The sound that starts off a snarl ends in a rough laugh. She shakes her head and drops down to a crouch, and from there to her ass. She pulls her knees up to her chest and sighs.

"Can't even do the alcohol part anymore. Hangovers and six year-olds are a bad combination." Her hand runs back through her hair, tugs free her ponytail holder, and then she fingercombs it through and pulls it back again. Something to do with her hands that isn't dig her fingernails into her shins.

"Besides," she says, voice kind of weirdly soft around the edges. "Getting drunk's only gonna to make me think about him more." He'd been hammered the night they both let themselves get caught.