Thrust Into His Arms

"Who’s there?" I ask, languidly dragging my feet to the door. "It’s me." The adenoidal voice belonged to the motel owner, Margaret.

I quickly wipe my eyes and scatter my hair over my face to somehow shield my eyes that must hold proof of me crying so she wouldn’t see it and ask prying questions

like she always does before opening the door to see her holding a tray like she has been doing for half the time I have been here.

"Good morning." I greeted, flashing a small smile.

"Morning." She responds, smiling sweetly. "I brought you some chicken pot pie. I had made a little too much." She said, giving me the tray which I graciously thanked her for and accepted because refusing her doesn’t work.

Because of her, I couldn’t be a pathetic shut-in. I did not come here looking for warmth or friendly smiles as it reminded me of betrayal.

But this woman who smells like eucalyptus with her colorful knitted sweaters penetrated into me somehow. Maybe I shouldn’t have went with the story of running away from home because of an imaginary abusive stepfather to her when she asked why I had come here alone. She had been nosy right from the day I came here.

"Sorry for disturbing your sleep. I had to bring it now because I would be heading out soon."

"Thanks."

"You’re welcome. Make sure you eat all of it. You are too much on the slim side. You could use a lot more weight." She adds making it sound like just a tease. "And tell me what you think about the taste cause it is going to determine whether or not I would make it for my daughter and her fiance later."

"Okay."

The day finally dawned crisp and clear with the sun peering through the window and painting stripes on the wall. The morning sunlight shone its beautiful golden rays and it lit up the room as the melodious bird songs chirped in, making me feel a little happy. I have come to like the feel of the first morning rays on my skin here.

As well as the salubrious smell of the sea close by.

I do some mind relaxing yoga right by the window side. I took a shower and headed out to the restaurant I worked at by the Konos Beach.

I had gotten the job through Margaret because she is friends with the restaurant owner. The opportunity had fallen right into my hands and I grabbed it. It pays nicely. Not to mention the tips I sometimes get from generous customers.

That is the reason I still haven’t gone back home. I don’t think I will anytime soon because this place is peaceful.

On getting in I find Richard, the son of the restaurant owner cleaning a table surface.

I greeted him in a low voice as I walked past because he is older than me and supposed to be in NYU by now if he hadn’t flunked his finals.

"Hey, Gina!"

He calls in that cheerful tone that somehow never fails to annoy me. And yes he knows me as Gina—They all do here cause that’s what I told them.

I don’t have a reason for lying about my name except just feeling like doing it. Who would have thought that I, Gweneth would one day become the world’s greatest liar?

Krohns really did more than a few numbers on me. "You okay? You don’t look so good. Were you up all night?" He asked cheekily.

God, I so much hate when he does this. Why do people pretend to care when they actually don’t give a damn? I don’t give him an answer. It’s not because his mother had briefed me to stay away from him if I value myself. According to her, he is a playboy who only knows how to sleep around.

He had gotten into the pants of the girls who worked here previously and it seems like he wants to make an attempt on me too. I told her that she has nothing to worry about as I very much plan on keeping to myself. And this bull-looking guy is nothing more than a buzzing fly I would squash if he gets too much on my nerves.

If it was a month ago when I was still normal, I might’ve been glad and getting fuzzy butterfly feelings that a guy like him is paying attention to me even though it’s clearly one with an ulterior motive.

I waltz into the small kitchen to drop my bag, and then got a damp piece of cloth to clean the tables like I do every morning. Wait, Richard is already doing that. I’m supposed to ask which one he has cleaned, but I don’t want to speak to him so I just walked to a

table and begin to swipe hard at the surface wishing I could do the same to rid my damn mind off the memories haunting it. Richard said something about already cleaning the tables but I pretend not to hear him and kept on cleaning. He suddenly comes and drags the cloth away from me. "Give it back." I say flatly, not having it in me to yell. "I told you I have already done it. I have done all of them. I was doing the last one when you arrived." He said.

Shallow attempt. Who asked you to?

"You shouldn’t have. Give it to me." I hold my hand open for him to return the cloth. Why would he do that? That’s part of my job. And there’s nothing more relaxing than that for me. He seems really offended now. But I don’t care. "A simple thank you would’ve been nice. Weren’t you taught manners?"

"Don’t make me tell you to give it back again."

"Here you go." I start cleaning as soon as he returns it. "There is no need to act frigid and hostile."

I’m not acting. I simply don’t want you close. You’re the one playing stupid. I say inwardly.

"Can’t you just be as cool as you look?"

There goes another cheesy line.

"You can’t ignore me today Gina. My mom is not coming. That means it’ll be just you and me here. Also the customers." That made me pause and tear my eyes away from the table to him in disbelief.

"You’re kidding."

He shrugs, "No I’m not. Wouldn’t that be fun? And why do you have that look? I don’t bite pretty girls."

Me and him here? Bloody hell, he seems to be telling the truth.