The Hotel Room (Phan)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next few days were full of a simple, shallow kind of happiness, the kind that barely scratches the surface of your being. There were too many words left unsaid between us, and was sure that we could both taste it in the tense atmosphere that engulfed us. It was as if some of our closeness, albeit a small part, but significant nonetheless, had evaporated- all because of that stupid, stupid woman.

“This hotel is horrible,” I grumbled one day as I stepped out of another freezing cold shower.

“Sorry, your highness,” Phil grinned, but his smile seemed empty.

I just couldn’t understand why he was suddenly being so tense around me. Phil was never tense. Phil was loud, bold, unpredictable, silly, energetic, childish and funny—but he was never tense. I’ve known him for years now; how can something as small as this have changed all that?

At the end of our four days at Disney, on the fifth day, I woke up of my own accord for once- Phil’s obnoxious alarm not being the catalyst. And that was because Phil wasn’t there. He’d probably gone off for breakfast, without me. The thought shouldn’t have stung as much as it did. Couldn’t he  just have waited an extra hour or so?

I stretched my limbs and literally rolled out of bed, landing in a heap of duvet and teddies (I should state that all of the teddies but one were Phil’s- I did say he was childish!) I breathed in his familiar smell for a fraction of a second, revelling in the familiarity- the feeling of home.

I snap out of it quickly, though.

About half an hour later I’d found a crumpled shirt and denim shorts to wear, I’d straightened my hair (using Phil’s straighteners because mine are seriously crap) and I was ready to go for breakfast. The hotel room felt lonely-empty-without Phil, and I was eager to get to The Ponderosa, where we normally went for breakfast, having learnt on our first day that the hotel only served soggy cereal and stale ‘breakfast biscuits’. The Ponderosa was a tourist trap, probably a bit out of our price range, but the pancakes that they served were to die for...so neither of us were complaining.

I was wondering yet again why Phil would have left me as I quickly walked down the stairs, flashing a smile that turned out more like a grimace at the receptionist before steeping out into the car park, wincing at the sweltering heat. As I’d expected, our car was gone and I was going to have to walk there.

“Dammit,” I muttered as I set off.

It wasn’t a long walk, but ten minutes later I was cursing  the American principle of apparently only having four ‘sidewalks’ in their entire country. I have enough trouble just walking around without dying in England! Another thing I kept badmouthing under my breath was the system of traffic, which seemed determined to kill me.

“Shit!” I yelped, as yet another (and hopefully the last) car flew past me, missing me by inches.

“Mind your language!” the driver shouted.

“Mind your driving!” I yelled back.

***

“Hi, Phil,” I said cheerily, plopping down next to him. “Having fun without me?”

“I meant to wake you up,” Phil muttered shiftily.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah...but you looked really...cute. Asleep, I mean...” Phil mumbled.

“Phil, I look cute all the time! You could’ve woken me up! Or at least waited for me!” I winked.

“Oh, shut up,” he replied, flicking maple syrup at me.

“You love me really, Phil,” I batted my eyelashes at him.

“Oh, do I really?”

“Yes, you do. You told me,” I pouted.

“Of course I love you, Dan. Who wouldn’t?”

“Good. Now give me pancakes,” I ordered.

And just like that, everything felt right again.