Postcard Princess

Ch. 8

With her wallet in her hand, Clarke walked with Bellamy through the air conditioned store, grabbing just a box of hiney buns, a case of red bull, canned coffee, chips, and peanut butter crackers. All simple things she could keep without having to buy plates and all that jazz.

She watched as Bellamy got milk, fruity cereal, and coffee. He helped her load her groceries into the car, even though she could she done it.

He waited on her as she got her key from the front desk of the motel. Walking back out into the night, he was already grabbing her stuff.

She lead the way to the room, Bellamy putting her stuff on the small square table by the window.

"Um. Are you sure there's no where else you would like to stay? I'll take you."

"I don't have anywhere," Clarke shrugged. "Indra would give me her bed and s leeo on the floor and I couldn't live with that. My house hasn't been touched in years, I imagine the dust would kill me."

Bellamy picked her stuff back up and left the room.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Clarke asked, following him as the nitek room door closed behind her.

"Go back in there and get your money back," he told her. "That room is not fit to rent. The carpets were sticky! I don't even want to imagine what could have been in those sheets or the bathroom."

"But-"

"I have a spare room," he told her. She sighed, but followed his instructions. The lady at the desk refunded the week, but kept twenty five dollars because apparently they could charge by the hour.

Clarke suppressed a shudder at that thought, hurrying back into Bellamy's truck.

Clarke sat in silence as they turned down the familiar roads, turning on her road. Bellamy pulled in, right across the street.