cigarette butts ➸ michael clifford

04. Ruby

We had arrived when it was fairly late, the lone building standing out against the black landscape. My mother escorted me through the sliding doors and made me endure, what she convinced me to be, the walk of shame. The desk was seemingly unoccupied, but a metal bell sat on the desk top. The whole place was pretty quiet, until my mother rang the bell twice and waited. There was a radio sat on the counter not too far away from the bell and a classic rock station was playing on low.

Seasons don't fear the reaper, nor do-

"Fuck this," I muttered, turning on my heel and walking to the seated area - away from the irony.

My shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor, echoing around the silent room, causing my mom to whisper shout at me. I took no notice, slinging the duffel bag onto a chair and plopping myself next to it. I rested my head in my hands, scrunching my nose up, my eyes automatically following my mothers every move. I refuse to be seen next to her.

She continuously rang the bell, her fingers tapping on the desk, patience beginning to wear thin. I rolled my eyes, getting myself ready to yell at her, but just as she was about to ring again, an older woman, with graying hair and a pair of glasses hanging on the end of her pointed nose, poked her head around the door way. She held an unimpressed expression on her face. Huffing, she took a seat at the desk.

I feel you, lady.

"Do you want to ring again, maybe call for room service?"

My mother recoiled in horror, too shocked to respond, as I could not and would not contain the smirk that broke out.

"Can I help you?" the lady drawled.

"Yes. Yes you can," mother snapped. "I've been waiting for a good 10 minutes. This is not good service, is it? Makes me wonder why I even came here."

"Makes me wonder, too," The lady retorted, bored.

I sniggered as my mother spluttered and backpedaled, not expecting the woman to continue to challenge her.

"I'm here to admit my daughter, Ruby Lawrence," my mom mumbled, defeated.

The lady averted her stare to the monitor that sat in front of her, her eyes flicking left to right, her fingers dashing over the keyboard. A few seconds had passed before she logged me as 'arrived.' She looked up over her glasses and motioned for me to come over. I stood up, grabbed my bag and pretty much cat walked to the desk, mentally applauding as I approached the lady.

She sent me a warm smile, throwing me off guard. I glanced at her name badge, that read 'Rita'.

"I'm going to get you situated on your floor. Say goodbye," Rita informed me softly.

"Bye, Lynn," I said, coldness clinging to my words, finished with a forced smile.

I turned on my heel with Rita by my side, who was obviously trying to bite back a smile.

Those movie friends with the movie victory? Rita.

Stepping foot into an elevator, I turned around, just in time to see my mothers blank look, before the doors closed.

"Cold as ice," Rita smiled sadly.

"I'm not even sorry," I snorted, staring at my feet.

"Do you like sourpatch kids?" Rita asked.

"Do you like sourpatch kids?" I countered, a grin on my face.

Rita just chuckled, her hand sliding into her pocket to pull out an already open bag, that she passed to me. The doors slid open and she led me down the hall way, taking a few turns before she came to hall where I would be staying. I shoved a hand full of sourpatch kids in to my mouth, my eyes pretty much rolling in ecstasy. Rita pulled out a keycard, slid it through, gaining access, and passed the card to me. She flicked the lights on and turned to face me.