One night stand

CHAPTER THREE

Kayla's POV

“Can you just tell me everything you remember seeing last night?” I told her. “About me and the guy? How he was? What time he left this morning?”

Her brows creased into a frown as she failed to have eye contact with me, making it an obvious fact that she'd started to think I was a disturbance to whatever she was doing, but I didn't really care.

I've never cared whatever anyone thought whenever I was in desperate need for answers. It was a default setting in me, most people have complained about.

“I can't really tell you the answer to everything you're asking, but I'll tell you this, you were all over him last night,” she said. “And you were all slurry with your words whenever you spoke. Like you were drunk. And…,”

“And?” A flood of embarrassment was starting to wash me up, but I was still eager to know whatever stupid thing I'd done in the absence of sanity before the eyes of this lady behind the counter.

“You two seemed like a couple,” she said. My brows raised in surprise while I mentally gave myself a series of slaps.

Just how drunk was I last night?

“Are you both not a couple?” she asked and my brows raised.

“We — are! We definitely are!” I lied, nodding.

Truth is, even though I didn't owe this lady any answer to that question, I didn't want to give her the perception that I was a whore (which I am definitely not).

She just nodded in response.

She obviously wasn't the nice type.

“Errm…okay, so, thanks,” I said and she nodded in response, her brows never lowering down to normal.

“But uhm…we're in Quebec, right?” I asked.

Even though it was a practically stupid question, I still needed an answer.

To deconfirm this rising thought Mel had put in me; that I was kidnapped.

And confirm that I was really in Quebec, because I didn't have a visa at all to my name to travel anywhere in the world.

“Yeah,” she bobbed her head, giving me that look that made it look like I was high on drugs.

“Oh…uh, right. I just wasn't familiar with the name of this hotel so I needed to confirm that I didn't travel overseas overnight,” I told her with an awkward chuckle.

I turned away from her, not waiting for a reply, but as soon as I did that, Ms. Dark hair with the blue highlights came sprinting into the hotel's lobby the glass door like as if she was late for some event no one knew of.

That Ms. Dark hair was Mel. My gothic best friend.

How was she able to locate me?

“Kayla! Oh thank goodness!” she exhaled as she bounced her way to me. Her dressing was how it'd always been; Gothic Lolita.

“Your mom almost had a heart attack trying to reach you to no avail, you dumbass!” She ticked as she got to me, and made to launch a hand attack at me, which I retreated from as she suspended her hand halfway (she wasn't really going to hit me, just a move that made it seem like she wanted to).

“How did you find me, Mel?” I asked.

“Doesn't matter. Now what are you doing here!? This place is like…blocks away from Fred's house!”

Her extra loud voice was created unwarranted attention from the few people there in the lobby, and it got under my skin.

I never liked attention, and I still did not, especially attention from this kinda stuff.

“Let's go get my stuff first, then I'll tell you why I'm here,” I told her.

After getting my stuff (literally my purse and phone), we went down to her car in the outside parking lot.

“So…? Tell me what's up Kayla, so I don't jump to conclusions with my mind on why you were in a hotel,” Mel said the moment we're in her car and was ready to drive out into the road.

“It's quite complicated,” I muttered, twiddling my fingers on my laps.

So complicated I'm ashamed to say it.

“Hello!” her fingers drummed a somewhat rhythmic tune on the steering wheel. “I'm the queen of complications so hit me with whatever it is,” she said.

I recalled when she'd told me those words — “I'm the queen of complications” for the first time, when we'd first met. She'd ruined a neighbour's car hood of the basis that it was too shiny and reflected way too much sunlight, and her family had almost gotten sued for the act. They had narrowly gotten out of the lawsuit matter and she had been all “I'm the queen of complications, and I get away with each and every one of them,”. I'm sure she didn't fully know the meaning of that word then because we were still kids and she barely studied any word to understand it.

Although she did now.

“Don't tell me it's what I'm thinking, Kayla. Did you –”

“Don't. Mention. It.” I interrupted her before she could continue with what I knew she'd wanted to say.

“Oh my Gawd, Kay, you did it?” she gazed wide-eyed at me. Nervousness started to seep inside me, and I couldn't deny or accept the fact to her question. Instead, I lowered my gaze to the hands I fiddled on my laps, wishing we'd get home sooner so I'd escape telling her anything and have a shower.

“Kay! For f**k's sake, give me an —”

An ear deafening horn blared to our alarm, and Mel swerved the car in another direction from where the incoming truck was, avoiding the near accident, but putting both our bodies in a frenzy.