Heartbreak At Motel 7!

Chapter 3

By the time I was 8 years old I was already fully aware that I had to uphold my family's reputation.
I did so rather graciously, if I do say so myself.

As you know by now, I am my father's daughter.
Literally and figuratively.
I took after him in most ways and this reflected in my scholastic career.

I was a well rounded student.
I was captain of the debate team.
I did cross country.
I was good at every subject, not just because I was smart but because I was disciplined and dedicated.
My brother followed suite, although he was naturally better at English and History.

All in all, we appeared to be the perfect surburan family (seeing as nobody knew about my new found rebellious phase yet.)
We even had a golden retriever named Max.
I mean, what a picture perfect family right? And that's not just me being sarcastic. Every one of our family portraits came out really well.

That is also why I knew for a fact that if my father were to see me parked in the Motel 7 parking lot with the car that he had gifted me for my 16th birthday, he would have my head on a silver platter.

Especially because my car's number plate held my initial alongside my family name, C-H4DDEN.
They replaced the A with a 4 for creativity purposes, I suppose. But it's still blaringly obvious.

The Hadden's girl parked at a shady motel, about to enter a strip club in broad daylight!
How shameful! How horrible! How filthy and utterly disgusting!
Where could they have possibly gone wrong? What would people say?
Blah blah fucking BLAH.

I could already feel myself being bored out of my skull by the conversation before it even took place, and so, I had to be careful.

I had a hoodie over my head, covering my hair and creating a shadow over my face.

I would've worn sunglasses to be more discreet but:
1. I didn't want to look like a complete freak.
2. I didn't want to look like a fashion pariah.
3. I didn't want them to think that I was gonna come in and rob the place.
4. There wasn't even anybody else around (would sunglasses not be overkill?)
5. I just wanted there to be a round number of reasons so I'll say that if I had worn sunglasses they would have been my mother's. I don't own my own pair and all of hers make me look like a beetle.

I stayed hunched over, checking the coast to make sure that it was clear.
It would be a quick job. In and out.
I would just go, ask if they have a Lost And Found section and that would be that.

I wanted Marsha to be my accomplice in retrieving my things but she was "totally hungover."
Whatever.

I scanned the parking lot.
It was remenisicent of the night before.
Only one car, but instead of the green Ford, it was mine.
And the motorcycle once again.

The same sleek, black motorcycle that looked to be of a different time period than its surroundings.

I could never drive a motorcycle.
How flighty and unsteady.
You couldn't even drive with more than two people on that thing.
That's the kind of ride that you have when you're by yourself, and don't plan on riding around with many others. Maybe you don't have many others in your life.

I looked back at my own car, that I used to drive around with my brother and my friends.
That I used to go on shopping trips with my mother, and felt safe and secure with all the extra locks and heavy doors.

Why was I being a brand ambassador for motor vehicles?
Was I just procrastinating going inside?
Maybe so.

I sighed before finally deciding to get it over and done with.
I got out of my car, locked it and approached the infamous "Naughty Corner."
Cue a full body shudder.