by Nelson, Cara
“Did you bring something warmer to wear?”
“I have jeans, but no sweatshirt. It was so nice when we left.”
“And it’s still nice in LA, just not so much here,” I replied. “Let’s stop and get you a sweatshirt or something.”
“A sweatshirt?”
“Well, there’s no designer mall up here. Either freeze or wear a sweatshirt,” I said. “I think you’ll look great either way.”
“That’s because you want to get in my pants,” Trinity said, laughing.
“No, it’s because you’re beautiful,” I replied.
An awkward silence followed, and I pulled into a gift shop outside of the ski resorts in the area. We went in, and the only thing they had in a size that would fit Trinity was a blue sweatshirt with light blue written words that spelled out California on it. “Maybe you should get one too, and we can have an ugly sweatshirt party,” Trinity offered.
“No,” I said, and laughed.
She started to pull out her wallet to pay for it, and I stopped her, saying it was my treat. However, she was stubborn about it, so I let her. It was so hard to figure things like that out. I never thought about paying for things because I had the money, and well, shit, even if I spent liberally, I still had a lot left over. Money was funny that way. The more you made, the more people wanted to give you things for free.
“Watch out for the storm coming in,” the old guy said after Trinity paid him.
“Storm?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s that time of year. A cold front is in the mountains, and we’ll be getting a good seven inches, they predict.”
“When is that starting?” Trinity asked.
The guy looked at us, and I could tell he was thinking that we were amateurs. Well, he was right. Then he looked outside, and replied, “I guess you could say it’s starting now.”
“Have a good one,” I said to him, and we walked out. “The restaurant is at least a half hour in the direction of LA so we can make some progress before we stop to eat.”
We started to make our way toward it, and quickly found out how fast weather can turn in the mountains. There was already a few inches of snow on the ground in just that short amount of time. My rear wheel drive car was not appreciative of it, either.
A small, trashy hotel was off in the distance, its neon lights blinking on and off, the E in the hotel burnt out. “Do you think we should just stay and head back early in the morning after the snowplows come through?”
“Probably not a bad idea. You definitely don’t have a car built for snow driving, and we definitely don’t have a kit in your trunk, I’m guessing,” Trinity said.
“A kit? What do you mean?”
“You’re definitely not a Midwesterner. You are always prepared for this type of thing, ideally, anyway.”
“I guess I’m in good hands with Girl Scout Trinity,” I said in a taunting voice.
“Let’s go see if they have a room before they’re all gone,” she said.
Luck would have it that they did. We walked into the room, which was a throwback from the 70s, brown plaid bedding, and crusty golden low shag carpeting. It was one of the ugliest things I’d ever seen. Not retro in a cool, funky way—just old.
“This place might give me nightmares,” Trinity said to me with a laugh. “Even the spare bedroom in my grandmother’s attic was better than this.”
“Well, it’s better than a car in the ditch for the night, I guess, Trin. Let’s get out of here. Go across the parking lot to that dive bar. They have to have some type of food.”
We walked out into the wet, heavy snow and trudged across the parking lot, walking through the door of the bar, and right up to an empty counter.
“Slow night,” I commented to Trinity.
“No one can claim you’re not astute,” she said back.
I looked at her, always thrown off by her blunt sassiness, and halfway wanted to tell her to relax for just a minute, or to kiss her. Maybe both.
“Hi, welcome,” the woman behind the bar said. “What can I get you two?”
“Food and beer. What type of food do you have?”
She slid a small menu over. It was a buffet of deep fried temptations, and then a frozen pizza section.
“Pizza for me,” Trinity said.
“Sounds good.”
“Sausage and pepperoni,” she added.
“That’s all? Kind of boring, isn’t it?” Hunter commented.
“Nothing about me is boring,” Trinity said.
“Well, maybe.” I agreed, but I started laughing and ordered that sausage and pepperoni pizza.
The beer and pizza was good enough, filling our appetite. Then we started shooting pool, and doing shots of Jägermeister. Needless to say, things got a bit more relaxed and crazy.
“Hey, aren’t you Hunter Martinez?” a younger girl asked. She came out of the back area of the bar, wearing an apron, and had her hair up in a bun.
“That’s me.”
“Wow, what are you doing up here?” she asked.
“Went bungee jumping, but the weather has left us stranded.”
“Can I please have an autograph?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said.
The girl looked at me, and then to Trinity. I could see she wanted to ask about it, but decided not to. She went into the back room and yelled, “Mom, that’s Hunter Martinez from ProVokaTiv. How come you didn’t tell me?”
I heard the mom yell back. “How the hell would I know who he was? I don’t listen to that new music.”
Trinity and I started laughing. “I cannot even imagine how many odd things you hear, Hunter.”
“And see, as evidenced by this,” I whispered to her. The girl came back out with lipstick on and her hair down, her apron removed. “If only they realized that I don’t care. Why feel the need to be more dressed up just because I have some notoriety?”
“Yeah, crazy, huh,” Trinity said. I knew she’d gotten the message because that’s the way she’d been up to this point with me, too. She didn’t have to be dressed to the nines to blow my mind, or any other part of me for that matter.
I gave the autograph, and we had a few more shots. Then the girl came over and asked if I could sing a song. I wasn’t so sure about that, but the Jägermeister and the mood made me decide to go for it. One song couldn’t hurt, might be fun.
There was no guitar or anything that I might normally have for such an occasion so I sat down on the counter and tapped into my average drumming skills, using the bar top as my drum and beat, and started to sing the song I thought would be best acapella. Trinity was watching me and swaying back and forth, and I found my groove. When I was done, all ten people in the bar started to cheer and whistle.
“Thanks,” I said. “I think that’s my cue to get going.”
Trinity looked at me, and I saw that she was as hungry for me as I was for her. Hopefully that little dive hotel was built sturdy enough to handle what we were capable of doing. The storm outside was nothing compared to the earthquake we might be creating between those four fake wood paneled walls.
Chapter Nine:
New Day, New Perspective
Stretching and staring at the yellowish pop tile ceiling, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. It was there, lingering on me like some sort of euphoric side effect from the crazy sex Hunter and I had treated each other to. We were able to get so wild with so little effort, completely sexually compatible, and equally curious. My arm flopped over and I felt for him, but didn’t feel him.
Despite a devilish afterglow from sex, I felt the opposing forces to it protesting from inside my skull. My head was throbbing a bit from too much Jägermeister, and it reminded me how bad that tasty shot was for me—the next day. I lifted my neck up, and stared toward the small bathroom in the corner. The door was open so Hunter wasn’t in there. Where was he?
I sat up slowly, breathing in and trying to reclaim the energy that had drained from me so quickly. All I’d done was wa
ke-up, but that was enough. I have to get my head on straight so I won’t be messed up for the video shoot, I thought.
What was wrong with me? I really did seem to lack control at all the wrong times. Well, at least I had about six hours to straighten things up.
I took a shower and got dressed in the same clothes I’d worn the night before. They smelled of musty hotel, and dive bar, which still smelled like an ashtray despite smoking in bars being illegal in California for a great many years. Ugh. Mixed in was the smell of sex. And Hunter. Overall, smelling myself made me nauseous. Food! That was the solution. I needed to get something to eat, a piece of toast, maybe, and coffee. Yes, coffee! Hopefully it would help reenergize me.
Looking around the room, I saw a broken lamp in the corner. How did that happen? I thought about it, and then a smile came to my face. Oh yeah. So that was what my foot had accidentally kicked when Hunter and I ended up sideways on the bed. Oops!
Outside the parking lot was still covered in snow marked with lots of tire tracks. Big rigs were everywhere in the parking lot, and in the corner was Hunter’s BMW, already brushed off. To the right of it were piles of snow from the highway, making small mountains. Then there was the sky. It was so blue, and the ground was so white that it made my eyeballs ache. Thank you Lord for sunglasses, I thought. Like any respectable party girl, I always planned for the morning when it came to eyewear. And I definitely needed those large, black Coco Channel shades this morning.
“Time to go out and face the cold,” I muttered. Only once I was outside the hotel room, I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t as cold as it looked. Snow was already melting from the rooftop of the hotel and I walked down to the lobby. It seemed like the logical spot to find Hunter; he’d obviously not gone far. Plus, the only other business in eyesight, the bar, was closed, its neon lights not glowing like beacons in the night.
Bells sounded out as I walked into the small lobby, and I smelled some coffee, and heard some laughter. Coffee first. I didn’t want to make eye contact if at all possible, shades or no shades. I wasn’t a morning personal naturally, and the hangover amped that up considerably.
I poured a cup of coffee, took a sip of its welcomed bitterness, and then turned around. Sitting in the corner, with his back to me, was Hunter. Next to him was the girl from the bar last night, and another younger girl. He was telling some story, his hands so animated, and his voice growing louder. They giggled at every word he said like it was made of gold. Didn’t they have any shame? The last thing a guy like Hunter Martinez needed was a bunch of bumbling bimbos inflating his rock star head. At minimal, they could play it casual cool.
Shit, I’m being a catty bitch. What the hell is going on? I thought. I’d just had a rant that was completely uncalled for, hangover or not. Thankfully I hadn’t verbalized it. Who took the real me and replaced me with psycho Trin? Maybe it was the Jäg. I was acting jealous, and that was a disgusting thought. I had no reason to be jealous, and what was I expecting from this guy? That we were only going to have good times with each other! I didn’t even want a relationship, and he clearly didn’t, either.
Panic set in and I started to walk out. Unfortunately, it was too late. He’d noticed me. “Trin, you’re up. Where you going?”
“Back to the room,” I said, trying to sound composed. Inside, I was freaking out.
“Come have a seat,” he said.
“I think I’ll pass,” I commented.
“Feeling okay?” he asked. I glanced at him and he was getting up, starting to walk over toward me.
I breathed in deeply, putting on my best acting that I could at that moment. “I am feeling fine, Hunter. I’ll see you back at the room.”
“Okay,” I heard him say, but I was already halfway out the door.
This strange emotion was so strong in me, and I didn’t get it. I hated it! I tried to calm myself down as I made the short walk back to our hotel room, but I couldn’t. It hurt to think, but I was instantly desperate to analyze and put to rest the way I felt at that moment. It was not like me to have such an irrational reaction. I didn’t operate that way.
It was only after I was back in the privacy of the crappy hotel room, that I was able to relax—a bit. I paced around, wanting something to do, but I didn’t have anything to pack, I’d already showered, and the only thing I had to do to occupy my time was waiting for Hunter to walk through that door so we could leave. I knew he’d wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I had to get my act together, and brush it off. I was not a jealous woman, and I was not a woman who needed any man in my life for more than a good time.
About five minutes later, I heard the key in the lock. Hunter walked through the door smiling, not a care in the world, and looked at me in an irresistible way. The bastard!
“You okay?” he asked. “Feeling all right?”
“I’m feeling fine. Just antsy to get back on the set and get to work,” I said.
“I see. Well, if you give me twenty, I’ll be set to go. I didn’t want to shower and wake you this morning. You were out cold.”
“Yeah, I must have been. I didn’t even hear you get up,” I said. Was I doing a good job at playing it casual? Yes, I think.
He walked up to me and wrapped his arms around me, which felt good physically, but mentally, I could not have anything to do with it. “You were wild, it was pretty fucking hot.”
“Yeah, it was good,” I said. I could only see the details of our activities through a foggy haze. Nothing was clear.
“Good, interesting choice of words,” Hunter said to me. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said in a bit too defensive a voice. “I’m just tired, and eager to wake up for work today, okay?”
“Got it, slow it down, Trinity. You’re acting kind of bitchy.”
“Sorry, just a bit hung, I guess.”
“Got it,” Hunter said to me. “I tried to call and make sure the set was ready to go, but I can’t get any reception up here for some reason.”
“We’ll just have to wait and find out then,” I said. “We’d better get going.” I was so irritable, and I didn’t want to be, but I could not express what I was feeling. It was too vulnerable, not to mention premature.
Chapter Ten:
Lingering Silence
The fact that Trinity was hungover was irrelevant to me. She was being a pain in the ass, making a long drive back to LA more miserable because of her moodiness. What the hell? It wasn’t really my style to lump all women into the same category, but she was acting like those women I’d heard of from friends - someone who’d been scorned. It pissed me off, and it was a reminder of why it maybe wasn’t good to mix business with pleasure. We’d had a few days of shooting amazing, hot footage for the video. Now, she was acting so damn bizarre that I half wondered if she could even pull off finishing the shoot.
Once we were in the car, I decided to just be silent for awhile. At least it would keep me out of trouble, and from being further irritated by her snide remarks. Seriously, if she didn’t quit, I was seriously going to have to kick her out of the car. I didn’t care if we were in the middle of the mountains. However, silence was not something I enjoyed, at all, and music could only take me so far. A little over an hour into our drive, I’d had enough.
“It’ll be interesting to see what the set looks like,” I said. That should be innocent enough.
“I’m guessing it looks just like the one that got ruined,” she replied. Truthful, but curt.
“So insightful,” I said back.
“Yes, I am. Very insightful,” Trinity said. I glanced over at her and she remained staring straight ahead.
Well, that attempt was a miserable failure. Could it really just be a hangover? Hard to say. I glanced over at her. Her face was turned to the window, her head pressed into the headrest of the soft, leather seat. It looked like she’d fallen asleep, and I was thankful. Maybe she’d wake up in a better mood.
Now all that was left to do was drive al
ong the still slippery roads with my rear wheel drive car, and focus on getting us back to LA. People thought LAers were a bit crazy, but I was starting to think that it was Midwesterners who were. The one in my car, at least.
The slow 45 miles per hour pace of the one lane highway was excruciating. If ever there was a time that I wanted to put the pedal to the metal, it was now. It was only fifteen more miles to the interstate, though, and that should be really clear so I could fly and make up for lost time. A small sedan turned right just ahead of me, but did nothing to make it up to speed.
“Fuck,” I mumbled. I put on my brakes, and they didn’t respond. Instead, the back of my car started to go left, while my hood went right. I tuned into my old video game driving skills and corrected without jerking the wheel, and just in time, too. A large semi went blazing past me. I felt a pit in my stomach, the kind you can’t help but get when you get such an unexpected startle, the kind of pit that adrenaline practically pours into. I glanced over to Trinity, and she was looking my direction, I think. Those big, black glasses were still on so it was hard to say for sure. “Jesus, that was close,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. Then she turned away again.
Misery. I was in misery, and the source of it was something I couldn’t escape, at least not for a few more days. This was the first time that I had ever looked at Trinity and not gotten a jolt of excitement in my cock. It was the first time that I didn’t find her quirky style fascinating, too.
“Did you have a good rest?” I asked.
“I wasn’t sleeping,” she said.
“Oh, well maybe you should,” I added.
“Not perky enough for you? Do you really need to be validated by having me giggle at your jokes, and talk even when I don’t have anything slightly interesting to say?”
“No, I’m good with your silence,” I said. I was so frustrated that I would have punched a brick wall if it was next to me.
I turned and saw Trinity bite her lip. She’d stopped herself from talking. I was glad.