The murky flood light outside the girls’ chincy motel room lead the Suburban and then Firebird safely over the dark gravel, the black number ‘10’ painted with slipshod precision in full view in the wake of the flickering ‘Heaven’s Way Motel’ sign.
“Home sweet home,” Deon sighed happily, bumping the front tires carelessly against the curb, Deon and Wyllah cackling like hens in the hazy but warm night. Deon leaped over Wyllah, knocking her bony knees into her stomach and out of the car as Wyllah groaned and gently opened and closed the car door, being more reserved with her exits.
“Welcome to the House of Booty,” Deon yelled to the guys jokingly, the gold key gangling noisily against the light blue door, the gears of the lock grinding as it finally unlocked, opening to a small but adequate double room with dark blue carpeting, cheesy cloud wallpaper, a small black and white TV, a small closet-like bathroom, and a breathtaking view of the coast from their sliding-glass patio door.
“I’ve seen worse,” Chris replied honestly, stepping in cautiously as if he was afraid all of them wouldn’t fit.
“I call the crapper!” Benji blurted out, his face red with pain, pushing past Deon and Wyllah and streamlining to the white bathroom door on the right, slamming it as if with the hand of God.
“Nice, Benj,” Joel responded, rolling his eyes as he inched his way in, glancing casually around the room.
“This isn’t a wake, fellows,” Deon announced, motioning for the rest of them to enter, kicking off her black platform sandals and leaping onto her white and blue-draped bed, the springs groaning with her weight. “Pop a squat anywhere.”
“I’m starving, Dee,” Wyllah told Deon, gently sliding out of her Birkenstocks and leaving them tidily next to her brown suitcases next to the bathroom door.
“What are you guys feeling?” Deon asked the boys, reaching over Billy to pick up the bashe phone on the nightstand between her and Wyllah’s bed.
“Tacos,” Joel told Deon.
“Pasta,” Paul groaned, rubbing his stomach, and kissing his fingertips in Italian fashion.
“Chicken,” Chris responded.
“Vegetarian,” Billy finished off the motley list.
“OK…” Deon replied, sitting Indian-style, dialing up a number rapidly. “We’ll go for Chinese, then.” The boys nodded and shrugged as Wyllah settled down between Joel and Paul at the foot of her bed, grasping the remote and beginning to channel surf.
“Tell me when you guys see something you like,” Wyllah told the boys softly, tossing down a white pillow to Chris who looked uncomfortable against the wall. Chris smiled with gratitude as he pinned the pillow behind his back.
“Hey, Pete?” Deon asked with sugar coating into the phone, “Yeah, it’s Dee. Listen, I know we’ve haven’t been town in a while, but we were hoping you could hook us up? The usual…Pete! C’Mon, you love us! Remember when I saved your ass at the club when you touched that…OK, that’s fine. Thanks Babycakes.” Deon bit her lip as she hung up the phone. “Food will be here in ½ hour,” Deon announced, rolling herself off the couch.
“Is ‘The Usual’ enough for all us?” Paul asked unsurely, his eyes diverted to his stomach.
“Always thinking about food, that one is,” Joel whispered to Wyllah, Wyllah giggling in response.
“Oh yeah,” Wyllah assured Paul, her clicking briefly stopping on MTV, then continuing to the movie channels.
Benji emerged from the bathroom finally, and the stench that followed him was horrendous.
“What died in there, Benj?” Billy asked, plugging his nose and fanning the air with his bony hand.
“Yeah,” Joel agreed, beginning to cough as if he was suffocating.
“You made it 100 degrees in here, Benji Boy,” Deon announced, tugging at the button of her jeans and looking devilishly over at Wyllah.
“No, Dee,” Wyllah moaned, rolling her eyes and resting her head in her hands.
“He asked for it,” Deon informed Wyllah, unbuttoning her pants and sliding gently down her short, tanned legs, revealing miles of firm flesh and her taunt black thong.
“Holla!” Paul shouted eagerly, fishing through his black pants pockets for a dollar.
Deon giggled as she tossed the pants onto Billy’s lap, Billy covering his eyes in respect for the girl who was waiting back home for him.
“Should we turn on some music?” Chris asked with a smile, Deon tossing him a wink as she pulled at the bottom of her black wifebeater, Benji’s mouth plummeted to the floor as he focused on her…biggest assests.
“Work it, Girl!” Paul called out to her as she ripped off her tank top, swinging it like a lasso over her head and throwing it onto Paul’s face.
Deon reached behind her, her breasts, moist and tender, almost tumbling out of her red push-up bra, her eyes locking on Benji. Benji uncharacteristically blushed as she turned towards the patio door, unclasping the clasp with one swift motion.
“Deon,” Wyllah complained, but couldn’t help but smiling as Deon chucked it at Benji, it looping around one of his ears.
“It’s new, Wyllah,” Deon replied, looking behind her shoulder at her smiling friends. “I can’t get it wet when Benji and I go take a dip right now.”
“Well, don’t keep the lady waiting,” Billy told Benji, Benji shaking his head with a smile as Deon grabbed his hand and pushed the door to the side.
“Is that a piercing?” Benji’s voice carried off with the wind as they disappeared into the darkness to frolic in the sand.
“That’s not really a Nudist beach, is it?” Paul asked intrigued, sliding off the bed and watching the rolling waves.
“You’re so gullible, Paul,” Wyllah told him, patting his shoulder as ‘Lilo and Stitch’ came onto the TV…
~*~
“Hi Peter,” Wyllah greeted him with a bright smile, fingering the money Deon said the food would cost as he gently placed the food in her hands.
“What’s happening, Wyllah?” Peter asked her casually as she sat the boxes on the floor, handing the two boxes of Chinese to her, his sandy blonde hair tangled in the evening wind, his hair slicing in front of his honey brown eyes.
“Not much,” Wyllah responded, counting the money and then handing it to him, Peter looking down at the money in disgust.
“No can do, Wyll,” Peter informed her, holding up his hands in defense. “It’s on me. I just like to bust Deon’s balls. Speaking of which, where is she?”
“You know…” Wyllah told Peter with a sneaky grin, shoving the money in his white button-down shirt pocket for a big tip. “When we invited you here…she started to complain about the heat…she took you-”
“I gotcha,” Peter interrupted sheepishly, biting his full lower lip. “I gotta run. More deliveries. Call me, OK?” Peter laid a brisk kiss on her cheek and departed, giving her a final wave before hopping into his brown Volvo.
“You girls sure do get around,” Chris commented, opening a contained of Egg Fo Yun and diving into it with his chopsticks.
“Deon does all the ‘getting’, I assure you,” Wyllah laughed, plopping Indian-style onto the coarse carpet.
“Should we call them in?” Joel asked, rising from his seat and peeking through the cotton blue curtain into the murky night.
“They’ll come crawling back when they’re hungry enough,” Paul responded matter-of-factly, snuggling a spot next to Wyllah, brushing his hand unintentionally against her leg as he reached for an egg roll. Wyllah ignored the feeling.
“So where are you girls originally from?” Billy asked casually, sharing his white rice with Chris.
“We’re from Illinois,” Wyllah announced, slurping up some of her noodles from her Egg Drop Soup. “Evansville. It’s a suburb of Indianapolis. It’s pretty small – Only about 5,000. That’s one of the reasons Deon and I wanted to get out of there and see the states.”
“What are the other ones?” Joel asked casually, uncapping a 2 Liter Pepsi and gulping from it.
“Gross!” Chris told Joel, notioning towards Wyllah in respect. Wyllah only smiled.
“Have you ever heard of the saying ‘Live life to the fullest’?” Wyllah asked Joel, spreading her long legs across the ocean of a carpet.
“Of course,” Joel responded slowly, her eyes alight with something he couldn’t describe – an aura of either something ominous or welcoming. He didn’t know if he should be captivated or worried.
“Broadly, that’s how we live our lives,” Wyllah confided, her hazel eyes lowered to her yellow soup. The air was stifling for the crew as Lilo whispered to the dark forest about being lost.
“So,” Billy interrupted the silence, usually not the instigator of conversation, but things were different. “How old are you girls?” Billy asked
“I turned 23 in March,” Wyllah replied, scraping her plastic spoon against the bottom of the plastic container. “Deon’s turning 23 in September.”
“Funny…Joel and Benji’s birthday is in March, too!” Paul informed Wyllah, Joel and Wyllah locking eyes and sharing small smiles, “You guys could be triplets!”
“Not unless his birthday’s the 11th,” Wyllah broke Paul’s bubble, rubbing her bare arms, the murky air becoming chill.
“It is,” Joel replied, narrowing his eyes and smiling.
“That’s too weird,” Wyllah concluded, rising up from against the bed and walking towards the patio door, holding herself from the cold.
“Well, no offense, Joel,” Paul began, choking down a burp, “But Wyllah definitely got the looks of the family.”
An expression of hurt sprawled across Joel’s face as he leaned over to Paul, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “That’s not what you said last night, Pauly,” Joel cooed, rubbing his fingertips across his cheek.
“Gross!” Paul cried, leaping from the floor and sprinting over to Wyllah and behind her, clutching her shoulders in defense. Wyllah smiled. She hadn’t remembered a night where she had smiled so much.