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Description
I texted them from the QuantUmYeah parking lot and while they made their way from the beach, ambulances and police units were showing up. Fast response time! Apparently, during the near-crash, Quinton and Randee’s Q-Bits had registered their extreme stress and alerted the closest authorities and hospital. I guess the things work!

When the girls met me at Triz’s car, I gushed an apology. I told them I’d been so scared at the sight of the falling helicopter that I’d bolted like a rabbit, ducking behind vendor tables and making for the parking lot. I told them I was sorry to have worried them and they were welcome to make fun of me for being such a squeamish coward. (I hate lying to my best friends, but that’s part and parcel of being a superperson, I guess.)

Whether they bought it or not, we had had enough of the “billionaire beach barbecue” and headed for our various homes via Triz. She was still a bit processy, working through the rollercoaster of the afternoon’s events and not making a lot of eye contact with me. Ree, on the other hand, had shaken off whatever had been hanging over her and was now her old self. Maybe too much so.

Still burning through the adrenaline the “giant marshmallow helicopter rescue” had flooded her system with, Ree was now effusively (Word-A-Day!) praising Djinni whom she had just seen for the first time. She was going on and on about her (my) “scorching hotness,” specifically her (my) “golden, perfect super-ass.” All I could do was laugh (and blush), thinking how strange it was to hear my bestie praising my alter-ego with the same enthusiasm she had used for a porn star.

Strange, but ...not bad? Ugh, where’s my head at?

Description
I texted them from the QuantUmYeah parking lot and while they made their way from the beach, ambulances and police units were showing up. Fast response time! Apparently, during the near-crash, Quinton and Randee’s Q-Bits had registered their extreme stress and alerted the closest authorities and hospital. I guess the things work!

When the girls met me at Triz’s car, I gushed an apology. I told them I’d been so scared at the sight of the falling helicopter that I’d bolted like a rabbit, ducking behind vendor tables and making for the parking lot. I told them I was sorry to have worried them and they were welcome to make fun of me for being such a squeamish coward. (I hate lying to my best friends, but that’s part and parcel of being a superperson, I guess.)

Whether they bought it or not, we had had enough of the “billionaire beach barbecue” and headed for our various homes via Triz. She was still a bit processy, working through the rollercoaster of the afternoon’s events and not making a lot of eye contact with me. Ree, on the other hand, had shaken off whatever had been hanging over her and was now her old self. Maybe too much so.

Still burning through the adrenaline the “giant marshmallow helicopter rescue” had flooded her system with, Ree was now effusively (Word-A-Day!) praising Djinni whom she had just seen for the first time. She was going on and on about her (my) “scorching hotness,” specifically her (my) “golden, perfect super-ass.” All I could do was laugh (and blush), thinking how strange it was to hear my bestie praising my alter-ego with the same enthusiasm she had used for a porn star.

Strange, but ...not bad? Ugh, where’s my head at?