Page 97 of Flirtasaurus
“Can we go? I really need to go.”
“Of course. Yeah. Let’s go.”
Ralph turns on the car, and we reverse out onto the street and start driving away. Even though I tell myself not to, I can’t help watching the expression on my mother’s face until she’s completely out of sight.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Oh my God, what a shithole.”
Ralph and I stand in the doorway, staring into our economy-sized room at The Liberty Bell Motel off the Philadelphia Turnpike.
“I dunno. For fifty-nine dollars a night, it seems pretty nice.”
Just then, a cockroach scurries across the floor.
“Holy crap! Ew! Ew! Ew!” I scream and throw myself at him. He wraps his arms around me. “Care to revise that statement, sir?” My voice sounds muffled against his chest.
“Shhh. It’s okay. He’s more afraid of us than we are of him. We just freaked him out when we turned on the light.”
“You sound like you’re comforting a little kid.”
“Well, you’re kind of acting like a little kid, aren’t you?” He mocks.
Swatting him on the shoulder, I take a step away from him, embarrassed that I plunged into his arms like such a pansy.
I toss my backpack on the double bed. It doesn’t bounce, though, like it should. It just lands there with a smack.
“What the hell is that mattress made of?” I ask, then walk over to it and press both hands down a few times.
Squeaky, squeaky, squeaky.
“This feels like cardboard. Does this feel like cardboard to you?”
Ralph shuts and bolts the door behind us, then presses his own hands into the bed a few times.
Squeaky, squeaky, squeaky.
“Yeah, that ain’t gonna be comfy.”
“I’m sorry, Ralph.” I sigh and sit down on the bed. Bed obviously being a generous term.
“Why are you sorry? It was my Vulva that broke down on the side of the road.”
That gets a laugh out of me.
“Yeah, but I could call my dad to come help us. They’re only ten minutes away.”
“I’m almost certain he would come, ya know,” Ralph says gently. “No questions asked.”
“I know he would. I just… I can’t right now.”
He sits down beside me and pats my thigh.
“It’s okay. We can figure something out in the morning.”
I look down at his hand, which he hasn’t moved from my leg, and I realize I don’t mind one bit.
“There’s always the megabus,” I offer.
