In My Rearview Mirror, JACK.HUGHES

FOURTEEN

As we arrive at the hotel, I exchange greetings with the lobby clerk. Jack decides to grab a water bottle from the vending machine, wishing us all good night. The remaining group of us enters the elevator and make our way to our rooms. The girls extend an invitation to meet up before tomorrow's game to watch it together, and I happily agree.

After hearing the loud music all night, I am beyond excited to hear the quietness of this hotel. I walk towards my room and I search in my tiny purse for my room key. My anxiety is starting to kick in because I can't find it. 

I rush back to the lobby to get a new one. 

However, the guy at the front desk hesitates, citing safety reasons since the room is reserved under Braden's name. My frustration grows, and I mention that my "boyfriend" will hear about this in the morning. 

The man suggests paying for another room, but I decline, determined not to give them any more of my money. Returning to my door, I decide to wake Braden up this time and deal with the situation.

Desperate to get inside, I've been knocking on the door and attempting to call Braden for the past three minutes, but there's no response. Feeling defeated, I turn away from the door and slide down until my butt meets the floor. With a sigh, I take off my shoes and close my eyes, resigned to the idea that I'll be spending the night outside my room. The exhaustion from the night's events weighs heavily on me, and I find myself hoping that Braden will wake up soon to let me in.

As I sit there, contemplating my predicament, I hear a door open at the end of the hallway. I turn to see Jack, looking at me with a confused expression. "Forgot the key, and the guy at the lobby won't give me one," I explain, agitating my right hand in frustration.

"Come in. I have a couch; I'll sleep on the couch, you can sleep in my bed," he offers. I initially decline, but he insists, saying, "You're drunk, and I won't let you sleep alone in the hallway." With an eye roll, I reluctantly get up and walk to his room. Glancing at my phone, I notice it's 2 am, realizing how tired I'm going to be tomorrow.

In Jack's room, he closes and locks the door behind us.

"You said that I was drunk, but you're drunk too Jacky boy," I playfully point out that he's also drunk, to which he agrees, asking me to stop calling him "Jacky boy" because it gives him the "ick." 

He jokingly mentions that when he heard the banging, he was ready to throw hands, relieved it was only me. He hands me one of his big t-shirts to sleep in, and I head to the bathroom to change and freshen up.

When I get out of the bathroom I see him making his little wannabe bed with a poor blanked. I get into mine and set on my alarm for 7 am so that I can get a little five hours of sleep. "Thank you Jack for offering me your room." Expressing my gratitude, I thank Jack for offering me his room.

With a casual shrug, Jack replies, "No problem, I would do anything for my friends," his voice muffled by a yawn. I can't ignore the peculiar undertone that lingers after he uses the word "friends." It creates a momentary awkwardness, making me roll my eyes involuntarily. Sharing a room with Jack, especially after our history, adds an unexpected layer of irony to the situation.

The room settles into an almost palpable silence, broken only by the soft rustling of the blanket as Jack adjusts himself on the sofa. The atmosphere seems charged with unspoken tension, leaving me wide awake despite the late hour. I sense that Jack, too, is far from drifting into a peaceful slumber.

Unable to withstand the quiet any longer, I decide to break the silence. "Jack?" I call out, and he shifts on the sofa, turning to face me. The subtle play of shadows from the dim lighting dances across his face as he awaits my words.