weather in Reno is an
yak a hundred words a
exceptionally mixed bag).
minute, and I knew my
suspicions were accurate.
Those goody-goody girls,
flipping perfect cartwheels
and pert little ponytails,
most definitely accelerated
their metabolisms. The only
question was: how?
I Pondered That
while I picked out
my own underwear.
As I handed the saleslady
Mom’s credit card, someone
tapped my shoulder.
Hey, Bree. Can I see
your panties.
Chase! I tried to think
of a witty comeback,
managing mostly to look
like a stuttering fool.
“Uh-oh, uh—old or new?”
Either, or. Better yet, both.
What’s up? Where you been?
Like he’d been looking
for me since Wild Waters.
Like I’d been avoiding him.
You haven’t been avoiding me,