years older than us, and wear nothing but black -- black pants, black tshirts, black shoes. One of them opened the cab door, gazing at us without interest as we tumbled out of the backseat.
Sophie led the way into the hotel, and I followed with my bulky overnight bag, feeling it hit awkwardly against the back of my knees as I walked into the lobby. Part of me still couldn’t believe that no one was stopping us, realizing instantly like the publicist from the concert that we didn’t belong here, not a bit.
I felt the strap of my bag lifted off my shoulder, and when I looked to my side, Blake was holding the bag for me, a half-smile flickering across his face.
It looked heavy, he said, shrugging his shoulders.
The hotel was loud and crowded, a dimly lit bar at one side of the lobby playing music that I didn’t recognize. Colored lights illuminated rows of liquor bottles, each varying degrees of empty. Waif-like bartenders with long hair and choppy bangs stood in front of them, pouring bright cocktails into frosted glasses. As we passed the lobby, a woman sat in an oversized armchair talking to a man, her giant Saint Bernard lounging on the floor next to them.
The elevator was silent as we stepped inside, relieved that it was empty. Blake slipped his keycard into a slot and hit the button for the top floor, and I leaned back against the mirrored wall, feeling the elevator rise smoothly and quickly.
The digital panel registered the top floor and the doors opened, leading us into a small hallway decorated with black and white photographs. There were only two doors, one at either end of the foyer, and Blake slipped his keycard into one of them and clicked open the door.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe I was thinking it would be a few people, sitting around on couches, like one of Matt Andrews parties. Maybe, if I was being totally honest, I was harboring a faint hope that Blake was trying to seduce me, and we’d walk into a room with soft music and flower petals. Maybe I just expected it to be empty.
I didn’t expect it to look like the lobby downstairs. The lights were almost off and music was blasting, loudly enough that I wondered how the people in the rooms below felt about it. Several dozen people were gathered around the room, and what I assumed was a coffee table was pushed to one side of the space, covered in liquor bottles and juice. A bucket of ice sat collecting condensation in the table’s center.
I couldn’t keep the confusion off my face, and I could tell that Blake noticed it. Leaning his head close to mine, he whispered into my ear, Now you see why we went to the bookstore.
I froze, feeling my hands start to shake at the distance between my body and his. He could just kiss me now, I thought, wishing for it as if it was something I could control. I barely managed to nod, feeling my mouth curl into a smile.
Who are all these people? I whispered, trying not to sound too surprised.
I don’t even know most of them, he said, using normal volume again and straightening up. I exhaled, quelling my disappointment for a moment. Whenever we’re in a big city, April and Jesse end up inviting everyone they know over to our room. I think they get sick of spending most of our time in the middle of nowhere, he said. Listen, get a drink, Blake said, pulling his head away from mine and including Madison in the conversation. I’ll be back in a few minutes, ok?
I tried not to look disappointed. Of course he wasn’t going to sit around and talk to us for the rest of the night. Whatever I had expected in his hotel room, this was no different from Madison bringing me to a party that I hadn’t been invited to. He had actual friends here -- he wasn’t going to babysit us. I shot Madison a wounded look and she smiled back at me reassuringly, but she looked uneasy too.
I tried not to stare at Blake as he walked away, through groups of people who jumped up to congratulate him or say hello.
Come on, Madison
Sophie led the way into the hotel, and I followed with my bulky overnight bag, feeling it hit awkwardly against the back of my knees as I walked into the lobby. Part of me still couldn’t believe that no one was stopping us, realizing instantly like the publicist from the concert that we didn’t belong here, not a bit.
I felt the strap of my bag lifted off my shoulder, and when I looked to my side, Blake was holding the bag for me, a half-smile flickering across his face.
It looked heavy, he said, shrugging his shoulders.
The hotel was loud and crowded, a dimly lit bar at one side of the lobby playing music that I didn’t recognize. Colored lights illuminated rows of liquor bottles, each varying degrees of empty. Waif-like bartenders with long hair and choppy bangs stood in front of them, pouring bright cocktails into frosted glasses. As we passed the lobby, a woman sat in an oversized armchair talking to a man, her giant Saint Bernard lounging on the floor next to them.
The elevator was silent as we stepped inside, relieved that it was empty. Blake slipped his keycard into a slot and hit the button for the top floor, and I leaned back against the mirrored wall, feeling the elevator rise smoothly and quickly.
The digital panel registered the top floor and the doors opened, leading us into a small hallway decorated with black and white photographs. There were only two doors, one at either end of the foyer, and Blake slipped his keycard into one of them and clicked open the door.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe I was thinking it would be a few people, sitting around on couches, like one of Matt Andrews parties. Maybe, if I was being totally honest, I was harboring a faint hope that Blake was trying to seduce me, and we’d walk into a room with soft music and flower petals. Maybe I just expected it to be empty.
I didn’t expect it to look like the lobby downstairs. The lights were almost off and music was blasting, loudly enough that I wondered how the people in the rooms below felt about it. Several dozen people were gathered around the room, and what I assumed was a coffee table was pushed to one side of the space, covered in liquor bottles and juice. A bucket of ice sat collecting condensation in the table’s center.
I couldn’t keep the confusion off my face, and I could tell that Blake noticed it. Leaning his head close to mine, he whispered into my ear, Now you see why we went to the bookstore.
I froze, feeling my hands start to shake at the distance between my body and his. He could just kiss me now, I thought, wishing for it as if it was something I could control. I barely managed to nod, feeling my mouth curl into a smile.
Who are all these people? I whispered, trying not to sound too surprised.
I don’t even know most of them, he said, using normal volume again and straightening up. I exhaled, quelling my disappointment for a moment. Whenever we’re in a big city, April and Jesse end up inviting everyone they know over to our room. I think they get sick of spending most of our time in the middle of nowhere, he said. Listen, get a drink, Blake said, pulling his head away from mine and including Madison in the conversation. I’ll be back in a few minutes, ok?
I tried not to look disappointed. Of course he wasn’t going to sit around and talk to us for the rest of the night. Whatever I had expected in his hotel room, this was no different from Madison bringing me to a party that I hadn’t been invited to. He had actual friends here -- he wasn’t going to babysit us. I shot Madison a wounded look and she smiled back at me reassuringly, but she looked uneasy too.
I tried not to stare at Blake as he walked away, through groups of people who jumped up to congratulate him or say hello.
Come on, Madison
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