WHOOOOO TREND. Me, Myself, and I, Crack, End of the Universe.
A sixteen-year-old displaying an acute lack of fashion sense* tears into Milliways with a copy of Cross My Heart And Hope To Spy in hand. It takes her a second for her brain to catch up with her eyes and send THIS IS NOT YOUR ROOM signals at her, at which point she stops just short of crashing into a table and gawps at the bar.
BWHUT, her face says.
She stares down at her book. It gives her no answers, and she briefly wishes she'd accidentally stumbled into a fictional bar at the end of the universe an hour ago, when she was still reading that third Alex Rider book.
After taking a few deep breaths for head-clearing, she proceeds to the bar to order a chocolate milkshake, because clearly a chocolate milkshake will make everything better and easier to understand.
*Faded yellow t-shirt, dorky shorts, old shoes, brown curly-frizzy hair in a braid, glasses.
BWHUT, her face says.
She stares down at her book. It gives her no answers, and she briefly wishes she'd accidentally stumbled into a fictional bar at the end of the universe an hour ago, when she was still reading that third Alex Rider book.
After taking a few deep breaths for head-clearing, she proceeds to the bar to order a chocolate milkshake, because clearly a chocolate milkshake will make everything better and easier to understand.
*Faded yellow t-shirt, dorky shorts, old shoes, brown curly-frizzy hair in a braid, glasses.