Pretty Little Lady [Slow Updates]

Misundertood.

Trayvon^
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"What the hell is this?" Tamayla asked in disgust as we pulled up to a small motel.

Trayvon pulled the car into an empty parking space and grinned.

"This is where we're staying, Tamayla," He took the key out as everyone sat in silence. Tamayla looking angry and me looking between the both of them. "Steve can you-"

"Already on it," I hopped out and went to go take the bags put of the trunk. I knew they were having a private conversation so I decided I'd get my bags and head to my room.

When I got to my room which was on the 2nd floor I couldn't help but feel a little OCD. It smelled weird and everything looked bunched up in one area of the room. The curtains were closed so only the dim light gave the roo a small scence of happiness.

The room was an okay size for one person but I wasn't use to how small it was. I dragged my suit case over to my bed and threw it ontop of it.

As I began cleaning and setting up a bit I couldn't help but think if they were sharing a room or not. Then I thouht about what had happened back at my house.

"Ugh," I groaned feeling my head pounding and a headache was sure to come afterwards.

I pushed the now empty suitcase off my bed and laid down on the comfortable mattress. I wanted to call Kayla but I knew she was probably still sleep or at school since it was 8:00 in the morning.

Before I could try there was a knock at the door and I squinted my eyes.

"Wrong room-"

"Open the door, boy," Tamayla's loud voice boomed from the other side and I mentally rolled my eyes. "You could either do one of two things...open the door or sleep with a big ass hole in the wall because I'm not scared to bust this door down-"

"Okay I'm comin'. Calm down," I groaned and dragged myself over to the door. I looked through the peep hole and saw her quickly typing on her phone. "Is there something that you needed, Tamayla?" I mumbled opening the door.

"Well..." she dragged. "Since you asked," she squeezed passed me and walled into my room with a straight face. "I need Kayla's number-"

"Why don't you ask her for it?" I asked. "Or her father?"

"Because he's mad at me," she frowned and turned towards the curtains before peeking through them. "So I thought that you could be my second option."

"U-um," I stuttered weighing the options of giving her the number in my head. If I giver her the number Kayla would probably angry with me for a long ass time. Then again this is her mother and she could be wanting to fix things with her daughter again. "Listen, can I ask you something?" I asked catching her off guard.