Fallout (Crank 3)

doesn’t seem to be my problem.

Keeping them? Nurturing them?

Definitely not my best thing.

AIR SHIFT COMPLETE

As I get ready to leave, I notice

the new part-time on-air girl

coming toward me. Woot. Girl?

Babe! I can’t help but check out

her long, bronze-skinned legs,

most of which are showing. Skirt.

Is. Short. She smiles at the way

I’m obviously drooling. Hi, Hunter.

“Hey, um …” Name? I know

her name. It’s, uh … “Shayna.”

The hall is narrow and as we

pass, her body whispers along

mine. Excuse me, she says in

a deep-water voice. Sorry.

“No problem.” I watch her walk

away, invitation in the exaggerated

sway of her hips. I could follow.

Set something up for later.

I could. But I won’t. I’d rather

stay mired in unrequited love.

TWO THIRTY-FOUR

I’ve got a half hour until

the plane arrives. Hope it’s on

time, or it might not arrive at all.

Another big storm is speeding

toward us. The roads just got