Story of a Girl who grew up Lost and Loney

Penny spent an hour getting ready and making sandwiches. She made him two peanut butter sandwiches along with two meat and cheese sandwiches. He was too thin, in her opinion. And her desire to be nurturing and caring to everything around her shone through. She gathered several snack sized bags of chips, got them all in a bag slung over her shoulder, and made her way to the park. She put his sandwiches in a brown bag that read Billy, with a happy face, and a doodle that looked like him measuring liquid detergent.

She settled on a bench, playing with her laces on her shoes, smiling to herself, excited to see him. She glanced through her bag again, making sure she had enough to satisfy both of them. She nodded to herself, but realized she probably should have brought something more healthy than sandwiches and chips.

She had been careful to make his sandwiches as perfect as possible, cutting each of them diagonal and getting them in their own personal sandwich bags before getting them into the lunch bag she had drawn on.

Her bag had a doodle of her folding laundry. If you set the bags next to each other, it would look like they were doing laundry together, as the row of washers was drawn across to line up.

Penny had been laughing, nervous and awkward, at his urging. It died slowly as she realized that he was still pushing the spork into his thigh. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes focused on the plastic pushing into his cream colored pants.

She could feel the cold of the frozen yogurt through the styrofoam container. She stuck her spork into her yogurt and set it down on top of her dryer, carefully taking his hand with both of hers. She applied a small amount of pressure to his hand, to show she wanted him to pull back, to keep him from hurting himself.

She felt warmth in her chest as she touched his hand, and she tried to keep it out of her face as she raised her hazel eyes to lock with his. "Billy." she whispered, frowning to him. She was terrible at lying, and at hiding anything from her face, particularly her eyes. She looked concerned. Concerned for him. "I'm serious. You're going to hurt yourself." she whispered.

Her brows were drawn together and she had the beginnings of a pout on hr face. She applied a little more pressure to his hand, not looking away from his face, from his eyes, hoping that if she maintained the visual connection he would give in and remove the spork from his leg.