Friendship In Unusual Places

The plane's turbulence worsened, and Angelina's stomach did a backflip.

The scenery that flitted by changed- a bright sun, then a galaxy-colored sky, and then, finally, blazing lights treading forward into the darkness, marching through cities, stomping out darkness.

Angelina felt a strange sense of comfort. Despite being almost 25, she was still afraid of the dark. It was one of her deepest secrets, not because it incapacitated her, but because it was embarrassing. “Society weaves what it likes. Those who follow might never find themselves. But you? Ha, you, Mi Nieta, will forge through the tide all alone. Soon you will see. Soon…” 

She found herself wishing her grandmother was back with her and got lost in a tangle of memories, some sweet, some less so. 

Finally, after another hour, the memories turned to dreams, and Angelina was carried away by the soft hope of sleep.

*     *     *     *     *

“ Hello, passengers! We have reached Hawaii- if you live here, let us be the first to say- Welcome home. If you’re visiting, well, enjoy the sun!”

The last bit seemed ironic, Angelina noted, since it was still dark, the sun just peeking up from above the tint of the sky, exploding into pinks and blues.

Slowly, carefully, the plane descended. 

Angelina cursed every time her ears popped until a father tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to his child. 

Angelina looked away and her face grew hot.

Once touch-down had been achieved, everybody got into the middle row. 

It was like being a crowded hallway with a few people going down the middle at a time, the rest squeezed on the sides, forced to move away from the center and towards the walls.

The thought of being trapped like that, alone, with strangers, made her feel uneasy.

Little did she know, she would be doing a lot of that, this vacation. 

The hotel was incredible. Gold was flecked across the gigantic ceiling and flecks of rainbow looked as if they were splattered onto the walls by accident. Angelina looked at the furniture. Plump sofas, large feather pillows, and a potted plant. 

This obviously wasn’t cheap, and once she saw this place she began to regret going here. How much money would service be?

Angelina shook her head. It was too late for doubts. She strode up to the front desk. 

“Hello. I’m here to check-in, please.”

The old woman hardly glanced up, “Name?”

“Angelina Hopkins.”

When she said her last name the woman continued looking at her computer but raised an eyebrow anyway. 

“You booked the bargain?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Uh, yeah. Is he your husband? Actually, nevermind- both of you reserved, and it’s none of my business. Room is 805, floor 8.” She paused and finally glanced up, adding, “Obviously.”

Angelina frowned. 

“Is who my husband?”

The older woman at the counter (Angelina saw her name tag now, it read “Hawthorne, Rose”) looked back at her computer and said dejectedly, “Private lady, eh? Well, go on then. Luggage carts are in the front.” Rose nodded towards the front like Angelina couldn’t see. 

Angelina nodded politely, grabbed her only suitcase, and lugged it towards the elevator. 

Bing! Said the elevator.

Angelina rolled her eyes at the machine and stepped in. 

There was a man, with piercing blue eyes, and wavy movie star hair, a deep chocolate brown. His skin was tan- white, but tan. 

His eyes crinkled with smile lines when he saw me come in. I gulped nervously.

“Hello!” His voice was smooth, calm, and radiated a sort of peace.

“H-Hi!” Angelina said, a bit too nervous. It wasn’t because it was handsome, (but that was part of it) but that he was unknown. In the same confined space for what… a minute? 30 seconds? But she knew when she was nervous every single second dragged by with claws and roaring at time itself, challenging, yelling, “You want to fight?! Let’s fight!”

And every second time grew weaker, the seconds longer, until time itself was conquered and it was just her and the man in the elevator, the strange, smiling, handsome man.

“How are you?”

It took her a second to realize the question came from herself. Angelina clapped my hand over her mouth, then profusely apologized.

The man waved his hand and laughed. “It’s fine. Good thing we’re going to the same floor,” he said, nodding towards the elevator buttons, where only floor 8 was highlighted.

She almost whimpered. The same floor? That might be awkward. 

The guy seemed really friendly, though, so Angelina shook the thoughts away. 

“So… what brings you here?” The man asked, a genuine look in his eyes. 

“I’m on vacation. I got a bargain hotel room.”

He laughed. 

“That’s great! I got one too. What’s your name?”

“I’m Angelina.”

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Matteusz, but you can call me Matt. I’ve long since lost my accent, anyways.” 

“Oh! Great to meet you, Matt!” Angelina smiled at him.

Before Matt could respond, though, the elevator dinged and they each walked out. 

“We’ll go out separate ways for now. I’m currently off to the loo.” Mateusz said. 

Angelina headed to her room. 

“805, 805,” she murmured to herself.

She finally got there after a  few twists and turns down the long hotel corridors. 

She fished around in her jean pockets and found the card to get in. 

She did notice and was grateful that her pockets were even big enough to fish around in.

Not all feminine clothes did.

The door creaked open.

Angelina gasped.

It was a gigantic room, with two twin beds and a snack bar, complete with a 12 foot TV.

Angelina almost laughed, giddily. It was too good to be true.

She walked to one of the gigantic beds and plopped herself down, not realizing quite how exhausted from Jet lag she was. She lay down and almost immediately fell asleep, and was grateful for it.

She woke up to somebody shaking her.

She blinked her eyes, trying to clear the fuzziness from them.

"L...Leave me alone..." she was fighting to clear her head, and she was almost there. Who was this person? The more awake she became the more fear she had.

A familiar voice said, "How did you get into my room?"

Angelina snapped out of it.

"M... Matteusz?"

"Matt," he corrected.

"More English, why?" She asked.

Matt looked thoughtful for a moment, but obviously wasn't too thoughtful, because he immediately said, "But what are you doing in my room?"

"It's mine. The better question is how you got into my room. While I was sleeping. that's seriously creepy, Matte- uh, Matt."

"You said you had a bargain room, too, correct?"

"Yes...?"

"Well... what if it's the same room?"

He plopped down on the other bed.

"Oh!" Angelina slapped her forehead, "Of course! The lady, Mrs. Hawthorne, or, Rose, or whatever you want to call her, she said to me 'is he your husband? oh wait its none of my business..." did she mean... you?"

"Did they sell the same room out to two people?"

"Maybe they're cheaper than they look. It's a perfect disguise, the grand hall and flecked gold and silver walls," Angelina said bitterly.

"Oh."

The one word. The start of something that might last a week. But certainly not a friendship.

Possibly something more or less could bloom from this strange situation.