Mr. Lone Boy /BoyxBoy/

||Twenty-seven||

"You said we wouldn't have to stay at a motel."

Tom fidgeted. "I may have underestimated the distance."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'll pay for it," said Jesse.

"You don't have to-"

"I don't mind."

"But-" Tom tried to continue, but Jesse only waved him off.

"Come on, we need to get our rooms."

With that, Jesse and Tom walked away from the van and made their way towards the motel's entrance.

I sighed. "Great. Next thing you know it, we'll have to share a room."

Ian laughed. "I don't think our luck could be that bad."

--

"I freakin' called it," I muttered angrily, throwing all my belongings down on the mattress.

Ian frowned. "How can a motel run out of rooms? It's a motel."

I shook my head. "Apparently all the other rooms are under maintenance."

Ian sighed and fell back against the bed, his arms spread out beside him. "Oh, well."

I glanced at him one last time before turning away. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Ian sat up suddenly. "No, I'll do it. I'm used to sleeping on the floor."

"Which is exactly why it should be me sleeping on the floor."

"Nate..."

"Ian..." I mimicked.

Ian sighed for the hundredth time. "I don't get why we can't just sleep in the van."

I gave him a look, then shook my head. "Maybe you do deserve to sleep on the floor."

"Case closed," he said, moving away from the bed. "I'll get someone to set up a mattress."

"Could you grab something for us to eat?"

He nodded. "Sure."

He left, shutting the door behind him gently.

I released a long sigh of relief before falling against the stiff bed. I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes fixated on a particular dark stain near the light bulb.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps we'll get along together quite well and become great friends. That was the main purpose of Ian coming along anyway. So we could both put what happened behind us.

I rolled to my side, and with a few hand stretches, I managed to grab the TV remote from the night stand.

Finally relaxing, I switched on the TV and began my brain frying session.

--

I woke up with a start.

The single window by the corner of our minuscule room had its curtain drawn shut. Someone had turned the television off while I was sleeping, taken my shoes off, and had thrown a blanket over my body while they were probably freezing their toes off.

I frowned, squinting against the darkness as I wrapped the blanket around me tightly. I rolled off the bed and almost stumbled over my own feet as I tried to navigate my way to the bathroom. I pressed my finger against the light switch and the bulb at the center of the ceiling flickered for a few seconds.