Inside Out

Three

It is now two days after I left my hometown in GA, driving for a total of about thirty six hours. It is five in the afternoon, and I am starting to get sleepy. I stopped on the west side of Texas to sleep in an airport parking lot, bought food from a fast food chain a few times, mainly burgers and fries, and I am just now making it through the California boarder.

I pull out my phone and look for hotels near Los Angeles, which is where I have decided to go. I scroll through the results, glancing up at the road about every two to three seconds, and find one right in the middle of the city.

I press the call button that is next to the name of the hotel and bring my phone to my ear, waiting for someone to pick up.

"Thank you for calling Marriott Los Angeles," The lady starts, "My name is Mandy. How may I direct your call?"

"Hi Mandy, I was wondering if there are any rooms left for a last minute reservation," I reply.

"When will your time of arrival be?"

"Probably tonight, no more than two hours," I say, hoping there is a room left.

"One moment- We have one room left."

Thank god, I think to myself as I start to get drowsy.

"The room has one full bed, one bathroom, and pool access from the back glass door," Mandy says.

"That's perfect!" I reply. "I'll take it."

"May I please have your name, phone number, and method of payment?" she asks.

I give her my information as I come up on the California traffic. Cars flying down the road on the overpass above me, much faster than the speed limit.

I look at the green sign posted above the road to see which exit is LA. It is coming up in a mile, so I get over to the right lane to prepare to get off.

I take the on-ramp, accelerating quickly onto the local interstate, speeding up to the flow of traffic which is around eighty-five miles per hour. Nice and fast.

I finally finish reserving my room on the phone and plug the address into the GPS on my phone so I don't get lost in the middle of LA rush hour traffic.

"Take the next exit, and continue for 5 miles and your destination will be on the right," The GPS says.

That is a lot closer than I thought it would be.

I take the next ramp off the interstate and continue down the busy six lane road, looking for the hotel. The GPS says it is in one mile and there is a parking garage just ahead, so I decided to turn in and park here.

I roll down my window, pressing the blue button to receive a ticket so I can go park. The arm swings open, and I go to the first level, parking right near the entrance. I put my car in park, turning off the engine to let it rest. It has been driving for close to forty hours, it has to be worn out.

My hand reaches into the console and pull out my phone charger and stuff it in my bag. I grab my wallet and phone and put it in there as well, zipping the top and making sure nothing will fall out.

I open my door, grabbing my bag and pulling it out behind me and shut the door. I get out and walk between my car and the silver car next to me when I bump into a man, dropping my keys.

"Oh, I am so sorry," I say, picking my keys up off the ground. "I wasn't looki-,"

Once I look up and see the man standing in front of me, I pause. He is wearing a caramel colored pair of slim jeans, cuffed at the bottom, showing his boots and a sliver of his socks, and a black sweater. His hair was pushed to the side, showing his crystal blue eyes.

"Oh my god," He says, eyes widening. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah wh-," I start, realizing that my face is still bruised from previous events. "Oh you mean my face. I am fine, thanks."

We stand there, standing on the white line separating the two cars, looking at each other for a few seconds. I put my head down and walk forward, the man moving to the side.

As I am walking I spot a set of glass doors that say "Marriott" on them. This must be connected because the parking garage for the hotel is a street over.

I can still feel the man's vibrant blue eyes looking at my small figure as I walk away.

He was so tall and slim and his face was absolutely beautiful. I may not ever see him again though. There are several million people in California.

I get to the doors and grab the handle, and as I am about to swing it open, I see my reflection in the glass and understand why that man was so shocked.

I have a black eye, my nose is swollen, my lip is cracked, ears which have blood stains, bruised jaw, and then the splitting headache kicks in because I looked at a light on the ceiling.

The car door of his BMW opens as I swing open the glass door and walk in, following the signs down the hall to the front desk.

I walk along the fake wood flooring, and all I can think about is the man I ran into. He was nice enough to ask if I was alright, I mean he is good looking and nice! How can I not think about him?

Once I walk up to the front desk, I see a little blonde haired lady standing and typing on a computer.

"Hi," I say, "I made a reservation about an hour ago under the name Kevin Smith."

"One moment," she says, not looking up from her computer. "I have you right here, sir. How many cards would yo-,"

She looks up and sees my face, but continues to talk.

"You like?" She finishes.

"Just one, please," I reply as she looks at my face.

She grabs a card from under the desk and swipes it along the side of the computer, activating the card.

"Have a nice stay!" She says.

I smile and nod, going to the right down the hall, trying to search for room 131. I can only stay for four nights, so I am most likely going to sleep tonight and start looking for an apartment and possibly a job tomorrow.

Lugging my stuff down the hall, I come up to my room and slide the card into the door as the green light and a beep goes off, meaning I can enter. I open the door, looking around. The bathroom is on the left, right when you enter. A little closet with an iron and safe is on the left across from the bathroom.

The door shuts quickly behind me, and see a decent sized flat screen with a mini fridge and microwave underneath, right across from the bed, which was covered in a soft, white duvet.

I lay my bag down at the end of the bed and unpack the contents of the bag, seeing what actually made it in, and what I had to leave behind.

I pull out a pair of exercise shorts, a light blue jacket, one pair of pants, three torn t-shirts, and one nice blue polo shirt.

"I guess I am going to have to go shopping tomorrow," I say to myself.

I pick all of the clothes up by the hangers and hang them up in the closet, except for the shorts.

I take my clothes off, except for my shirt, and put on the pair of shorts.

I walk over to the glass door and look out at the pool, which is the smallest hotel pool I have actually ever seen in my life. It would probably fit no more than seven or eight people, and this is a huge hotel.

I shut the blackout curtain and make sure the doors are locked.

Once that is done, I climb into the bed, plugging my phone charger into the lamp, which has an outlet on the base, and plugs my phone in. I set it on the side table and switch off the lamp, shutting my eyes, getting some much-needed rest.