Crazy House

Chapter 2: Her skirt is shorter than my middle finger

Chapter 2: Her skirt is shorter than my middle finger

"You've got to be kidding me," is the only thing I can say when I lay eyes on the motel.

For one, I'm used to five star hotels, not motels, especially the run-down one I'm currently facing. There's mold growing on the brick walls, which has got to be some kind of health violation. The "Motel" sign only has one "t" still weakly illuminated.

Tristian gives me an apologetic shrug, "It looks worse on the inside," he offers, as if that's supposed to make me feel better.

I let out a sigh as I place my head inside my hands, "This sucks." I sigh as I unbuckle my seatbelt. I don't have other options, so I guess I'll be staying here until I decide where to go next.

"So you're going to stay here?" Tristian asks, raising a brow at me.

I just shrug a shoulder. "I don't have many other options, now do I?" I tell him as I reach into my pockets. "Here," I say, passing him a twenty dollar bill. "Thanks for the ride."

He frowns at the bill but doesn't hesitate in taking it. "That really isn't necessary." He explains. "I guess I should at least help you get settled in." He offers as he gets out of the car to take my bags from the back seat.

"Thank you," I say as he helps me take my bags into the building to the check in desk.

"Hey Tristian," a dark skinned woman behind the desk says as soon as we walk in. To say that the inside looks bad is an understatement. The dim yellow lights barely light up the room. The couches might once have been green, but those days are long gone, as are the couch cushions. The whole room has a greyish look, and when I run a finger over the receptionist's desk, it comes off with a thick coating of dust.

"Hey Mel," Tristian says, sending her a smile. "Got any good rooms available?" He asks her.

She frowns as she looks at me. "Honey, you don't look like the type to be hooking." She tells me with a straight face, and I blush a deep red.

Tristian lets out a chuckle, "Mel, she's not a hooker," he says. Then, a thoughtful look comes onto his face, "You aren't a hooker, are you?"

I rub my face in embarrassment, hoping to hide the cherry red colour blooming on my cheeks. "No."

He smirks at me before turning back to Mel. "So any good rooms?" He glances at me. "I don't think she'll mix good with the rats on the outside rooms."

Rats?

"Well, a pipe burst, so we only have three rooms open." She says.

Tristian nods. "Which three?" He asks. as if he's an expert on the rooms here.

Considering Mel thought I was a hooker, he probably does come here often, though not for the reason he's here now.

"23, 25, and 30 are open."

"The bathrooms in those are pretty nasty." Tristian says, and my mouth drops open.

"How many times do you come here? Don't you stay in this town?" I ask him.

"Yeah, I stay here in town but I come here often, for meetings." He says."So how do you feel about nasty bathrooms?" He asks.

Considering that I've grown up in a mansion my whole life, nasty bathrooms don't sound so great right now.

"I'm sorry, but that doesn't work for me." I say as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Well I'm sorry, hun, but that's all we've got available." Mel says, trying to sound sympathetic but instead sounding annoyed.