Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

A good night.

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
Your room is 108. First door in the hallway to the left ma'am" said the hotel clerk with too much enthusiasm. He was wearing a stupid little red vest and a stupid little red fez to go along with it. He looked like a monkey that was about to dance. Before I can think of a proper response I just say "cool" and walk off like that's exactly what I planned on saying, I was too busy imagining him sitting on someone's shoulder with cymbals. I had just made my way into New Orleans today and I thought this was the most unique building to stay at. I would only be here one night, so the price didn't matter. I get to the door and fumble with the door because I'm already holding my suitcase and my makeup bag. After at least a minute of worrying with it I finally manage to open the thick off-white door. It opens with a pleasant squeak. While throwing my stuff on the bed I survey the room one good time. There is no tv, just a big old Victorian looking mirror. Dark wood carved out for the sides. With little patterns that I couldn't make out. Since I had been riding the bus for 18 hours before getting here I decide that the sheets are much less important than sleep, so I toss myself on the bed like a child would and wait for sleep to overcome me. It didn't take long, I was probably asleep mid-air.
The sun doesn't bother me. But I'm awake. Somehow completely twisted around on the bed. I notice I didn't even bother turning off the lights either. Everything in the room was either dark brown wood or a mixture of burgundy and gold. Including the walls, they were a rich dark red with gold trim near the ceiling. I force myself out of bed, stiff as a board, and jump into the shower, awkwardly sliding my clothes off on the way there. I don't bother doing anything with the clothes, I just let them fall to the floor. The bathroom is all shiny metal and white, almost obnoxiously so. After using at least three tiny bottles of hotel shampoo I reckon that I'm done for now. I grab a towel neatly folded on the toilet. It's barely big enough to cover me from neck to waist, and its only about as wide as three hands side by side. I get dressed hastily, wearing baggy shirts so as not to give attention to my chest. I've never been to New Orleans before. And seeing as how I slept until 5 p.m. I decided to do a little exploring. Maybe even find something to eat. Walking across the street I nearly trip on a box filled with change, but no one is around to claim it. There seems to be little traffic aside from pedestrians. I spot a nice little bar directly beside the bus stop that I hadn't noticed earlier. The bright neon glare was a strange purple, the sign read "Spirits of Nawlins". Since I'm going to go check the times of the buses anyways I might as well stop by to check it out. Once again crossing the street, I feel no need to check for cars anymore. The cobblestone streets and imposing little buildings are beautiful. I've never seen such a pretty place. And the metalwork on everything is exquisite. I didn't even notice crossing the street, my eyes were up the whole time looking at the windows and doors on the second floor. I wondered if anyone was up there. The little blue sign beside the bus stop bench had a hand written note on it saying "ain't comin' till tomara". Apparently this was either a small dyslexic child or, god forbid, an idiot adult. At least nothing is stopping me from checking out that bar. And I have plenty of time. I guess I'll be staying one more night as well. I push open the dirty little wooden door. It has no window, actually, the bar itself doesn't have windows. It seems to me like it could get awfully uncomfortable like that. The inside of the bar is exactly as I had imagined it. To the right, a classic little fold around L shared bar, and to the left there is an old-timey juke box surrounded by two huge circular tables. In the far left corner there was one pool table. There's a light over the tables, but there's only one tiny light over the bar. Just dim enough to see what you want, and just dim enough to not see what you don't want. The place isn't packed, two men on bar stools talking to the bartender, and a 2 on 2 match of guys vs girls pool. No one pays me any attention thankfully. I decide to sit at the bar away from everyone. The men at the bar look like generic bikers, and the bar tender is an old black man with nappy grey hair and the thickest pair of glasses I had ever seen in my life. He was dressed like he was in a saloon, ready to force some cowboys out with a shotgun. He even had a neat little gold chain leaking out of his vest down to his pocket. He walks over to me and says in a nearly melodic way "Something you'd like to sip own misses? I've got a little bit of this, a lot of that, and ain't none of it as old as me" "Just a water, I'll wait for the sun to go down to get anything heavier" I say. "Well you's like most a' us then" he said with a grin and a chuckle. I just nod and grab the water when hands it to me. There's no tv, but there is a little pamphlet chained to the bar I didn't notice. I pull it over, and realize that it's a book of stories. It has dates and names, and then funny little stories about the people that came in. Without realizing it I read through the whole thing. Startled at how long I had sat there reading I decide to check my phone for the time. The iPhone said 7:22. I think I was here by about 6. So I spent quite some time entranced by stories of hilarious one night stands and naughty jokes. Looking around I see that everyone is gone but the bartender and one lone guy playing pool by himself. "Hey, I think I'll have a beer" I said in a questioning tone. My long blonde hair is just flowing down my shoulder, I didn't bother to fix it up. Silently he hands me a beer, as he does the door opens, but no light shines in. The bartender looks at me, both of us are holding the bottle, and he's just staring at me like I just kicked his kitten. He finally releases my alcohol and scurries off through the door to what I guess is the kitchen. I look behind me and see a man. It's too dark to make anything out but as I continue looking he walks under the light on the way to the bar. He's a tall, extremely handsome man. With dark hair and olive skin, his eyes look like he just woke up, but they look beautiful. They're a brown so dark I feel like they might be black. He has dark circles under his eyes. His short hair was brushed over like he was ready for an event, and he was dressed even better. He had on black slacks with black shoes and a black vest over his bright red shirt. He has thin sideburns as black as his hair. He must have noticed me staring, because he glanced at me with a expressionless face. I thought I could feel a smile. Or maybe I could see it in his eyes. I tried to look away but I felt like I couldn't. He sat down beside me, it was like he floated to the stool. The movements he made weren't awkward at all, they were almost graceful. "The stools are so close together, I can move mine over if you want me too". He raised one eyebrow like he was about to ask a question, but then he smiled, but only with the corners of his mouth and with his eyes, nothing else moved. "If I wanted to be away from you then I wouldn't have sat here". A bit of air came out of me, half chuckle, half pleasant sigh. I was speechless. I haven't had a guy willingly talk to me like that in my life. I was always the outsider. I mostly read, and listened to music. I was never so social. I was even still a virgin at 25. "Thank you" I decided to say, unsure of exactly what I meant. I saw no sign of the bartender. "Oh, it wasn't a compliment, it was a statement. Simply an observation you failed to notice" he still had a smile. I think. I don't know. He opened his mouth again "Although I do love your hair. It flows over your neck gracefully" he looked in my eyes and then looked at the bar. I saw that he had a drink in his hand. A small half glass of something. Whiskey would be my guess. I had no idea how it got there. "Where did you get that drink?" I decided to ask, not sure of how to respond to the previous compliment. "I get the same thing every night, Jim knows when to lay it out for me" he continued looking ahead for that. Like he was busy. "Oh" I decide to look ahead as well. I didn't know where to look. "Where will you be staying the night?" He glanced at me the same way you'd look at a stranger when you cross paths in a hallway. "What? I'm sorry, I'm not ready for anything like that" I say with haste "I'm afraid you're confused, although the sudden rejection does wound me, I asked because you're wearing a shirt that says Washington state on it and I haven't seen you around here before. I was wondering if you were staying at the place down the street. It's the closest hotel"
"Oh, I'm so sorry (I was blushing like a tomato and smiling like a Cheshire Cat) well yes actually I am, I'm sorry, I was a little confused. I thought you wanted to take me to bed" "Well of course I do, but I'm not nearly so bold as to say it in that way" he said that with the most understanding expression. I felt like I was sinking for a moment, then my fingertips tingled. "Oh". I had a dumbfounded expression, and I was clueless as to what the response should be. I liked this man but I wanted a long romantic relationship, not a one night stand. "In case you were wondering, I'm not going to corner you into a decision. You do what you feel comfortable doing. Call me later if you'd like. I'll see you again" he brushed my hair from away from face like it was a casual thing to do and gave me a card with his number. Then as he leaned forward he stood up, and walked out the door. What am I supposed to do? Maybe he would be okay if we just talked. He seemed understanding enough. I left 10 dollars on the table and went back to my room. There was a homeless man that looked asleep next to the curb. He had a tipped beer bottle and it looked like it had spilled all the way down into the street. The beer was dark and thick. Back in my room I sit down on the bed and just thought. I'm pretty sure an hour passed. Then finally I pick up the phone and dial the number. "Hello, I knew you'd call. I'll be there soon. And don't worry, we can just talk" "yes" I said accidentally. He hung up. And within 30 seconds I hear a knock on the door. He's wearing the same thing. "Hey, we can sit on the bed and talk if you'd like" He took a second to look at the mirror and then sat facing it, slightly tilted to the side. I sat down beside him facing the opposite wall the same way. "I'm not just looking for a one might stand you know, I'm looking for love" I felt like a giddy little girl. "So wh" he cut me off by touching my forearm. I got goosebumps everywhere and felt a chill like I opened a freezer. "You are surely the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on." I just looked at his eyes. I didn't know if I was looking for sincerity or a soul. Both seemed to be there, blazing. "And you don't understand how many women I've seen. I've seen lifetimes full of them" once again he brushed my hair away, but this time when he leaned in he placed his lips on my neck just under my jaw. All I could do was gasp. He wasn't even kissing my neck now. Just breathing right below my ear. He pulled back his head and looked at me. I felt the room spin, and I couldn't do anything but breath and nod. He kissed my neck again. His hands went to my hips as he pushed my head gently down onto the pillow with his lips. I just sat there. Still. I noticed my hips were moving up and down on my own, but I didn't know why. It was a soft rocking motion. I heard an ambulance right outside but ignored it. The room spun faster. My exhales became deeper and deeper and turned into moans. Finally I couldn't take it any longer, I sat myself up a little, and saw myself in the mirror. I was just wearing a plain white t shirt, it didn't say anything. And I couldn't see the man in the reflection. I felt a small sting by my neck. It was the most wonderful feeling ever. My hips were still rocking. My eyes got heavy quickly, and he pulled his head back to look at me. I noticed my shirt felt wet, but all I could see was his face. I drifted off to sleep as slowly and gently as anyone ever had. I never knew love was so nice.



Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback