Chapter 2: More Than Just Desire

Mark and Katrina get to know each other better, following a somewhat rocky beginning.

"That's a really beautiful name," I reply. "Do your friends call you Kat?"

"Nice of you to say, but I honestly don't have many friends," Katrina replies.

"Really? How come?" I ask, my mouth on full auto-pilot at this point.

"I just ain't got time for it. I'm pretty much busy 24/7," Katrina says. "See, as of three years ago, my ma's been diagnosed with Alzheimers and can't work, and I'm the only one who can provide for her. My sister stayed in New York to pursue a career on Broadway, and my father's currently stationed overseas."

She briefly pauses and glances out the window to check her blind-spot, before turning back around and continuing her ramble.

"This job does pay handsomely, don't get me wrong, but seventy-five percent of my earnings are mailed to Sausalito to help my mother out, and the rest is spent on myself, but only for the essentials: fast food, bottled water, hygiene, and maintenance for this cab. Occasionally, I'll have enough left over to buy one or two nice things, hence why I don't look like your average hobo, but that's where it ends," Katrina continues.

I almost butt in and comment on how Kat seemingly has no problem splurging on cigarettes, but I decide against it to avoid hurting her feelings, or worst of all turning her off.

"And because of all that, I can't even afford a house. Whenever my shift ends, I just pull into the parking lot where all the cabs are required to be at night, and since there are no guards on duty, I pretty much just live in here," she finishes.

By this time in our casual discussion, my feelings towards Katrina have transformed from lustful desire to genuine attraction. I think it's safe to say that she's one of those women whose appearance draws in one's inner-hopeless-romantic, while her personality keeps them coming back for more. The fact that she has endured and sacrificed so much over all this time only serves to show how dedicated she is to her family, and selflessness has always been a personality trait that I deeply admire.

The words we both say during the rest of the ride only prove to me that Katrina isn't nearly as cold or stoic as she appears at first glance. By the time it's my turn to talk about my background, her personality has almost completely overhauled itself, going from deadpanning and easily-angered to cheerful and witty, similar to Mr. Miyagi while he's under the influence.

As I bring up the Thanksgiving analogy mentioned earlier, I manage to sneak another look at her face and to my amazement, a very warm, beautiful, and legitimate smile has formed, spreading her red-wine-colored lips outwards like a pat of butter in a frying pan, and forming a small dimple. I also take the time to visually explore the rest of her face. The skin that covers it looks very smooth and unspoiled, save for a beauty-mark just above the right corner of her mouth. I can see a miniscule diamond pierced into the right side of her nose, and though her silky, jet-black hair is almost completely obscuring her ears, I can still see golden hoop-earrings peeking through it. Her eyes by far are the most noticeable, however, with irises that almost perfectly match the inside of an avocado - a shade of green that I've never seen in one's eyes before.

Even though I receive a small, mental warning not to, I scan my eyes down her body again, once more taking note of her driving-style and also noticing a rhomboid cutout on the front of her top, exposing the top half of her chest, which has a beauty mark of its own. With my own chest swelling affectionately, I face forward again and sit back, letting everything I now know about Katrina soak in. I also take the time to admire the views on the other side of the window. Though I've been to several big cities in my time, the sight of so many tall, mostly-glass buildings in a wide array of odd shapes still feels surreal to me.

It isn't long before Katrina lets out a laugh, which consequently pulls me back into the realm of reality. I'm completely caught off guard at first, until I realize that she's laughing at my analogy from less than a minute ago. It's so weird how time freezes whenever you're deep in thought. During this time, I also take notice of her high-pitched, effeminate laugh, which makes me cringe slightly as first, though it quickly becomes yet another attractive aspect of her. She's one of those people whose laugh sounds way different from her regular speaking voice.

The sight of her laughing allows me to get a look at her very straight and shiny teeth which are surprisingly white given her current lifestyle. Each additional "ha" she lets out also sends a whiff of her breath in my direction, and even that smells nice; it's a mixture of Listerine mouthwash and Brooklyn-style pizza, which may sound gross, but seeing how it's one of my most favorite foods, it only arouses me further.

After we both calm down from the admittedly bland joke, I only now begin to pay attention to the radio again. This time, "Your Smiling Face" by James Taylor is playing, and it only serves to intensify both the mood and my euphoria.

"...Oh, and about you not having a lot of friends?" I ask, prompting Katrina to acknowledge me with a brief glance. "Well, you've got one now."

Though she doesn't verbally thank me, I can tell exactly what Katrina is thinking, because her face once again contorts into a massive smile. Neither of us say much else for the remainder of the drive to the San Francisco Chronicle headquarters, though if my repeated glances at Katrina are anything to go by, her stunning smile from earlier is still gorilla-glued onto her face, almost as if she's one of The Joker's unfortunate victims.