She's holding an ocean of piss in the backseat and she's been silent for forty minutes. Three guys, just her. They're arguing about the playlist. They've driven past two petrol stations. Each time she wants to ask to stop, her face goes hot and her eyes fall to her lap.
Her bladder is bursting and she's been holding it an hour because he's the best date she's had in a year. He's still talking. She's still smiling. Under the table she's sweating. Her knees are locked together. She has no idea what he just said.
Her bladder is bursting with piss after she drank a whole bubble tea in line for the con like an idiot. A Ladies room sign is in plain view. But she's two hours deep and finally close enough to see the doors. She shifts her weight, foot to foot, and looks away from the sign.
She's holding an ocean of piss in the backseat and she's been silent for forty minutes. Three guys, just her. They're arguing about the playlist. They've driven past two petrol stations. Each time she wants to ask to stop, her face goes hot and her eyes fall to her lap.