-Friedrich Nietzsche Feels like it’s still morning, I think. Hard to tell time from the trace of filtered light peekin... through tiny creases in the hotel’s blackout shades.I roll languidly across the bed and pull my phone from where it rests on the side table. The clock on the homescreen confirms, 10:18AM.I’m horny. No, what lies just beyond horny, aroused? Wet?I’m wet.No time to deal with that now. The phone goes back to the nightstand. I exchange it for a note. “Yes, that was, is a joke,” I chuckled as we reached the sidewalk to the high school.“Mike was a good hockey player, too. I’m sure he’d have no problem getting you up on a pair of blades, Zupena.”“You teach me to skate? I like that,” Zupena asked with a killer smile.“I guess I’ll be taking you skating one of these weekends, Zupena,” I said, which caused Tempe to squeeze my hand, and swing it a lot more vigorously than we were doing.“You and Liza come, too, yes?” Zupena asked Tempe.“We’ll try to. More

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