Days Inn- Lexington Park- Sunday night
Did you know that hotels outside of Fandom were a little wary of giving solitary seventeen-year-old girls rooms for the night? Because they were. Annie had discovered this, especially when she made it back to a hotel in Lexington Park around midnight. They really only gave it to her because she burst into tears when they told her no at first.
The plan was to catch a Greyhound bus to Denver today. The plan, like every plan since she'd left Fandom, did not work out. She'd gotten there too late to catch the bus, which meant that she had to book a ticket (and a surprisingly expensive one) for tomorrow afternoon, which should get her back home on Wednesday. So she was hanging out in the hotel she couldn't afford for another day, quietly freaking out about how she was going to manage this because it was easier than thinking about what might be going on in Fandom and WHY WAS THIS HAPPENING?
Which would be why she took some time standing in front of her bathroom mirror with her laptop out and her shirt half up, trying to figure out just where her kidney was with help from the Internet. You know, just in case it really did become a good idea to sell it on the black market. There'd probably have to be a lot of trips up and back to the ice machine, and would she be able to reach it herself? Maybe she'd have to call someone, but who?
Hypothetically, of course.
The plan was to catch a Greyhound bus to Denver today. The plan, like every plan since she'd left Fandom, did not work out. She'd gotten there too late to catch the bus, which meant that she had to book a ticket (and a surprisingly expensive one) for tomorrow afternoon, which should get her back home on Wednesday. So she was hanging out in the hotel she couldn't afford for another day, quietly freaking out about how she was going to manage this because it was easier than thinking about what might be going on in Fandom and WHY WAS THIS HAPPENING?
Which would be why she took some time standing in front of her bathroom mirror with her laptop out and her shirt half up, trying to figure out just where her kidney was with help from the Internet. You know, just in case it really did become a good idea to sell it on the black market. There'd probably have to be a lot of trips up and back to the ice machine, and would she be able to reach it herself? Maybe she'd have to call someone, but who?
Hypothetically, of course.