Quote: "It takes a strong heart to love, but it takes an even stronger heart to continue to love after it's been hurt."
Published: July 16, 2018
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Chapter 6: "Motel California"
It's dark as the bus pulls into a parking lot of a motel. We make our way out of the bus and our pack looks around. Chills are sent down my spine as I look at the motel sign, 'Motel Glen Capri.'
"I've seen worse." Scott states.
"Where have you seen worse?" Stiles asks him.
Coach blows his whistle completely cutting off any and all conversations. "Listen up. The meet's been pushed till tomorrow. This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and least amount of good judgement when it comes to accepting a bunch of degenerates like yourselves. You'll be pairing up. Choose wisely." Coach says as he holds out a bunch of room keys. "And I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants. Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!"
Everyone walks to their rooms, but Allison and I stop as we realize Lydia isn't following us.
"Lydia?" Allison asks.
"I don't like this place."
"Yeah, same." I say to Allison.
"I don't think the people who own this place like this place. It's just for one night." Allison tries to reassure us.
"A lot can happen in one night."
》》》
After we set our bags down and figured out our sleeping arangements bewtween us three girls, Allison decided that she was gonna take a shower.
"Hey, Lydia?" Allison asks. "Can you go get some new towels, they smell of cigarette smoke."
"Yeah, sure."
"I'll go with." I say as I follow Lydia out of the room.
We get to the reception area and there's an older woman behind the counter.
"Excuse me? Uh, the card on the dresser says we have a non-smoking room, but somehow all of our towels reek of nicotine." Lydia complains to her.
"Sorry about that, sweethart's." The receptionist says as she turns to look at us and unsurprisingly she has a breathing tube in her throat from smoking to much.
I look away from her as something catches my eyes. I look to see a number, one-hundered and ninty-eight. "What's that?" I ask her. "That number?"
"It's a kind of inside thing for the motel. My husband insists on keeping it up." She says and she sounds unsure of telling us this.
"What do you mean?" Lydia asks.
"It's a little bit morbid, to be honest. You sure you want to know?"
"Tell us."
"We're not gonna make the top of anyone's list when it comes to customer satisfaction."
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