Motel 38 (Short Story) // Klaroline

Chapter 1

Before reading: This is a five chapter book! It is a short story, hence why it is so short. Please vote and comment on each chapter if you enjoy! :)

• • •

She looks out at the gray city before her, her tired eyes struggling to keep themselves open. She has no clue where she is, or where she's heading, she just knows she needs to get away.

Away from everything. Away from her small apartment back in Seattle which she shares with her boyfriend, Tyler. She doesn't even know if she should call him that anymore after everything that happened last night before she, in the spur of the moment anger, packed only her necessities and left without a word.

Numerous texts from him appear on her screen before her to which she rolls her eyes at.

-Where are you?!

-You can't be serious Caroline.

-Fuck you, you know that? Fuck you!

-I'm sorry, okay. I was mad. Please come back. We can talk this out.

She simply giggles at his idiotic state of mind. He told her to fuck off and then begs for her to come back to him? Loser. This wouldn't have happened if he didn't mess up. She would still be in bed, snuggling with Tyler while he whispers a bunch of lies in her ear.

The rain pours against the window creating a relaxing pitter-patter which calms her nerves. She runs a hand through her blonde locks, trying to tame the practical lion's mane which she calls her hair.

"Where's the nearest motel?" she speaks up, her voice sleepy and in desperate need of a cup of coffee and a good night's sleep.

"About a mile down, why? Would you like me to stop?" the taxi driver asks, quickly glancing back at her.

She debates in her head if she really wants to get a motel instead of waiting the extra thirty minutes to arrive at the much nicer hotel she was planning on staying at.

"Yes please," she finally decides on, the need for any form of energy winning the argument.

The short, brown haired man nods and takes a right on the next road. The tall buildings line the city, and she wishes she could stay here forever. It's beautiful, really.

"We're almost here, ma'am," the driver announces, noticing the young girl nearly falling asleep.

She jumps slightly at the sudden voice, and nods, grasping her surroundings. She pulls out a twenty from her wallet and plays with the green paper between her hands, rolling it up and unrolling it.

The taxi pulls into a small, quaint building with a red neon sign hanging above it reading: Motel 38.

"The total is fifty dollars," he informs her, waiting to receive the cash. She hands him a fifty and then a twenty for the tip, smiling.

"Keep the change!" she yells after climbing out, waving goodbye as he pulls away with a large, gracious smile on his face. He needs it more than I do, she thinks to herself as she walks towards the front door, her black boots clicking against the pavement.

She opens the door and smiles at the young boy looking to be in his teens sitting at the front desk, a comic book in his hand. He looks up, completely uninterested, and groans to himself, placing the book down.

"Hello, welcome to Motel 38. How many?" the boy asks in a dull voice as if reading off a script for the thousandth time, clearly noting there is only one person standing in front of him.

"Uh, one. Thank you," her smile doesn't fade, trying to lighten his mood. The scowl doesn't slip from his face. He obviously doesn't want to be here on a Friday night, but she can't blame him.

"Mom, can I have a key for room... 16?" the teenager calls to someone in the back room. It must be a family run business, she concludes.

A middle aged woman scampers out of the back room with a key in her hand, seemingly very busy and absolutely exhausted. Dark bags form circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, and she can't help feeling sorry for the woman.

"Here Will," she wipes the beads of sweat off of her forehead and hands her son the key. The woman smiles at her before returning to the other room.

"Take the stairs to the right, third door to the left," he instructs and returns to his comic book, placing the keys on the counter.

"Thanks," she rolls her eyes at his rudeness and takes the keys. Can't he have just a little bit of manners?

She follows his directions and walks up the stairs to the right of the building, lugging her bag behind her. She searches for the third door to the left and finally reaches it, room 16.

She sighs, putting the key into the lock and opening it up in relief. She places her luggage on the bed, closing the door behind her. One of the beds is messy, probably from the previous person. House cleaning is seriously bad around here.

She takes a seat on the creaky bed, rubbing her eyes. I wonder if they have a cafe, I need a coffee desperately.

Just as she is about to lay back, enjoying the moment of silence for once in her life, the door knob clicks open, and she nearly shrieks from fear.

"Wrong room!" she yells as the door opens, and who stands before her completely blows her away.

A young man with extremely good looks dressed in a formal tux eyes her in what seems to be annoyance and partly confusion.

"This is my room. I'm afraid it is you who has the wrong room, love," he lets out a deep chuckle, rolling his eyes sarcastically. He's British, she thinks, her heart beating a little quicker than she'd like in embarrassment.

"What? I have room 16, it says here on my key!" she argues, standing up to show the guy her proof.

"No, I have room 16. Who the hell is in charge around here?" he growls in frustration, pacing towards his luggage. He grabs his phone out of the suitcase.

"I don't understand," she states, and the man rolls his eyes once again.

"They gave us the same room."