It was when Beth got the diner, that she finally noticed her pyjama situation. Some of the girls laughed, but others looked just as haggard as her and had no right to comment. Most of them were waiting until they had to be chipper to customers to even bother speaking. For a moment, Beth wished the girls that hadn't gone out could do the same; their shrill laughter made her brain ache even more. One of the girls popped a couple aspirin, and quietly offered them to Beth, which she graciously accepted. She really wished she could have finished her coffee.

Quickly after, Beth changed into her uniform. It wasn't the cleanest one she could have grabbed, but it was going to have to do. Then, she took a deep breath, and went to the front. If the giggles had been bad, the noise of the crowded diner sounded like she was standing in the middle of a twister. Every piece of chatter seemed to bounce off the walls and come back in her direction tenfold.

"Have fun last night?" Annabelle, whose dark eye circles were a mixture of both exhaustion and old makeup, asked as she passed Beth on the way to the counter.

"Yeah, from what I recall." Beth replied, slipping behind the counter, Annabelle following. "Not so much the morning."

Annabelle laughed. "Walk of shame to your own room?"

"WHAT…NO!" Beth fought to keep her voice down, then, in almost a whisper replied. "I told you it's not like that."

"Really?" Annabelle sounded more disappointed than anything. "And after all our hard work."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, sweeping you in Daryl's direction involved constant vigilance…and only to have to sleep in your own bed…"

Beth could have strangled her right then and there if she wasn't, again, mortified. That wasn't something she asked for; or something that was going to happen. She really thought she'd made that clear. But if she thought back to it, she could remember getting pushed in Daryl's direction several times the night before.

"Oh, come on." Annabelle nudged her. "It's better if you both admit it."

It was that moment, Beth gave up. Annabelle wasn't going to stop arguing with her about it, no matter how many times she shut it down; or how many times she slept in an appointed bed. She had no words for her that would work well in Beth's own favor, so she simply walked away.

"HEY NOW." Annabelle called after her. "You're gonna miss me when you're gone!"

Beth laughed to herself, remembering how close she was coming to actually leaving. Even after moving at such a fast pace every single day, the previous week seemed to have dragged on and on. But, in retrospect, in just a few days, the parts for her truck would be in, and she would be on her way home; and trying to forgive herself for the lies she'd piled on.

Maybe, one day, in a distant future, she'd even tell her mom the truth.

. . .

For that next week, Beth was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. It was funny, because while Daryl had assumed they'd be like two passing ships in the night they were anything but. Even if he was a ship, she was something of a whole different kind. Although she didn't leave a mess in her wake, she was like a hurricane, constantly whirling from one place to next without rest.

Beth worked hard on keeping up her side of their bargain and the house seemed almost unrecognizable with each passing day. Daryl didn't know if he had ever noticed the actual color of the walls or furniture, when not covered with a layer of grime. The only thing she didn't touch was his bedroom and the dining room table. He hadn't told her not too, but he appreciated she understood how personal those things were.

She even went above and beyond the expectations he had for her and he'd open the fridge box to find it filled with home-cooked food instead of take-out boxes. He didn't know how he felt being catered to in that manner; it almost felt like the stereotypical thing someone would do in a monogamous relationship. But her excuse was the recipes she was taught and memorized were definitely for more than one person…and her grits tasted a little better than any he had before. So, he accepted it as a platonic norm of living with her.

Aside from all the cleaning and cooking she seemed to thoroughly enjoy, she was kept herself busy with a list of other things. Although she'd taken a step back from stealing shifts at the diner that didn't stop her from leaving at all hours of the night with the screen door slamming behind her. Sometimes it was work, but other times it was social callings. Daryl only knew this because he'd see her at the bar, with all her new friends. When she was at her high points, well, every damn person wanted to be around her; and he didn't blame them, a smile and laugh like hers was contagious.

He couldn't help it himself either.

There was something about her, that made you feel special, when she was talking to you. It was as though menial things became so much more, and everything about it was easy and care free. Daryl would even catch himself forgetting that he'd seen her have multiple breakdowns, and that she carried a giant weight on her shoulders. But, he guessed that's how she wanted it. She hadn't had a single moment that looked like she was slipping since the night in the kitchen.

He'd thought she was pushing it all down and keeping too busy think about it. But, then again, she didn't seem to have an interest in tears ever since he told her it was no big deal. He got that she was trying to move on, or maybe finding herself again, or whatever; something cliché enough to be in a coming of age movie – but he really didn't mind it. And he didn't mind being around her.

Which is why, he would almost admit that he was a little disappointed to see a package full of engine parts on the doorstep of the shop come Friday.

. . .

She was by the river, when he went to go find her. It was just a little ways down from the house and she'd discovered that there was a patch of service she could use to call her mother. Her crazy, neurotic mother that she'd been so afraid of, that got them them where they were. He wanted to tell her about the parts coming in, and how if he worked hard enough, he'd have her on the road by Sunday. He wanted to see her face when he told her.

He didn't know he wouldn't get a chance to tell her though.

When he came up, her back was too him, but he could tell she was on the phone. He couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but from the tone of her voice, in didn't sound like a pleasant conversation. She was snappy, but choking down her words all at the same time – and it made him wonder if her cover had been blown. He got his answer soon enough though.

There was a lull in the conversation…or maybe she was being talked at…he didn't know. Then she let out a very audible sigh and her next sentence was very loud and very clear in meaning: "I'm not in Florida, Mom, and I'm not coming home."

With those words, she hung up the phone and turned around. Daryl could tell she was surprised to see him there, and wondering how much of the conversation he'd actually heard. He thought maybe she'd yell at him for eavesdropping, or turn back around and call back her mom to say she was just kidding. But, instead, as the surprise wore off, she looked at with her big doe eyes, and said something he would have never guessed in a million years…

AN: Hahahaha no it's not what you think.