Fallout (Crank 3)

(Want—really want—him to think

about me in a sexual way? Weird.)

Hope he does, mostly

because putting me

and sex in the same

thought means he’s

got me, Autumn Rose

Shepherd, on his mind.

(Means he’s got me on his

mind in any way at all.)

I WISH I WAS SPENDING

Thanksgiving with Bryce. Just the two

of us, plus cornbread-stuffed turkey,

taters, gravy, cranberries, pumpkin

pie. Skip the green bean casserole.

Aunt Cora loves that stuff. Claims

it’s her specialty. Special? Uh …

Anyway, it’s my fantasy, so

excise the French cuts, smothered

in mushroom soup. Start with

Bryce and me nibbling each other

for appetizers while the bird

roasts and the pies cool

on the counter, perfuming

the kitchen with cinnamon and

nutmeg. Bryce leans me back

over the Formica … scratch that.

Fantasy, remember? Leans me

back over the shiny black granite,

kisses me. And not in a nice way.