Sun & Moon

“Glad we could work this out,” Catalina clipped, the phone up to her ear. She typed rapidly on her computer, shooting an email to the entire PR team with the fix in the ticket prices for the Chicago versus San Jose game. “If you have any more questions or concerns, call me please. Alright, thank you.”

Catalina hung up the phone. She glanced at her watch, sighing heavily. It was past eight at night and she was exhausted. Catalina got to the office at seven in the morning and had been nonstop all day long with a ticket crises, a messed up media release and helping deal with a player being put on the injured reserve list. It was a crazy day but she enjoyed it, needing the quick movement of events.

Signing off on her things and closing all of her files, Catalina got herself ready to go home. As she closed the office and locked the door, she passed by other empty and not empty offices. She waved to her coworkers as she got onto the elevator, shooting Erin a text to see if her roommate wanted to get drinks. Thankfully, Erin did.

Catalina didn’t have to run home to change. She was in a tight, wrapped crème blouse, a leather jacket over her shoulders to fight off the cold, and a pencil skirt that hugged her curvy hips. Nude heels clicked on her feet as she walked through the garage, keys in her hand as she clicked the lock button on the black BMW.

It was a simple model, nothing about it too fancy or high tech. It was in a modest price range for BMW’s and she like that it looked clean and sleek. She also drove it like a total maniac, her foot heavy on the gas and her turns sharp. Catalina drove for fun and not to get places, much to Erin’s often chastisement and insistence on driving.

It took over thirty minutes for Catalina to find the bar that Erin had text her about. Not only was traffic a nightmare, but she had attempted to find it without GPS before screaming and cursing in Spanish, only to make her car end up telling her where to go regardless. Catalina hated that a car had to dictate where to go, but she was already lost with no way of figuring out how to get to the bar.

After walking three blocks because Catalina couldn’t find parking, and also cursing at a man who hit on her, she got to The Berkshire Room. Catalina arched a perfectly sculpted brow as she paid a hefty cover charge before entirely the dimly lit space. The music was some sort of hip music she expected in a modern place and she looked down the long rows of crimson couches to see Erin wave her hand at her.

Erin was sitting with a man name Sean and a girl name Taylor, the two of them twins. Erin had met Sean because he and Taylor had joint custody over their extremely young brother, their parents having passed away in large accident years earlier. Catalina had met the twins briefly, and she had met the last person of their small group multiple times, Erin’s brother Heath. He looked exactly like Erin; dark hair, bright blue eyes that could pass as green on occasion and beautiful features. He kissed her on the cheek as she sat down hurriedly and out of breath.

“Did you get lost again?” Erin asked, leaning around her brother’s arm. Catalina waved her hand for a waitress, asking for a whiskey sour and leaning back. Her feet hurt from practically running in heels. Heath gave her an amused glance that Catalina ignored. He was like her own brother and she knew he was waiting to make a joke about her shoes. “There is a GPS in your car. And on your phone, and your iPad.”

“Yes, that is all well and good but I don’t want to use them forever.”

“It’s dangerous to get lost.”

“You’re such a mom.”

“And you’re a mess.”

With the arrival of her drink, Catalina popped the thin red straw between her lips, making small tugs to polish off half of it. A conversation about Taylor’s art gallery was sparked, Catalina offering different tips to get coverage on it. It was fairly new and though Catalina charged most people for her advice, she liked Taylor’s free spirit and she thought the girl had a true eye for art. Whatever that meant, because Catalina knew nothing about art.

Sean himself was finishing law school. He was the classic kind of handsome with blonde hair slicked back, stubble on his jaw and light brown eyes that glittered in the light of the bar. His sister looked exactly like him, her golden hair flowing like spilt champagne and her smile lighting up their small seating space.

It was easy for Catalina to knock back three drinks. She had a long day at work and she needed to feel the warmth in her skin and the flush in her cheeks. She loved the feeling when her eyes blinked slower and her words began softer. She was on her fourth glass when she heard her name, making her glance up slowly.

Catalina pointed at the man standing in front of her, pausing to look at her. “Corey Crawford,” she said, nailing his name. She had met him last week in her office. He was a nice guy, the goalie on the Blackhawks with an affinity for making her laugh within the few minutes she had spoken with him. “Hi, how are you?”

“Good, I was worried that wasn’t you.”

“Might be weird if it wasn’t.” Catalina turned to her friends who were watching the exchange and she pointed to them all, naming them. “Those two are Sean and Taylor, that’s my roommate Erin and this is her brother Health. This is Corey Crawford, goalie for the Blackhawks.”

“You’ve got a great glove hand,” Heath said, shaking hands with him firmly. Catalina had no idea what that meant, dully sipping the rest of her drink and setting it on the small table that was filling with empty glasses between all of them. “I’m a fan.”

“Thanks man.” Corey turned to Catalina. “I’m not going to get in any trouble here, right? A few of the other guys are here too. Shaw, Toews and Kane.” He pointed to the far end of the bar. Jonathan was the only one who happened to be looking their way and she waved at him. He smiled and lifted a hand, drawing the others attention. Andrew Shaw also gave her a wave while Patrick gave her a crooked smile and shake of the head before turning away. “We’ll be on our best behavior.”

“Oh please,” she waved her hand. “As long as it isn’t seen by the media, I don’t care. I like to come here and have fun too after being in that office all day. Go be a man, drink things, do manly stuff.”

He gave her a look. “Manly stuff.”

She waved her hand. “I may be a bit tipsy, so just… man stuff.”

“Right, man stuff. I’ll see you later. It was nice meeting you all.”

“Another drink, ma’am?” The waitress asked, eyeing the empty glasses. Catalina gave her a thumbs up and winked, making the woman raise her brows as she went to the bar to retrieve another cocktail.

“Guess who will be carrying Catalina home tonight?” Heath joked, shaking his head at her. Erin was eyeing Catalina carefully while drinking her own whiskey, but Catalina could tell that Erin was already loosened by the flush of red in her neck and the way she chewed her lip. “Not herself, that’s for sure.”

“No me jodas,” Catalina muttered, accepting the next drink. “I’m twenty-six years old, I can handle myself. Does anyone want tequila? I want tequila.”



At twenty-six years old, Catalina was drunk and leaning on Erin. She had a lucid smile on her face and she was watching Taylor and Erin animatedly tell a story that Catalina couldn’t remember the subject on. Everything was moving slower and everything was duller to hear. She licked her lips, all of the lipstick gone and replaced by the dull taste of whiskey and a few rounds of tequila.

Heaviness weighed her head down. She picked her up her slightly, turning her eyes to rake her eyes slowly across the bar. There were a few blurry faces but she could still distinctly make out the three men on the team across the bar. Jonathan and Corey were in deep conversation about something, Corey using his hands to talk while Jonathan nodded. Patrick was leaning on the table, his hand on the waist of a beautiful girl with caramel skin and dark hair. Catalina looked at the girl’s shoes, a beautiful pair of Jimmy Choos that Catalina instantly wanted to covet.

Turning her head away, she looked up at Heath who was watching her. He raised his brows as she gave him a grin that stretched too wide, revealing all of her pearly whites. Drunk and up close, Catalina couldn’t help but think how much Heath looked like his sister, which made Catalina freaked out. Catalina and Andrew looked nothing alike, so seeing all of these friends with siblings who were nearly identical was strange.

“You have a lazy eye when you’re drunk," Heath said.

“You have… green eyes when you’re drunk.”

“I always have green eyes.”

“No, sometimes they’re blue.”

Heath laughed. “That depends on what I’m wearing, not how drunk I am. You are quite interesting to watch when you’re drinking. Actually, if I recall, the last time I saw you drunk, you convinced everyone that aliens were a real thing based off of the movie Men In Black.”

Catalina grabbed him by the shoulders, turning him to face her. Her face was deadly serious, eyes wide as she leveled him with a glare. Heath was trying not to laugh at her and she could tell, but she continued to look serious. “Area 51, Heath. That’s all I need to say.”

“What?” He laughed. “That isn’t an argument, Cat!”

“You’re right, cos’ it’s a fact!”

“Oh no. Guys!” Everyone looked at Heath who had interrupted their conversation. “Her accent is coming out, the Miami is slipping through and I can hear the Cuban in her.”

“Es’ not even coming out,” she defended, which was a lie.

Catalina had a strange habit of both using her native tongue when she was too drunk to make the process from Spanish to English, and also letting her native accent slip through. She had been born and raised in Miami, Florida and she had grown up with Spanish as a first language. Everything that went through her brain was a process of Spanish shifting to English.

It was difficult, growing up in a very American country in a very non-American place. In Miami, Spanish was accepted everywhere. Most people wouldn’t deal with you if you didn’t speak Spanish. Catalina learned that everywhere else, she needed to be extremely articulated and eloquent in English just as well as she was in her native tongue. Most of America didn’t make room for people who wouldn’t speak their language perfectly, especially if you let them know it wasn’t your first language.

So of course when people called her out on her accent, she scowled. She turned away from Heath frowning. Catalina knew rationally there was nothing wrong with her accent. So what if sometimes she pronounced her A’s differently or if her R’s came out with a rolled tongue. She couldn’t help it, especially when inebriated.

“Oh Cat, don’t do that,” Heath pleaded with her. He realized he hit a nerve with her, especially when Erin tossed him a scathing glare, touching Catalina on the arm. Catalina gave her a small smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I think it’s cute.”

“Se acabo la fiesta,” Catalina spat, literally saying the party was over but using it as an expression to convey she was done being out. She glanced up, watching Patrick move across the bar with the girl he had been talking to. She didn’t catch his eye, but it looked like he was also leaving. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Erin stood up. Catalina followed before promptly feeling the weight of the alcohol knock her back over right into the seat. Her head was spinning and she closed her eye, holding her hand up so that she could intercept Erin’s concerned hand. “Uno momento.”

Erin didn’t speak any Spanish but she at least seemed to understand that as Catalina took deep breaths, collecting herself. Sitting up right in the seat, she attempted to get up again, swaying in her heels. Catalina had done the number one offense in drinking: drinking too much while sitting down. The moment she stood, her body felt different and everything rush through her.

“Can you walk?” Catalina felt guilty. Erin wasn’t sober either but she was clearly concerned for Catalina. Smiling and offering her hand to her best friend, Catalina and Erin laced their fingers, making their way extremely slowly so that neither of them teetered over. “Impressive, Cat.”

“Not to shabby yourself, stud.” Catalina’s shoe rolled and she wobbled, Heath catching her and righting her, despite Catalina’s scathing glare she sent in his direction. Patrick was walking by in that moment as Heath removed his hands and gave her a look. Catalina and Patrick made eye contact and she hesitated before tilting her head. “Mr. Kane.”

He tipped his head back, leading the girl by them. “Mrs. Suarez. Trouble walking?”

She gave him a tight-lipped grin. “I’m fine.”

“I see. Have a nice night.”

“You too.” It wasn’t until he gave her a strange look that Catalina realized she must have said it in Spanish. She shrugged it off, walking up to the bar to close out her tab. It was a treacherous walk, her balance completely vanishing and her center of gravity becoming more of a center of depravity.

When the group went outside, they said they’re goodbyes. Catalina was in no state to drive her car so she began stumbling to the sidewalk. Heath caught up to her, steadying her and hailing a cab for his sister, himself and Catalina who was still making angry faces whenever Heath came near her.

As predicted, Heath did have to carry Catalina home. The walk from the sidewalk to the elevator seemed too hard for either Erin or Catalina to figure out so he carried one after the other to the elevator. His sister was first followed by Catalina, both of them laughing as he shook his head. When he got them to their room, he decided to crash on the couch, too tired to leave.

Catalina crawled into bed in her dress, kicking off only her shoes. The entire room began spinning as she lay there so she propped herself up with pillows before finally getting comfortable enough to fall into a drunk and dreamless sleep.