** TW: This book is a dark, potentially disturbing story that deals with triggering topics such as mental illness, drug use, SH, and death. Avoid this book if any of these topics are triggering to you. Thank you. -Max **
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Israel Gallego...
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"Do you want to wash off a little bit before bed?" Nomed asks from the other motel bed. He's already in his fuzzy blue pants. "It might help your hangover tomorrow."
I wave him off, "Nothin's gonna stop the hangover. Nothin' ever does."
My head hits the pillow. There's a bottle of something in my hand but I can't remember what it is. I don't want to turn the light on to figure it out. If I'm honest with myself a shower doesn't sound too bad, but I don't feel like moving around. I'd drown in my own pool of sweat just to keep this drowsy feeling alive.
"I'll sleep in Hugo's room," Hatch said when we got to the motel. He was nine shots deep and looking for more.
"No. Why? Let Nova go." I swiped the bottle from his hand.
"Israel doesn't know Nova that well," he said reaching for it again. I pulled away, harder than I meant to.
"He doesn't know you either."
He stopped in his tracks and frowned at me. I hate this part of the conversation. It's always the same thing from him and then the same thing from me in response. Nothing ever changes.
"Don't do this tonight. Please."
"What I'm I doing?" I asked sarcastically. I took another drink from the bottle, not looking away from his drunk face. "Tell me."
He stared at me forever. The hallways were empty. A radio in the lobby was playing reggaeton. I could smell Hatch's breath from where I was standing. I prepared for his prepackaged, meticulously measured speech. The one I have so memorized I could sing along with him. The requests to be okay and to trust him and to just get some sleep.
But it never came.
He twirled around, read the number on the door, and swung into the room haphazardly. He left me alone in the hot, ugly, filthy hallway.
"Where do you think Nova is?" Nomed asks. I'm suddenly back in the room and back in the present.
"The check-in person was a chick with huge tits. You know where he is," I say rolling over. I think I need to shower.
"Yeah," he sighs, "you're right."
I hear the last light flick off followed the sound of him getting comfortable in his bed.
"I'm excited for breakfast tomorrow. Maybe we can find a McDonald's or something," he whispers. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," I mumble back as I swing up onto my feet. I throw the bottle onto the bed and drag my feet to the bathroom.
The shower springs to life and I feel my clothes just melt right off my skin. The water is cold and sobering, but not sobering enough. I slump onto the shower floor and rest my eyes.
