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I’d never actually been to a comfortable motel, but this one was particularly backbreaking. However, it was cheap, and that was what mattered. I had washed up after a flight and a long ass bus ride in a town called Battle Mountain, with a tiny population. It didn’t matter though - they had a motel where I could sleep, and a casino where I’d recently acquired a job. I worked all the hours God sent, barely dipping into the money that I had left New York with. I’d been in Battle Mountain for a grand total of a week and a half, but I could already see myself living there for a while. No one knew me, and the locals were friendly, but didn’t ask questions. That was good. They didn’t need to know me, and I was hesitant to let myself get to know anyone in return. That only left room for more pain, and I was done with pain. I hadn’t heard from Julian, but I didn’t know what I’d expected.
I ditched my phone for a tracfone the moment I’d touched down, and I was in the middle of nowhere. Even if Julian wanted to get in touch, it would have been hard for him to do so. A big part of me hoped he was forgetting about me. A smaller, wicked part, hoped that he was hurting like I was, that he missed me like I missed him. I’d never wanted to be missed before, so it was surreal, feeling like I’d left something important behind. I had checked time and again though, and I had everything I needed to survive.
The motel was depressing to say the least. The wallpaper hadn’t been changed since the seventies, and had suspicious-looking stains all over it. The carpet was orange commercial carpeting that I didn’t dare walk on without shoes. The plumbing worked, but just barely. This motel was the kind of place people lived for months and years at a time, conducting shady deals and living from dime-to-dime. I had already learned the faces of a few of my neighbors, and I politely ignored them when they afforded me the same courtesy.
I couldn’t lie, I’d forgotten how lonely this life could be. I spoke to the girls I worked with, but I couldn’t see myself getting close enough to any of them to spend time outside of work with them.
I fell back into my old routines though, and let myself be so busy that I couldn’t think about the man that still appeared in my dreams.
I straightened up, feeling my joints pop. It was a little after eleven in the morning, and I groaned. I drank some water from the tap, and pulled on some lazy clothes—sweatpants and the t-shirt I’d left New York in. It was cold, so I pulled on a hoodie and the ratty winter coat I had carted from Utah, to New York, and now to Nevada. I left the room with my hood up. I fit right in with the people here.
I stopped in at a greasy spoon for a breakfast of toast and bitter coffee, strong enough to keep me going on only a few hours of sleep. I had to do some food shopping before work. I worked night shifts, and I liked it that way. It worked for me.
The grocery store was a tiny thing, only holding the basics, with one cashier that eyed me up as I strolled the aisles with a cart and a blank stare. I stopped in the pasta aisle, and stared at a box of arborio rice. That risotto had been so good. I had no way to make it now though, and I wouldn’t want to without Julian, so I grabbed a couple microwavable mac'n'cheese pots, and threw them in the cart. I also picked up bread, something that swore I wouldn’t believe it was margarine, and several packs of ramen. Not enough to break the bank, but enough to keep me going. I got the cheapest instant coffee they had, and decided that splurging on milk wasn’t worth the money. I took myself up to the register, and piled my weekly shopping on it. It looked sad like that, and I was suddenly struck with the intense desire for Andrew’s mint hot chocolate.
The cashier bagged my food up wordlessly, and I left with one plastic bag in a freezing hand. I stood in the parking lot for a moment, wondering if this would be my entire future. An errant thought wondered if I could save up enough to do an online college course. Maybe I could become a nurse here. I’d have to get a laptop though—in my rush, I’d left mine in New York. The sky was just as gray as it had been when I left the city, and I was suddenly struck with longing to walk the streets of New York again. Instead, I set off on the potholed road, thinking that I’d have an hour or so to kill and eat some lunch before starting work.
Back in my room, I stared out the one window I had while I ate ramen and drank watery coffee. I liked watching the people around me, even if they weren’t necessarily savory folks. Someone’s kids were kicking at the ice around the uncovered pool, laughing and trying to push each other in. They ran off, and I watched them disappear down the road. A car pulled into the lot, some shiny thing that I was sure belonged to some rich businessman. I didn’t want to see the young, potentially underage girl that would be with him, so I shut my blinds and flicked on the television. There wasn’t anything interesting on, so I lounged back and half-heartedly watched some hospital drama. I dropped ramen on my shirt and let out atsk. It left a stain behind, and I wiped at it angrily. I’d have to wash it, and my growing pile of dirty clothes suggested I’d need to find a laundromat soon.
There was a knock at the door. It wasn’t the first time. My neighbour was conducting dealings of some sort, and people always knocked on my door looking for him. I opened the door, words already in my mouth.
“Jace lives next—”
I was bowled over by a hug. A mass of black hair was in my face, the smell familiar and intoxicating.
“Hannah?” I gasped.
“I’m sorry,” she moaned, burying her head in my shoulder, “I’msorry.”
I wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, I wasn’t sure what she was saying at all.
Then she was gone, and someone else was hugging me, hunched over my frame to squeeze the life out of me.
“Julian?!” I cried.
I struggled out of his arms, and backed away. They stood there, in my doorway, looking completely out of place. This motel wasn’t somewhere they existed. It was the place dreams went to die, where I’d taken my dreams to die. On the off chance they had been able to track me to Nevada, I had taken the initiative and decided to take a bus to Salt Lake City, where I then got on one for Battle Mountain.
“How did you end up here?” Julian asked, stepping forward.
I couldn’t let him touch me though, so I stepped back. I saw Julian tense, I saw Hannah clench her fists, and I wondered what I’d done to offend her now, when they had tracked me to the middle of nowhere.
“You two need to leave,” I said, as firmly as I could manage.
I wasn’t doing this again. The last time someone had followed me, I thought I’d become a murderer. I wasn’t going through that again. Whatever cruel reason they had, they could take it with them and walk out the door.
“What?” Hannah said, “We’ve come to bring you home, Evvie…”
“No,” was my response, “it was made clear that I didn’t belong. If you two could leave, that would be great.”
It was too good to be true—literally. They wouldn’t just show up on my doorstep and bring me home. That kind of thing didn’t happen to girls like me. I had to stick to my resolve, or risk getting hurt again. The scared teenager I thought I’d left behind in Utah reared in me again, and I hardened myself against their words.
“I didn’t mean it, Ev,” Hannah pleaded, stepping forward. I stepped back. “I was hurt that you hadn’t told me, I was tired, and I had too many emotions at once. It’s not an excuse, and you don’t need to forgive me, but it’s the truth.”
Oh God, how I wanted to believe her. I curled my fingers around the phial around my neck, and felt the cool glass beneath my fingers. I couldn’t be hurt again. My mother wanted me to have adventures, and I would have them, if only my past would stop chasing me.
“Evelyn, please come home,” Julian said.
He stayed in the doorway, clearly understanding my need for space, but his eyes were pleading with me. I shook my head.
