Tia and Jordan, don't they hate one another?
They're like chalk and cheese, he's the 'it' boy, life of every party and blankets the world in sarcasm. She's judgemental, opinionated and already has major trust issues when it comes to Jordan and his...
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The motel was bathed in hues of summer, a story told in soft blues and European beech wood. With darling swirls of aqua artwork on the wall and cleanly white sheets, it was the kind of space that let the calm self rise within.
"Damn it!" Jordan shouted, tossing his phone down on the bed.
He wasn't calm.
In fact he was actually extremely agitated, just sitting there on the end of the bed with his head in his hands.
I didn't really know what to do or say if anything at all. This was awkward, I was out of place here.
"Maybe you should just call later, whoever you're trying to reach is obviously not available to speak right now."
His head snapped up to glare at me, "did I ask for your opinion?"
"No but you keep try—"
"Didn't I distinctly tell you not to talk to me?"
"You did." I acknowledged. "You're mad at me for the most pathetic reason. I didn't make you fight that guy, I didn't even ask you too. I bet you're really only angry at me because that girl decided not to pursue sleeping with you. Do you know how much of a red flag that argument is?"
He huffed out air childishly and then grabbed his phone again, making another call.
"Hey mom, reached your voicemail again. Where are you? Are you ok? I'm getting worried about you. Call me back."
He dipped his hand into his pocket searching for something. To my horror he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter.
"You're not allowed to smoke in here, the lady was explicitly clear with the rules."
He clicked the lighter and a flame danced in the air from the end. "Since when have I ever followed the rules?"
"You'll set the fire alarm off!" He tilted his chin towards me and blew out so that smoke slowly poured from his lips and floated my way.
With a careless shrug he uttered, "then I'll just blame it on you."
My body had the urge to scream at him, to stamp my feet on the ground and create a ruckus. He got me so angry all the damn time. Pent up frustrations with nowhere to go because I couldn't scream and shout like a toddler. I needed to remain calm, civilised and mature.
So with heavy feet I stomped over to the window and banged the frame upwards to let in some fresher air.
There came a chaotic tidal wind, rushing in and out with an eerie howl. It attacked my bare flesh like sharp ice in an almost painful manner.
"Now look who is breaking the rules." He muttered between smokes.
"Yeah well, this is necessary." I pointed at the open window. "You're polluting the air and it stinks."
