As to be expected, Angie hasn't slept a wink all night.
Baggy eyes, ratted hair—proof that she spent the hours tossing and turning.
It's 9:47 when she finally decides it's time to check out.
Her bag is light; carrying it to breakfast is barely a hassle.
She slouches into the diner, unnoticed by the sparse customers.
The larger woman from before hands her a menu and guides her to a table in the back corner.
"What would you like to drink?"
"Coffee... and a water, please."
"Sure thing."
With nothing to do until noon, Angie sits in silence at the wooden table.
When the waitress returns with her drinks, Angie orders a waffle—enough to sustain her, but not more.
She fumbles with her hands, twisting them in thought.
It's been a long time since she's allowed herself this much introspection.
Steve was her grounding, her constant, and now he's gone.
Her hands clench harder, frustration bubbling up.
She throws her elbows onto the table and buries her head in her hands.
Tears prick her eyes again. She tries to breathe, to hold herself together.
This is all my fault.
You're not allowed to be upset.
You pushed him away.
You're useless.
This is all your fault.
The words repeat like a mantra until she can't take it anymore.
She jumps from her chair, stumbling away.
"You haven't even gotten your food yet, hun," the waitress calls.
"I'll be right back. I just... need some air," Angie mutters, surprised she can even form words. I need out! she thinks.
The air hits her lungs, shallow at first, then deeper.
Breathe.
Breathe!
She hasn't had a panic like this since she was a kid, and it's fierce.
One deep, shuddering breath later, she steadies herself and returns inside.
The only acknowledgment of her disturbance is the waitress quietly placing the plate on the table.
Angie mutters a thanks and nibbles at the waffle.
I'm fine.
I'm fine.
Don't be a baby.
You're fine.
By 10:30, she's still sipping her coffee and water, watching passersby through the window.
At 11:42, she pays, grabs her bag and change, and steps outside.
The meeting spot isn't far, just a few blocks.
Her best bet is to walk until she finds Jack McCain and climbs into the vehicle.
She begins mentally preparing for the journey.
YOU ARE READING
Angelica "Freak Two" Munson
Fanfiction"Hey, Harrington!" she reverses against her heel, flipping him the bird, "The names Freak Two, actually. If you're gonna insult me, you might as well do it right." ---------- Angelica Beatrice Munson, aka "Freak Two" is Eddie Munson's younger sister...
