Loggything: Penny and Clementine
Penny sat slouched on the sticky bench, too drunk to care that it was sticky. Her sunglasses on secretly glaring at everyone that walked by. Or not so secretly considering it wasn't just her eyes that were glaring, but pretty much resting bitch face too. She'd been ditched, and bounced, and some kid had been tromping around leaving chuck taylor footprints in her dreamscape and she didn't like it. It could have been worse and terrible and there could have been horrible things and truths and lies and bad memories running around, but still that was hers.
And she didn't like that she'd come all the way out here on a bus and two trains without calling to eat all of Cris' food and sleep all on his couch and be all up in his business and instead she was sitting on a sticky bench with hand sanitizer hair. Pfffffft.