Chapter 4 Alex
Alex
The night air was working its magic on Alex.
Several long hours after arriving, he was starting to feel human again. He was a terrible traveler. It didn’t matter if it was a car, bus, or boat. It was embarrassing. Once he’d even vomited on a roller coaster in front of half his grade. Danny had never let him live that down.
At least he wouldn’t have to go back on the bus again, Alex told himself, even though it was small consolation. Pausing outside the pool area, he looked across at the black outline of the burned-out bus and shivered slightly.
Adjusting his guitar strap over his shoulder, he pushed the rusted pool gate open and stepped inside.
Maybe once, a long time ago, this place had been the main attraction of the motel and somewhere to escape the day’s harsh heat and cool off under the shade of the lone palm tree.
But as with everything else in the Motel Loba, it was a shadow of its former glory.
The small pool was completely dry, red sand accumulating in the corners under rusted pieces of broken loungers and sun umbrellas.
Discarded pool furniture and faded blue tiles were strewn around the enclosure.
Strings of broken Christmas tree lights hung off the fence like barbed wire.
A fire was burning in the bottom of the pool; dancing shadows lit up the walls, flickering in and out of focus, creating golden ripples.
Ellis was sitting on a diving board high above everyone, talking loudly, but no one was paying much attention.
Jax was standing by the fire, throwing pieces of old, desiccated wood into the flames with one hand while simultaneously filming himself with the other.
Jade was lying stretched out on a beach towel nearby, wearing a white micro bikini, despite the chilly air.
She was the spitting image of her beautiful movie-star mother, the rom-com queen Jennifer Clark, and she knew it, flaunting her second-hand celebrity every chance she got.
She waved at Alex and smiled, dropping her head coyly to one side.
He swallowed nervously, grateful that it was dark. Walking to the pool edge, he lightly jumped in, settling himself a safe distance from the fire, on the far side of Jade.
Carefully, he unclipped his guitar case. He was the entertainment, and that was fine by him. It was simpler this way. When he was playing, he didn’t have to make conversation.
These were Danny’s friends. Alex understood that.
But they were pretty nice and seemed to like him well enough.
After the fire, after the news stories and rumors about him had started circulating and people began to avoid him in the hallway, they’d been good to him—they’d kept him around.
Having somewhere to go and people to hang with had meant more than he cared to admit.
“No cars, no one here, no other guests. All very convenient, right?” Ellis muttered to himself, a line of empty minibar vodka bottles stacked neatly beside him. He was flipping a coin high in the air and catching it easily, over and over. “Something is very wrong about this.”
“What’s the big deal, Ellis?” Jade said with a sigh. “Seriously. Tomorrow we’ll get out of here and we’ll never have to think about this awful place again.”
“As usual, your tiny little brain is not seeing the big picture, Jade. The bus exploding, the anniversary card… Something is off.” Ellis stood up and started bouncing up and down on the diving board. The bottles scattered and rolled off.
There was a pent-up, dangerous energy about Ellis tonight. Alex had seen it at parties plenty of times over the last year. Ever since the fire, he always seemed to be angry, as though there was still something smoldering, slow-burning inside him, looking for a way to explode.
Ellis’s steel-gray eyes roved restlessly around the pool enclosure, pausing on a dark corner under the solitary palm tree. He smiled.
“Well, well. Caden Loftus. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
For the first time, Alex noticed Caden lurking in the deep shadows by the fence. He must have just arrived. He had his hands in his pockets and was kicking at pieces of broken furniture. He looked up when Ellis said his name like a deer in headlights.
“Why are you on this trip, Loft-ass? Weren’t you expelled from St. Francis last year? Let me see, what was it… Oh, yes—didn’t you sell Karl Hunt drugs right before he got high and set fire to the whole fucking school?”
Alex felt sick hearing that name.
Caden didn’t respond. He just shifted slightly on the spot. The flickering firelight lit his face from below, contorting his features into a fierce expression.
“Of course,” Ellis continued, “even you can see why that would be confusing for us. I mean, you get Hunt high right before he decides to burn the school gym down during the biggest game of the year. He kills himself and two of our friends. Then you get expelled, and now…you’re here on a school trip with us?
” Ellis’s eyes were firmly locked on Caden, and he was enjoying himself.
“I wasn’t expelled,” Caden growled. His voice was low and dangerous. “I did a semester at military school.”
“Is that what they’re calling juvie these days?”
“Screw you, Ellis. There’s no proof…”
“No, screw you. We don’t need proof, do we?
Not really. Because everybody knows what you did.
The press released Karl Hunt’s autopsy. He was toasted, and there was only one person selling pills at the game that night.
” Ellis could smell blood. “Danny and Maia died, and I’ve got to live with these for the rest of my life.
” Ellis yanked his jersey up, revealing hard ridges of burn scars across the side of his chest and his shoulder.
“Hunt started the fire. Not me,” Caden bellowed. He was roving around the tree like an angry bear, agitated. “I hardly knew him. He was one of your friends, Ellis. One of your stupid Wolves.”
“One of my stupid Wolves?” Ellis unfolded like a snake.
Alex winced. Caden had made a rookie mistake, insulting St. Francis High’s legendary basketball team, the Wolves, in front of its star player. Even Jax turned the camera away from himself for once, so he could film the confrontation—just in case things got good.
“Karl Hunt was a murdering psycho who got thrown off the team for being a junkie loser. He didn’t buy drugs from me. He went to you, another junkie loser. Game recognizes game.”
“It wasn’t my fault! You got something to say, come here. Say it to my face,” Caden yelled. He picked up a metal chair frame and flung it hard against the fence.
Ellis laughed.
It was too easy. Ellis was dying for a fight. He obviously hadn’t had enough exercise sitting on a bus all day. There was no gym here, so he would get his cardio beating the shit out of someone.
“Oh my god, get over yourselves,” Jade snapped.
“Ellis, just chill. We’ve got enough problems being stuck here in this stupid motel without you two acting like a pair of toddlers.
Right, Jax?” Jax was standing by the side of the pool, phone propped on the tiled edge, filming Caden from a safe distance.
When he didn’t answer, Jade sighed deeply.
“Hey, Alex. Play something happy. Ellis has been such a downer tonight.”
Alex already had his guitar on his knee, his floppy hair tucked behind his ears.
As he started playing, he felt instantly calmer, instantly better.
He could sense the tension lifting as the notes floated on the air.
With the skill of a seasoned performer, he worked his magic, switching it up, catching the mood.
It wasn’t long before the music took hold of the moment; the pent-up, angry energy diffused, fading away into the darkness.
Soon enough, Caden turned away and started kicking at the furniture again, the argument forgotten.
But Ellis didn’t move. He remained fixed to the spot, head down, glaring around him. Alex felt a sharp tug of anxiety. He’d been around Ellis long enough to know that this negative energy had to go somewhere, to blow itself out; if it didn’t happen here and now, then it was sure to come out later.
Turning back to his guitar, Alex’s fingers uncharacteristically fumbled the notes. He made a mental note to stay away from Ellis on this trip; he was a live wire waiting to be tripped.
Drunk, angry, and dangerous.
Primed.