Baited

Chapter 4. The Pit Stop - present day

After cashing our checks and filling up Cooper's old 1996 beat-up, dusty blue Toyota Camry with gas, we started our 22 hour car ride home to our small town in upstate New York. Aside from the occasional small talk about the drive ahead, Cooper and I haven't spoken. The only sound filling the tense atmosphere in the car was the radio that kept going in and out. If we were lucky, we'd have good reception for maybe 30 minutes before one of us had to play with the old tuner knob to find a new station. Each time the music cut out and silence fell, it was a nagging reminder that things between us had changed and neither of us wanted to accept the inevitable. We were going to have to talk about this sooner or later.

Leaving later than we wished, it was only 6 hours into the car ride home when the dreaded sandman came calling. Cooper and I both agreed we would take turns driving but that we'd splurge on motel rooms when we wanted to sleep. Neither of us could sleep comfortably in a car.

"I'm getting tired. We should get off at the next exit. My phone says there's a motel in the next town. The Pit Stop or something like that." It was the first words I've spoken in hours and even still, I did not glance over to Cooper when I spoke.

Cooper cleared his throat and in the corner of my eyes I could see he hesitated before responding. "Sure thing, Bud. The Pit Stop it isssss..." He dragged out the last word, playfully acknowledging my request in an attempt to lighten the mood. He is always cheerful and upbeat. So much so that trying to get him to shut up is usually a chore most of the time. These last few hours must have been torture for him.

As promised, he pulled off the interstate at the next exit. I put the address in my phone's GPS and placed it in the center console so that he could navigate his way to the motel. I didn't trust my voice enough to speak the direction aloud.

We pulled into a parking lot of what looked to be something out of a horror movie. The parking lot was dark; the only form of light was cast down from a neon red motel sign that looked as though it had seen better days. Every few seconds the lights would lose power and blink rapidly until it found its power source once more. The Pit Stop itself, mirrored it's sign. The two story structure stood eerily off a dirt road, it's exterior was made of worn red bricks with two stairways on both sides of the building. To the right of one of the stairways, a small office could be seen - noticeable by the only inside lights that pierced through three small windows.

"I'll go check us in." I jumped out of the car without giving Cooper a chance to come with me.

My experience in the motels check-in office wasn't the best. The motel appeared to have about 10 rooms and with only a handful of cars parked in the parking lot, I would have assumed they had more available than I was informed of. The overweight, balding and less than friendly clerk told me many of the rooms had no water and all he could offer me was a room with one queen sized bed.

This would normally not be an issue as Cooper and I usually share a bed. It was never anything weird to us. Like I said, prior to the shoot, I thought of him like a brother. Post shoot, the thought crippled me.

After a heated discussion with the large man who threatened not to rent me a room at all, I reluctantly paid him for the room offered. Childishly, I stomped my way back to Cooper and the car with a scowl on my face. Cooper noticed immediately.

"What's, ehem," Cooper cleared his throat again. "What's up? Why the long face, Homie?"

"They only have one room and it only has one bed in it." I tossed him the key to the room and went to open the back seat of his car.

"What's the problem with that?" He asked soooo nonchalantly. Dumbfounded even.

"Whatever." My response came out harsher than I intended.