Page 68 of So Thirsty

“Naomi.”

“I’m fine! I can do it,” she says, then shuts the door before I can talk her out of it.

“Yeah, let’s just roll the dice, see what happens. Maybe someone else will end up dead or injured or a vampire or a skeletal zombie,” I mutter to myself, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Wouldn’t that just be a trip?”

I watch her go into the office, and I consider running after her so I can babysit, but by the time I talk myself out of it, she’s already coming back, dangling a room key over her head.

I get out of the car. “Nice.”

“Room six,” she says. “Right here.”

She goes in, leaving me to unload our bags from the car, drag them into room six.

The room is as expected. Wood-paneled walls. Matted carpet. An ancient TV. Furniture that looks like it’s held together with chewing gum. There are two double beds made up with paisley bedspreads, though I can’t distinguish between the pattern and the stains. There are several lamps, with their shades all covered in dust. There’s a ceiling fan that’s hanging loose, the wires visible. The room is stuffy, and it smells like mustard.

Naomi comes out of the bathroom, walks over to one of the beds, and lifts the covers to check the mattress for bedbugs.

“See any?”

“Surprisingly, no,” she says.

“Some bloodsuckers have higher standards.”

She waves me off. “It’s not that bad. I think it’s charming.”

I lock the door, secure the dead bolt, the chain. I pull the curtains across, releasing a dense cloud of filth and making the room go dark.

“How’s the bathroom?” I ask.

“It’s pretty clean.”

I see for myself. She’s not wrong. It is pretty clean. At least, cleaner than the rest of the place. There are two small spiders in the corner near the toilet. I let them be.

I stare at the toilet. I haven’t used one since before…

I sit down and wait for something to happen. Nothing does. I flush the toilet anyway. I wash my hands, splash some water on my face. Avoid the mirror not because of my reflection, but because of the absence of it.

Naomi lounges on one of the beds, shoeless. There’s blood on her tie-dyed sweat suit. I hadn’t noticed until now. Maybe it was a smart outfit choice after all.

“So…what did you say to Lee when you called him?” I ask, taking the other bed, the one closer to the window.

“Nothing about our exploits, if that’s what you’re getting at,” she says. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“He flies in today.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see him tonight. I know where he’s staying.”

“Do you know what you’re going to say to him?”

She slips under the covers, then turns on her side to face me. “Thanks for the memories. I’m about to fall off the face of the earth.”

“I’m serious.”

“I don’t know yet. I’m sad and I’m—I’m not entirely, like, processing any of this as reality. I know what needs to happen tonight, and I’m not ready. I love him. But at the same time…”