She began to cry. "There's something wrong with me. I make people hurt me." She sobbed hard. "I thought it was the demon in me, but there isn't one. It's just me." "You're evil," said a voice behind us. "I'll show you evil," I hissed. I stormed over and kicked him in the ribs. My chip flared again as Tara pulled me away. "Stop it, stop it," she cried. "Just get out." "I'm not leaving you with him," I yelled. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" "Leave!" she yelled. "Please just go." "I'm not leaving you!" She cracked her hand across my face. "Get out!" I stared at her in disbelief. She stared in my eyes and picked up the phone. "Police?" I turned and left. I was stunned, numb. It was a bad dream, an illusion, a distortion of reality. It wasn't real. My face stung from where she'd hit me. Tara. Hit me. **** I did what I always do when my heart gets broken. I drank. I drank at Willy's Bar. I had shot after shot until I felt numb, until I felt like my tongue had been wrapped in cotton and my heart frozen in my chest. "I suck with women," I explained to Willy. "I think that I must be cursed." "Really?" he replied. "What kind of curse?" "If I love them, they'll smack me in the face." "That's pretty specific," he replied. "I loved Cecily," I slurred. "And she smacked me in the face. Metaphorically speaking, you know." I sank a shot from the long row that lined the bar in front of me. "And Drusilla, she punched me in the face. Of course, she was pissed off at me at the time for trying to kill her lover. And the Slayer punched me in the face all the time. It was kind of a hobby for her." I lit a cigarette awkwardly and inhaled. "Some girls ice skate. Some girls collect stamps. Buffy liked to hit me in the face." I took another drag off my cigarette. "This thing tastes funny." "You lit the filter," explained Willy. I stubbed it out and lit another. A pale hand with long manicured fingers slid across my chest. I grabbed it and threw it off. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying." "How do you know what I'm selling?" I turned to look at a tall, blonde vampire. She was sexy as hell. Long gorgeous legs, full breasts, a red, dewy mouth. "I may be pathetic," I said, "But I've never been pathetic enough to fuck a whore." She slapped me, and her long nails clawed a track across my cheek. "So much for my theory," I said to Willy. "I didn't even love that one." The next thing I remember, Clem and Lia were pulling me inside their apartment. They dragged me over onto the futon and tossed a blanket over me. "If you need to throw up," said Lia, "there's a bucket by your head." The lights turned off and I rested comfortably in the darkness. The whirling of my head was soothing, reassuring even. "I wonder what he did to make her break up with him," I heard Clem say. "I just hope she forgives him," said Lia. The world got very cold, and black and lonely. I thought about Tara, about her smell, the feel of her in my arms. I missed the way that she held me when we fell asleep. I even missed the cat. As I passed out, I wondered why my face was wet. **** "Time to get up," said a sweet female voice. "Tara?" I asked. I tried to sit up, but my head swam. "It's Lia." She handed me a packet of blood. "Drink up."

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