"So Cheyenne, I heard some of your story from the gas station, but do you mind telling me the rest of it?" Max asked after about fifteen minutes of driving. I moved my gaze from the side window and looked at him.
"Well if you've heard some of it, you've pretty much heard the full thing. My mom was not the best after my dad left. Though I can't exactly blame hate him for that, she was a mess. Of course she makes him off to be the good for nothing asshole who 'never did anything for her' now and apparently after she learned she was pregnant he bailed. Still couldn't blame him for it. I tried to ask people who knew them what happened but they all had different stories.
"Anyway, my mom got drunk a lot, smoked, probably sold drugs to the local stoners, hell she probably did them herself. I wouldn't be surprised. Even if I worked from the morning until the night I would come home to a laundry list of shit to do and go buy since my mom would have been passed out by then." Max took his eyes off of the road and gave me a slightly sympathetic look. I was used to that look. People at the diner who knew of my mom would always look at me like that.
"I'm guessing today was the final straw?" He asked, returning his eyes to the road as I slumped back into the passenger seat, averting my eyes back to the passing fields.
"I had to work a late shift and she didn't remember me telling her so she thought I was out with some man. She actually thought I would whore myself out to men for money." I shook my head and sighed. "I came home to her in a drunken fit and throwing my things out of the window. She told me to leave so I did. I'm sure she's going to have a field day in the morning when she realizes I never came back. At the same time she probably won't care." Max started mumbling under his breath and slightly shook his head.
"She doesn't seem like the ideal mother." He stated, hands gripping the wheel so hard veins were popping out. "What's the point of having a child only to never love them." It sounded more like a rhetorical question so I never answered.
We drove for about an hour before Max pulled into a hotel parking lot. I tensed up, a hotel with a stranger. What a night this will be. I started thinking of defensive moves in case I need to fight for my life. "I'll be right back." Max said as he opened the car door and stepped out and entered the lobby.
"Fuck." I muttered to myself. "Why the hell did I go with this guy? He probably going to rape me. Good going Cheyenne, you idiot." I might get be able to make a run for it, but exercise was never my strong suit and I almost failed gym because of it, so I probably wouldn't get far. While I argued with myself, Max had already returned and held a hotel room key in my face.
"Here, I got us separate rooms. I figured you wouldn't want to share a room with a man you just met."
"Thanks." I said as I hesitantly took it and stepped out of the car, keeping distance between Max and I.
It seemed to get even colder outside which seemed impossible at the time but now seemed very much possible. I followed Max into the lobby and relished in the heat that being blown. It was a rather nice hotel, even the receptionist gave a smile and a "good evening". We went up a flight of stairs and he halted at one of the rooms.
"This is your room, if you need anything I'll be across the hall. Sleep well." He left to his own room as I put the key in the lock and shook it a bit. The door unlocked and I walked inside. The room itself was rather nice, a yellow striped chair in the corner, a double bed with a gray and white bedspread with white pillows placed in the center with two light brown wooden nightstands on either side and a lamp with the same print lampshade that the chair had. There was a bathroom next to the entrance that held a shower, toilet and sink. What else would be in a bathroom?
First things first I grabbed the chair and drug it across the room and against the door. I felt bad if there was someone in the room underneath mine but I would rather be safe than sorry. "Just some precautionary measures." I said to myself. I was quick to face planted on the bed which was softer than I was ever used to. I started replaying the events of the past few hours, I got into a fight with my mom, left with a man to, hopefully, Santa Carla, officially ran away. My eyelids fell before I knew it and I fell asleep to a room that didn't smell like cigarette smoke and beer.
Waking up was easy when I realized I don't have work or a mom to make happy. Wait, I did have Max. I looked at the clock on the nightstand and it read 2:37 PM on it. Fuck, Max is probably already up. I tried to smooth out any creases in my clothes that my sleep self had created and drug the chair back to it's rightful place in the corner and grabbed the room key from the nightstand. I opened the door and left towards the lobby, thinking Max might be down there, maybe having a chat with the receptionist. The lady from last night was gone and in her place was a man maybe in his early thirties. He had a fake smile and a bit of premature graying hair in the front. Max was nowhere to be seen. "Is there anything I can help you with?" The man asked, his voice breaking the silence of the room.
"Um has a man, mid-forties, glasses, brown hair, come through here?" He looked like he thought about it for a second, which he probably didn't.
"Not that I know of. Why? You lost?" He asked with a slight mocking tone.
"No I am very much not lost, thank you." I replied and turned on my heels and left back to my room. There was note at my door that I hadn't noticed before. It read 'I forgot to tell you, I normally drive at night, less people on the road. - Max' Oh, so that's why he's not up. I should probably look at things more. Somehow I managed to pass the time till sunset and Max knocked on the door.
"Sorry about the wait." He said, fixing his jacket. I shook my head and closed the door behind me as we headed out to the lobby to return our keys.
"Don't worry about it. I understand the whole driving with less traffic thing relatable. I used to prefer it myself." I stated. When I had a car, that was. Mom decided she needed drinking money and sold it to the first buyer. I almost killed her then myself if it weren't her going out that night.
"I see you found him." The receptionist winked at me I grimaced, Max gave me a confused look and I shook my head, telling him not to worry about it. We left to the car and he opened my door for me. I gave a brief thanks as I sat and buckled myself in. He started the car and drove out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
"So what about you?" I asked, looking at the driving man.
"What about me?" He asked. "What's your story? Who are you? What's in Santa Carla for you?" I questioned.
"I live there, I was over in Montana for a reunion with a few friends of mine. I run a movie store on the boardwalk. I have four adopted sons who are rather large rebels and annoy me to no end. I've been divorced for...seven years?" He said. "I'm honestly not that interesting of a person."
I laughed. "Everyone has something interesting about them. You are harboring a runaway." He chuckled at that statement.
"What are you planning on doing once we arrive?" Max asked and I shrugged.
"I don't know. Find a job, place to stay." I answered. He didn't say anything for a short while.
"Well since you'll need a job, the video store is looking for a hand. I'm sure Maria wouldn't mind you working with her."
"Maria?"
"She's a coworker of mine, she's a great worker and probably wouldn't mind training." I smiled.
"Really? You would do that?" I asked. Max was way to nice to someone he just met.
"Anything to help. Also, if you wouldn't mind, I have a spare room in my house. Since the boys don't live with me, it could be yours." I laughed and shook my head
"I wouldn't want to be a burden. You're already doing so much for me just by taking me with you." He shook his head.
"I've always wanted a daughter, somehow I've only ended up with boys."
"So should I start calling you dad?" I joked.
"If you would like." He responded with a smile of his own.