The Month of April (The Series of Months; Book #1)

Chapter V

The Red Motel, a shabby elbow shaped building on the opposite side of border street, was nothing worth bragging about. Rather, it appeared to me too look like a getaway for rebellious teenagers, or eve where scandalous meetings were meant too take place. It was hard not to profile the dirty stucco or the shabby crooked doors, or even the cracks in the windows. It screamed "shady shady shady" like it were the vacancy door glowing below it's name.

I grew suspicious of April when she didn't seem phased by the abandoned streets nor the closing darkness that seeped towards us like fog. Rain had started drowning the gutters of every building not three hours ago, and I felt the cold seep through my flesh and touched my bones. But April? She was practically untouched; the only emotion she expressed to our current surroundings was utter detachment.

Leaving the loft had given me some relief, the twelve stories high making me feel like I was at the top of a skyscraper. Looking up only made it worse, causing a sickening anxiety to fill my stomach with hornets. In the daylight, I could spy the iron graveyard, the distance of the sparking city, the hawks that roamed in the nothingness beyond.

Saying I was relieved to have my feet on real solid ground is an understatement.

I felt a shiver run down my spine. April insisted that we wait outside the motel, just for a little while --though a little while dragged on for hours in the cold of rain-- to make sure no one too shady went in. She didn't say anything to me, nor expressed any discomfort in the rain. I had tried to be as stoic as her, but after my teeth started chattering uncontrollably, I finally gave in and curled into myself.

I felt her sweater drop over my shoulders, the wool cardigan instantly coating me with warmth. She had her purple eyes fixed on the motel, like she were analyzing every cranny for some excuse not to go in. I was beginning to see my breath fanning out in front of me, the cold biting at my fingers. Patience was never one of my virtues, though I was trying to wait as long as I could before voicing my discomfort to the expert.

"Wha-" My teeth clattered again, my body beginning to shake, "What are we waiting for again?" I pulled at the neckline of the sweater to cover my exposed chin.

"I told you already," she seemed so unphased by the cold, and untouched by the shadows. She glowed like a beacon, a warm beacon. I wanted to snuggle into her light, find safety in her umbrella of mystery. Despite everything I didn't know about April, she was the an angel to the contrasting bleakness of the streets.

No Emmy.

A scared angel. Perhaps even a fallen one, thrown out from the sparkling city and into the streets because she is insurgent. A rebel. An outcast. I shouldn't trust her. Even here, there were people that hated her, saw her as the anomaly of her eyes.

But I wanted to trust her. Maybe it was the naive part of me, the young and hopeful side I couldn't let go of.

"What did you tell me," I huffed, "Remind me."

She smirked, "Someone is feeling feisty, eh?"

"It is freezing out here, April!" I threw my hands out of the comfort of my sweater, "Look! I'm shaking!"

"I'd offer my shirt, but I don't think it'd be wise for me to remove any more clothing," she gave me a sly smile, only looking at me from the corner of her eye. I felt my face turn red. True, she had already given my her sweater, but... WHY DID SHE FEEL THE NEED TO SAY THAT?!

"Well, I-" Badump badump badump, I could feel my heart in my ears, feel the burn on my face. I felt the question off my tongue. Though I wanted to scream at her, I had the right of mind to at least whisper my scolding, "You don't need to say it like that!"