there.
    Nothing to loose at this point, I thought.
    I opened the steel door to the stairwell. It screeched a twisted metal-on-bent-metal sound, but I only know that because I was standing right next to it. There was no way it could have been heard less than five feet away over the music.
    It was darker in the stairwell than the dance floor (if that were possible) so I took a step forward and a hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside. Myra's face blurred by me and her lips suddenly pressed against mine in an open mouth kiss. Her hand came up to my neck and gently pulled me closer to her and the kiss became more forceful. Her tongue felt its way across mine and I tasted strong vodka with hints of orange juice.
    The door slipped out of my hand and screeched close, this time somewhat louder as it reverberated though the stairwell. The loud, overpowering music's volume abruptly dropped and everything had a muted quality to it as my ears felt that they were filled mud.
    Myra released me, her hand on my neck moved to my cheek but her face didn't move away. Her head tilted and she let out a breath, which was heavy with alcohol.
    "Sorry," she said breathing somewhat heavy, "I guess I shouldn't drink."
    "It's okay," I said. "That was nice."
    She looked up at me with her dark eyes, "It's been a long time."
    "Are you talking about the drink or the kiss?" I said still breathing in her scent.
    She smiled, her fingers gently caressing my jaw, and said, "Let's get out of here."
    "Okay," I started to say, but her hands came up to my face and pulled me to her and she kissed me hard again. Her breathing came more rapid and she pushed me away as if I had been the one forcing myself upon her.
    "Sorry," she apologized again, breathy.
    "Ah..., okay," I let out dumbly and added, "More than okay."
    "Come on," she said and was holding my hand lightly as she started off for the stairs down.
    I followed down the flight to a second landing and onward to the floor. There, at the bottom another large, metal door that also screeched as it opened into the night air.
    She held the door open as I passed through and the air outside was noticeably much cooler than the sweatbox of the rave. Even thought it was probably about 70-degrees, it felt almost cold. I took a deep breath of the fresher air and the coolness was sobering.
    I took about a dozen steps to the street before I saw the officer.
    A quick look up and there were about eight of them in riot gear. A few narcs were also standing nearby in their full-up night-gear. Flashlights and weapons came up to bear upon me as they caught sight of me.
    Aw shit, I thought, my heart sinking in my chest. Here come the Nazis.