Moab

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"Whores in this house, there's some whores in this house," I sang doing a fist pump dance while Mitchell opened our room door.

"Whores in this house, there's some whor-" My singing was abruptly cut off by Mitchell – who looked at me with irritation.

He just got the room door open when he looked at me over his shoulder and said, "You just asked a very stupid question about paying for a room by the hour and now you're singing about," He paused and looked around before continuing in a softer voice, "Whores."

"What will people around us think? This is a motel and the walls are very thin." He added.

Mitchell sure loved to keep up an image and the way he said the word motel, showed what a snob he was. He spoke of it as if it were degrading to be in one. Besides all of that, I wasn't singing to annoy him, that one line of the song which I heard in the car, was catchy and stuck in my head.

"Aw Mitchy," I cooed and trailed a finger down the side of his face, "All they're going to think is that you're my gigolo and I plan to get my money's worth tonight."

I winked at him and entered the motel room. Mitchell walked in after me and shut the door behind him while I took in the appearance of the room. It was nothing compared to any room we stayed in during the course of our trip.

The room had a very rustic feel to it, the entire area had wooden paneled walls, matched with wooden furniture, including the little coffee table, two chairs, one single closet, and even the headboard. The floors had a blue, faded carpet and the beddings weren't the crisp white I was used to, instead it was caramel-colored with a tribal pattern on them. There wasn't an air-conditioner either, it instead had a ceiling fan hanging directly above the center of the bed.

The room was relatively small but cozy, it smelt of rain and wood polish. Mitchell walked past me and tossed the keys on the little coffee table, making his way to the bathroom.

I dropped my backpack onto the foot of the bed before looking around for any paintings on the wall and spotted three. I walked in the direction of the first one and lifted it slightly, peeking behind the wall checking for any holes. I was glad that there was none.

I headed towards the next one and did the same, I looked for any sort of peepholes or weird things which would give someone access to seeing into the room from elsewhere.

"What are you doing?" I heard Mitchell ask.

I turned to see him wiping his hair with a towel and looking a little less drenched. He looked at me curiously and after putting the painting back in its place, I headed towards the last one.

"Looking for peepholes in the wall." I answered him.

"I'm most likely going to regret asking, but why?" He questioned.

I looked underneath the last one and was content that there were no signs of spyholes in the wall.

"I once saw a movie where a young guy owned a motel off the side of the road and he would leave spyholes in the walls behind paintings and watch people get busy and then he'd get off on that." I answered casually.

Mitchell opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again.

"I knew I shouldn't have asked." He mumbled to himself.

I turned around and said in a low tone, "And then when he was done, he would sneak in at night and kill the guests."

Mitchell simply rolled his eyes and shook his head in response. I guess he figured it was a safer bet if he reserved his comments.

Once satisfied with my search, I made my way to the bed and glanced at the flat-screen TV directly opposite me and noticed a microwave and kettle sitting directly below it on the wooden plasma stand. I reached for the remote which sat on the bedside pedestal and turned on the television.

Mitchell was seated next to me; his one leg was on the ground and the other was tucked underneath his thigh. He was scrolling through his phone and I tried to peek at what he was doing but when he noticed he pulled it away.

I shrugged and began surfing through the channels, trying to find one specific channel.

Mitchell paused what he was doing and looked at me, annoyed.

"What are you trying to do?" He asked.

With my eyes fixated on the screen in front of me, I answered, "Trying to see if there really is porn on these motel televisions."

Mitchell sighed, "Which movie did you see that in?"

"Many." I answered.

Mitchell was obviously annoyed with my vigorous channel surfing because he grabbed the remote from me and switched off the TV.

I looked at him accusingly, "Hey, why'd you do that?"

"Because it's annoying." He stated.

"Yeah, well you're annoying." I retorted.

He gave me a look, "Are you saying this?"

"I have cute quirks and if you can't handle it, it's your problem." I defended myself.

Mitchell ignored what I said and went back to his phone, he seemed to be texting quite fast. His fingers moved at a speed and from the looks of it, he was typing out long essays. I idly wondered whom he was arguing with because I only ever texted at that speed when I was mad at someone.

"Why don't you go get dried up, you'll catch a cold." Mitchell said to me while his eyes were still on his phone screen.

I noticed during the trip that Mitchell had a caring, sincere side. He would always ask if I'm alright and always accompanied me when I insisted on going out alone. I sort of admired that about him, it showed he had a lot more character underneath his usual arrogant demeanor.

"Nah," I replied and smirked at him, "I like being wet."

He lifted his gaze from his phone, "Do you ever quit?"

I scooted closer to him and tucked my legs under my butt. I wriggled my eyebrows twice at him.

"Don't act as if you aren't interested," I told him, "Last night you were telling a completely different story."

"What did it go like?" I mused, "Oh yeah, something like seven positions in seventy minutes."

"I was drunk." Was his flat response.

"I heard from a very reliable source that a drunk Mitchell is the most honest Mitchell." I hit back.

He didn't say anything for a long moment but just looked at me. His gaze left mine and dropped to my lips before it met my eyes once more.

"I'm starting to think if all this teasing is just that or if you actually want me." He said and I could see the amusement in his eyes.

I didn't respond with words but just looked at him with my smirk not leaving. At that moment, I wondered what was going on in his mind. Did he really think I wanted him? Or did he want me and was using me to get what he wanted? Whatever it was, it was fun to mess with his mind.

With my gaze still on his, I slowly rolled my bottom lips into my mouth and bit onto it, he noticed because once again his eyes dropped to my lips.

"Mila," He began in a whisper, "I think your backpack is buzzing."

I was confused for a second before I realized what he meant and turned my head in the direction of the backpack which was sitting at the foot of the bed. He was right, it was buzzing, and it hit me that my phone was in it.

I reached for the bag, unzipped it, and grabbed my phone. I looked at the name on the screen and froze. I looked up at Mitchell with wide eyes and showed him the name flashing on the screen.

"It's Faith." I told him.

"Answer it." He stated, "But, do not tell her we're together or heading to Vegas, or they'll speed up their wedding plans."

Did Mitchell take me for an idiot? Of course, I knew not to do that, it would defeat our purpose of this road trip.

"And try to get as much information as you can about their whereabouts." Mitchell added.

'I think he does take me for an idiot.' I thought to myself just before I slid my finger across the screen and placed the phone at my ears.

Before I could even say hello, Faith began singing, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday my dear Mila, happy birthday to you."

I couldn't stop the small grin on my face hearing that and because hearing her voice after almost an entire week felt good.

"Happy birthday Mils!" She cheered, "I hope you're having the most smashing day ever!"

"I want to say thank you, but I have about a hundred other things to say to you right now." I responded, "First one being which deserted island have you sent your brain on vacation to?"

She groaned, "This is why I haven't been answering your calls or messages. I did not want the lecture."

I sighed, "What the hell were you thinking, Fay?"

"I'm in love Mila, why can't you just be happy for me?" Faith replied.

"I am happy for you, but I am not happy about you losing all common sense." I said, "I mean marriage Fay? I get that you feel greatly for Owen but what's the need to get legally bound to him so soon? I mean that makes you seem pretty psycho if you ask me."

"It's called marriage Mila and it was Owen's idea more than mine." She replied and I could virtually see her rolling her eyes at me.

"Alright so Owen is the dumbass who came up with the idea, why would you agree?" I asked her, "You have your whole life ahead of you Fay, you haven't even graduated med school yet. Wasn't that always the plan?"

Faith sighed, "Plans change, life changes and things happen which you would never expect."

I looked up at Mitchell who was ardently listening in on the conversation.

"Last week I would've said you were insane to think that way but now," I paused, "Now, I can understand what you mean by that."

"Whoa, I did not expect that response from you." Faith said.

"Yeah and I never expected you to run away to get married in Vegas," I said, "I mean didn't you always want the white wedding dream?"

"Yeah," Faith drawled, "But my family can be crazy, and Owen said his family would make the wedding more about them than about what we wanted. We just wanted to avoid all the drama and stress and just do what makes us happy. At the end of the day, we want to be husband and wife - the way it happens doesn't matter."

I had to admit she sounded happy, there weren't many sounds in the background which meant that she was probably in a hotel room or worse – what if she was in the chapel? I had to stop the lecture and find out.

"And are you that?" I asked her, "Husband and wife?"

"No not yet, but we will be tomorrow evening. I picked up a dress today and it's simple but beautiful." She excitedly said.

I looked up at Mitchell's curious, questioning gaze and shook my head. He let out a sigh of relief and rested his previously tense shoulders.

I took in a deep breath and knew I had to play my cards right or she'd hang up and we wouldn't be able to find out where they were planning to get married.

"Are you happy Faith?" I asked her softly.

"So much Mila, and I owe it to you!" She exclaimed, "Going to that frat party was the best thing we ever did."

The frat party – it seemed like such a long time ago. I looked at Mitchell once again and held back my laugh.

"Yeah, not everyone would agree with that." I murmured.

"Are you and Mitch still not seeing eye to eye?" Faith asked.

I wondered what made her ask that. She couldn't possibly know that Mitchell and I were together.

"We will never see eye to eye," I told her, "But why bring up that diablos name and ruin my mood?"

Mitchell showed me the finger when he caught onto that I was referring to him, in response, I made a kissy face at him.

"Well when we get back next semester, I hope you two would get along better, it would make mine and Owen's marriage easier." Owen mused.

I scrunched my face at the word marriage, it felt so odd to hear Faith talk about hers. To me, she was just Faith, the simple, studious, sweet, innocent girl I've known for almost seven years now.

"That sounds so gross," I told her, "And not just the part about me being getting along with Mitchell."

"Alright leave all of that and tell me how are celebrating turning twenty-two?" Faith asked.

"Oh, you know me, I don't really celebrate my birthday but who knows," I smirked up at Mitchell and said with a wink, "I might get some birthday fun tonight."

Faith chuckled, "Oh yeah, with who?"

"With someone who claims to get filthy when they want to." I answered her, with my eyes still on Mitchell.

Mitchell gave me a look and shook his head.

"Mila, just be good and I hope we can celebrate your birthday together soon." Faith said and I knew she was going to end the call soon.

"Maybe we can." I blurted.

Mitchell's gaze shot up at me with a quizzical expression.

"Look, I don't agree with your plan but if you're happy and this is really what you want then I will support you," I began, "Meaning if you want, I can fly out tomorrow morning to Vegas from New York and meet you at the chapel. Every girl needs a maid of honor, right?"

There was a brief silence and I got a little nervous. Faith was smart and I was hoping she didn't catch on to my bluff.

"You'd really do that for me?" Faith asked and I knew then that she called my bluff, her overly emotional tone told me so.

"Of course, Fay," I answered, "What else are roommates for?"

"Best friends Mila, I am your best friend whether you accept it or not." Faith stated.

I ignored her last statement and instead said, "So, what say? Do you want me at your wedding?"

"Of course, I do." I could practically hear the smile in her voice.

"Great, I'll start looking for flights straight away. Text me where to meet you and I'll be there." I told her.

"Oh my God Mila, you have no idea how happy my heart is right now." Faith said and I felt bad for lying to her because she truly sounded so happy, but she wasn't thinking straight, and I needed her to see that.

"I'll see you tomorrow, roomie." I told her with a small smile.

"I cannot wait!" Faith exclaimed.

"Me neither." I said and the guilt of lying to her was building in the pit of my stomach. I had to convince myself that this was for Faith's best interest.

She was about to hang up, but I quickly added, "Oh one more thing, please don't invite Bitchell, I do not want to see his ass-wipe face."

I looked at Mitchell and this time in response he lifted both his hands, showing me both his middle fingers. I replied with kissy faces again, only this time I shook my head from left to tight to make it look like French kissy faces.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Owen doesn't want him here either. He said Mitchell would do everything he possibly could to stop us from getting married." Faith said.

'That I know Faith, I mean the guy took me on a road trip with him just to stop you guys from getting married. That says a lot because he hates me.' I mentally said to myself.

"That is like music to my ears," I told her, "I'll see you tomorrow Fay. You two behave until the wedding night, alright?"

"And that's my cue to hang up. Enjoy the rest of your birthday Mils, see you soon." Faith said and hung up.

I dropped my phone onto the bed and looked triumphantly at Mitchell.

In return he looked at me bitterly, "You're a smooth liar Mila."

"Liar?" I repeated, "I had to hide the truth from her, or she and Owen would get married tonight itself. Faith said that Owen told her you would do anything to stop their wedding – they do not want you there."

"Whatever the reason, you didn't have to lie even after she agreed to text you where to meet her tomorrow." Mitchell retorted, if I wasn't mistaken his mood changed drastically. The guy really did hate lies, it made me wonder why.

"I needed to be convincing, as a future lawyer you should know that better than me." I defended myself.

"I do not plan to practice criminal law for that reason, I despise lies. I'll be more on the corporate side while I run my fathers' company. The law degree is just going to be a frame on the wall in my office." He said.

"Sometimes a white lie has to be told for the greater good – not all lies are bad." I said.

He looked at me, his eyes turned a shade darker showing that the topic was angering him.

"A lie is a lie." He said each word slowly.

I was about to retort but my phone buzzed, and it was a text from Faith, she sent me an address of the chapel she and Owen were to be married in the next evening.

I showed Mitchell the text and said, "For the greater good."

He glanced at the text then at me, he seemed to be less angry. Maybe his stupid brain finally understood my point.

Mitchell placed his phone in his pocket and stood up, he walked towards the window which was right next to the hotel door.

The rain could still be heard belting from outside, mixed with loud thunder and the whistling wind. The storm hadn't settled, and it seemed as if it would go on the whole night.

"If this storm doesn't slow down, we're going to be forced to stay in this rusty motel room." Mitchell mumbled sourly.

I checked the weather app on my phone, and it seemed I was right, there was no way the storm was going to end any time soon.

"Aw you hurt my feelings Mitchy." I teased.

He left the window and walked to the little bar fridge that was in the room.

"For once you aren't the biggest issue." He said opening the fridge door, "My father owns five-star hotels around the world and here I am stuck in this piece of crap motel. I mean they don't even have water in the damn fridge!" He slammed the fried door shut.

"And have you seen the bathroom? It has a shower and a bathtub in one and wait for the best part, there's no door but a freaking curtain! Never in my life have I ever bathed behind a curtain!" He added frustratingly.

I gasped and placed the back of my palm against my forehead, "Oh my, how tragic!"

I rolled my eyes at how dramatic he was being.

"You are such a snob," I remarked more seriously, "Be grateful you have shelter over your head in this storm, there are people far worse off."

He turned sharply to look at me and opened his mouth to retort, but I figured anything he wanted to say would sound extremely shallow, so he shut his mouth and grimaced at me instead.

"By the way, how far are we from reaching Vegas? Faith is getting married tomorrow around five-pm, so we better make it in time." I told him.

"We're currently in Moab, Utah so," He paused and seemed to be calculating something in his mind before he continued, "So we'll drive for another six hours or so tomorrow. Don't worry, we'll make it in time."

The clock ticked and hours passed but the storm never. The wind sounded to be heavier from the howling and whooshing which was heard from the window. We were so long at the motel that our clothes and hair had dried on its own.

Mitchell was once again in a foul mood, his moods fluctuated so much that I was confused if he was on his period, going through menopause or if he was pregnant. He mostly sat on his phone texting or going through his social media. When he was in a mood like that, he liked to be by himself and didn't want anyone to talk to him, so I let him be and found an animated movie to watch on TV.

I was glad I had my backpack filled with snacks to keep me company, I munched on Pringles and skittles while I watched the movie.

By the time it was almost nine-pm, the storm seemed to

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