A Small Town Lie

༎One༎

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I thrashed about on my bed, wide awake and miserable, as the sweltering heat suffocated me. It felt like the earth was ablaze, and I wouldn't have been shocked if the loaf of bread on top of my fridge had spontaneously toasted.

Just as I was starting to drift off, a piercing, ear-splitting buzz assaulted my eardrum, making me jump. In a reflexive move, I slapped at my ear, only to cry out in pain when I realized I'd hit myself too hard. I loathed mosquitoes and their incessant, blood-curdling whine, which seemed to mock me in the darkness.

My body was slick with sweat, and the red welts from mosquito bites dotted my skin like a constellation of misery. I groaned as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my movements heavy with exhaustion. I shuffled over to the table, slid open a drawer with a creak, and rummaged through its contents until I found a mosquito coil. A triumphant grin spread across my face as I lit it up, hoping the swirling smoke would repel the pesky insects and bring me some respite.

But even with the coil's protection, sleep remained elusive. I tossed and turned, feeling like I was trapped in a sauna. "Please, Lord," I thought, "I know I'm a sinner, but I'm still alive, so why does it feel like hellfire is raging inside me?"

The heat and discomfort seemed to be suffocating me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being slowly roasted alive.

I reached for my phone to check the time, the glowing screen reading 11:27pm. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my movements fueled by desperation. I grabbed my keys from the table and headed outside, making sure to lock the door behind me. The night air was thick and heavy as I walked on foot, trekking a few blocks away from my new place. I had moved in just today, and already I was seeking refuge elsewhere.

As I turned a corner, I spotted a small hotel with a modest fence that looked easily scalable. A sense of relief washed over me as I quickened my pace. The hotel's sign creaked in the gentle breeze, reading simply: "Hotel?"

I stifled a laugh, the absurdity of the name striking me even in my exhausted state. Who names a hotel with a question mark? I thought, shaking my head. But I wasn't about to quibble over semantics - I just needed a place to escape the sweltering heat and mosquitoes that had made my new apartment unbearable.

I vaulted over the low fence, my eyes scanning the premises for any sign of security - a gateman, a camera, anything. But the place seemed eerily still, abandoned even. The hotel's neglected appearance only reinforced my suspicion - overgrown bushes, peeling paint, and a general air of disrepair. It was no wonder the hotel was struggling, I thought with a snort. I mean, who would want to stay at a place called "Hotel?"? The name itself was a joke, a clear indication of the owner's lack of creativity or effort.

I refocused on my original mission: finding a pool. A hotel, no matter how sketchy, usually had a pool, right? I searched the grounds, my eyes scanning the shadows until I spotted the glint of water in the moonlight. With a sigh of relief, I kicked off my flip-flops and took the plunge, literally. The cool water enveloped me, a refreshing balm for my sweltering skin. I swam laps, letting the water wash away my fatigue and frustration. But as I finally broke the surface to gasp for air, my tranquility was shattered. I let out a blood-curdling scream, my heart racing with fright.

A boy stood in front of the pool, his arms folded across his chest, his gaze fixed on me with an unreadable expression. I quickly emerged from the water, dripping and shivering, my clothes clinging to my body. I hadn't bothered to remove my jean shorts and tank top, and now they felt heavy and uncomfortable, my tank top sticking to my skin and revealing more than I intended. My face flushed with embarrassment as I realized my nipples were clearly visible through the wet fabric.

To my surprise, the boy's gaze remained fixed on my face, his piercing eyes seeming to bore into my soul. He stood towering over me, his muscular physique radiating an aura of quiet confidence. His folded arms accentuated his broad chest, and I couldn't help but notice the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. As he cleared his throat, my eyes darted up to meet his, and I was struck by his chiseled features. His braided cornrows framed his smooth, angular face, and his full lips seemed invitingly soft. His rugged good looks were undeniable, and I felt a flutter in my chest as our eyes locked in a tense, yet mesmerizing, stare.

His eyes that truly captivated me - an unsettling shade of light brown that seemed to bore into my very soul. They narrowed, disapproving, as he gazed down at me with a stern expression.

"You're trespassing," he declared, his voice cold and authoritative, sending a shiver down my spine. I wondered if he was the owner, but his youthful appearance suggested otherwise. He looked like someone I'd sit next to in class, not the person scolding me for trespassing. His age belied the commanding presence he exuded, leaving me feeling both intrigued and intimidated.

I scooped up my flip-flop, flashed him a terse smile, and muttered a quick "Sorry" before turning to beat a hasty retreat.

But his smooth, deep voice stopped me in my tracks. "You must be new around here."

I swiveled back to face him, one eyebrow arching upward in curiosity. I had assumed this small town would be a great place to live a quiet, independent life, free from prying eyes. But it seemed I was wrong. The way he said it, with a hint of knowing, made me realize that everyone probably knew everyone else's business here. I thought that was just a cliché from books, but apparently, it was a reality in this tiny community.

"You don't seem very apologetic," Mr-oh-so-sexy observed, his eyes piercing through my facade. And he was right - I wasn't sorry. This sweltering town had driven me to desperation, and I'd taken matters into my own hands by commandeering the pool. I'd just moved in and was still waiting for the landlord to address the numerous issues with my new place - like getting the electricity connected and fixing the goddamn shower, which only produced a trickle of warm water. In this heat, that was basically torture. I'd been trying to survive without air conditioning or a decent shower, and my frustration was boiling over.

I planted a hand on my hip, my annoyance simmering. "What do you want me to do? Grovel at your feet?" I snapped, my voice laced with sarcasm. His lips curled down in disapproval, and I bristled at the familiar condescending gaze. I'd seen that look countless times before, and it still managed to get under my skin.

I dropped my flip-flop to the ground, slipped my feet back into them, and turned to walk away without waiting for his response. I jumped over the fence once more, trekking back to my place with a sense of relief. As soon as I opened the door, I shed my soaked clothes and collapsed into bed, my mind racing with thoughts of the encounter. Eventually, I drifted into a restless slumber, the tension of the evening still lingering.

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