Pacifica stared at the numbers scrawled hastily across the bottom half of the check, squirming uncomfortably in the slightly sticky vinyl seat of the diner booth as her eyes shifted back to the inside of her purse. A slim stack of bills poked out from the corner of her hot pink oblong wallet and a quick mental calculation brought her to the only possible conclusion.

I don't actually have enough to pay for this.

This wasn't a situation that she'd ever run across before in her life. She'd known, in a kind of abstract way, that the money she'd taken two weeks ago wasn't enough to last her forever but the fact that it was almost all gone this quickly was baffling.

For a moment she had just found herself completely bemused by the situation – it was almost like waking up one morning and discovering that she had grown an extra head in the middle of the night.

I'm broke. Like, almost completely broke.

I, Pacifica Elise Northwest, am now poor.

She glanced up around the restaurant and saw the other patrons quietly eating their breakfasts, waiters and waitresses moving silently between the tables like sour-faced ghosts. No one else seemed to have noticed her sudden revelation – actually nobody was paying her the slightest bit of attention, something she was still trying to get adjusted to even after a few weeks away from Gravity Falls. Inattentive as the staff was, she still knew that she couldn't sit here staring at the check forever. Eventually someone was going to want payment.

Are they going to throw me in jail? Am I going to get sent to prison over a rubbery omelet and a cup of the worst coffee I've ever had?

Oh my god they are aren't they?

I'm going to spend the rest of my life behind bars for a crappy breakfast!

She shook the rising tide of panic from her head and took a deep calming breath. It was just $12.95 – no one was going to throw her in solitary confinement for one hundred years over twelve dollars and ninety-five cents.

They can't even send me to real jail in the first place – I'm only seventeen. Minors don't get sent to prison.

She gave a sigh of relief.

So they'll just call my parents…

Any relief she'd felt before was now completely washed away by an even stronger wave of nausea and knuckle-whitening stress at the thought.

I wonder if I can cut a deal with them so that they would just send me to jail instead? It might not be so bad – I bet I could even pull off those gross orange jumpsuits pretty well.

Her eyes drifted up from the battered Formica tabletop and out the window where her car sat gleaming in the parking space close by the door.

Well, it's come to this I guess.

She fished around the depths of her purse till she found an eyeliner pencil and her car keys. She scribbled a quick note of apology on the back of the check with the makeup and after a moment of deliberation she reached up and unhooked the small gold-and-diamond earrings from her ears and folded them inside the note.

The jewelry was almost certainly worth much more than anything on the diner menu, but she had a sneaking suspicion that the waitress who had taken her order probably have objected to being paid in earrings instead of cash. It would have to do though – even if she was broke she wasn't going to be a thief.

Pacifica rose up from her seat on shaking legs and made her way toward the front of the restaurant with her purse clutched crushingly tight in her hand. The bored looking older woman behind the counter glanced up from her crossword and gave Pacifica a quizzical look as she neared the front door.

"Something the matter hon?" she asked, taken aback by the stressed expression on the girls face.

Crap. What do I say?

"Sorry!" Pacifica said, her voice coming out in a panicked yelp.

Before the cashier could ask what she was sorry about Pacifica was dashing out the door, her feet slamming hard through the parking lot gravel as she scrambled for her car.

There wasn't a single moment that could be pinpointed as the exact cause for Pacifica's decision to leave home – it had just popped into her head one day.

Why am I still here?

The idea had come as a surprise even to her as she had been lying awake at night in her overstuffed mattress listening to the weird howling calls of the peacocks stalking across the lawn. The idea that it was a choice was so new that it was almost frightening. Choices hadn't been a big feature in her life up to this point and she puzzled over the idea. Why was she here?

It was obvious that she was unhappy.

No, she thought, it's more than that.

I think I've almost never actually been happy.

Her relationship with her parents had never been as golden and sunny as the show they put on for the town, but ever since the night of the annual Northwest gala when she was twelve it had taken a very sharp downward turn. Her father, not used to being defied, had taken to acting as if she didn't exist at times when he didn't need her for a family photo opportunity for the papers. In some ways it was almost relaxing since she was left to her own devices most of the time, but it was also terribly lonely. Sometimes she even found herself missing the painful sound of the bell – at least when it rang it meant that he needed her for something or cared about what she was doing. She could have taken some solace in the fact that her mother hadn't treated her any differently, but since she had spent over half her life staring at a mirror and only seemed to acknowledge Pacifica's existence to compliment or criticize her outfits it wasn't a heavy dose of comfort.

She had broken a century-and-a-half old family curse and saved her home as well as dozens of people from being burned to death, and for her troubles she was treated like a pariah by her stubborn pigheaded father.

The thought sent a sharp pulse of anger through Pacifica's mind.

She had tried reaching out to him, but she may as well have been trying to befriend a statue. It had been almost five years since that night and things had never gotten better.

Well, in some ways her life had become slightly better – after that little adventure she'd made friends with the Pines twins and the time she had spent hanging out with them was always a welcome relief from the chill atmosphere of the manor. She had found herself counting down the days on the calendar whenever summer was drawing close for the time when she would get to see them again, feeling slightly pathetic for looking forward to their visits back to Gravity Falls so much. She couldn't help it though – it was like a breath of fresh air to be able to really let her guard down around someone.

Okay, so I don't like it here. What can I do about it?

The plan had begun to take shape almost immediately and she had slept more peacefully that night than she had in years.

She was twelve miles out of town before she stopped checking her rear-view mirror for signs of police pursuit. It took another ten miles before her heart had stopped its racing pulse and she was able to breathe calmly again. To Pacifica's relief it seemed that a semi-dine and dash wasn't worth calling in the police helicopters and starting up a manhunt.

This was the first time that she'd ever committed a crime… well, a real crime anyway. One that she could get punished for.

Sneaking onto the mini-golf course after dark as a child probably didn't count since the town had all but worshipped her family, and a little money here and there would have made any fuss disappear.

She didn't have that luxury anymore though.

Pacifica's eyes drifted out to the miles of highway stretching out before her and wondered, not for the first time, just what she was supposed to do now.

The first few days away from home had been exhilarating. There had never been another time in her life when she had felt like this - waking up each morning in a different town and spending her days however she wanted, not worrying about keeping up appearances or disappointing anyone. Of course that was back when she still had a nice large wad of money at her disposal – the result of saving a few weeks' worth of her usual allotment of pocket money. Even if her father wasn't speaking to her as often he couldn't let his daughter be seen going around town as poor as a commoner – that would have been an unacceptable breach of standards.

The money had run out faster than she'd ever expected after a week of staying at comfortable hotels and spending her money on amusements and she'd been forced to drastically cut back on her standards of living in the following days. The last motel she'd stayed at had been cramped and the rooms ground-in reek of ancient cigarette smoke had combined with the sharp smells of the detergents and cleaners used to sterilize it into something profoundly unpleasant. The whole place had an ugly atmosphere to it – a taint of secrets, desperate crimes & profound loneliness that seemed to seep into the skin just from being there.

If you upgraded the décor a little bit it would feel just like home, Pacifica had thought to herself sarcastically.

Terrible as that place had been though even that was out of her price range now. She could possibly get by a while longer by selling the rest of the jewelry she'd brought along, but even that was just a temporary solution at best.

Just where am I supposed to be going?

For someone whose life had been planned and regimented for as long as she could remember the uncertainty was paralyzing.

She spent half the night lying uncomfortably stretched across the backseat of her car parked in a stand of trees far off the main road. The night sounds of the woods had been unnerving at first, but at the very least she knew that out here she was probably safe from any policemen tapping her windshield and arresting her for vagrancy.

I wonder if my parents would even say anything if I went home?

Have they have even noticed I've been gone? They probably figured it out eventually if they started getting curious about why the house was so quiet lately.

It was a cold and miserable night, and as the sleepless hours dragged on she felt despair settle over her like a lead blanket. She couldn't live like this. Sooner or later she'd have to go home… she wouldn't be happy there but at least she wouldn't starve to death.

Her stomach growled at her in agreement and she found herself thinking wistfully of the mediocre breakfast she'd eaten hours ago.

I guess I should start heading home in the morning… it's not like I even went that far.

She struggled her way out of the back seat and opened up the glove compartment to fish out the travel map. It felt weird to be using something so old fashioned instead of a regular GPS, but she had left her phone back in her room at Northwest Manor so that she'd be harder to find. Pacifica squinted hard at the tiny lines in the dim light of the cars overhead lighting, trying to find just how far the last town she'd visited was from the main highway back to Gravity Falls. As she unfolded the creased paper a colorful cardboard square tumbled out and landed softly on her lap. She picked the object up, curious about it and felt a smile creep its way onto her lips despite her gloomy mood when she recognized it – a birthday card from Mabel and Dipper. She'd gotten it in the mail a few months ago around the time that her parents had given her the car in a big showy display in front of the rest of the townsfolk. Of the two presents the card had been her favorite by far - it was clearly handmade and absolutely encrusted with glitter, sequins and little plastic googly eyes for some reason. Just touching it always left her hands shiny for days no matter how hard she scrubbed them.

Her parents naturally didn't approve of her contact with the Pines, especially Dipper, and she'd kept the card hidden here where it wouldn't be 'accidentally' thrown out.

She felt her mood lift up slightly as she ran her fingertips along the ends of the card, flipping it open to read the inscription once again – a short goofy poem by Mabel written in a rainbows worth of colored pencils as well as a small but sincere sounding message from Dipper in neat lines of black ink.

I wonder if they miss me?

Flipping over the map revealed the envelope that the card had fallen out of and as she slipped it back into place she glanced at the return address and then at the map in her lap, the tip of her well-manicured nail idly tracing a line from Piedemont, California over to her present location.

It was far, but still closer than the drive back to Gravity Falls and she felt the spark of impulse she'd felt at the sight of the card start to grow stronger.

She gnawed her lower lip with indecision.

Should I?

What would they say? What would I say? What if it's super awkward?

She leaned back in the seat of the car, the internal debate raging in her head.

What the hell, she finally concluded, I can at least see about visiting them before I have to go back.

It would be nice to go somewhere where someone might be happy to see me.