Excerpt: How Airplanes Fly

“I'm Grace by the way. But never call me Grace. Call me Acie. I mean... do I seem like a Grace to you?” I opened the stall door and walked back over to the sink next to Grace. She plopped herself down on the counter. “I'm serious, do I look like a Grace to you?” I looked up at her.

Grace had long blonde hair that any ugly fifteen year old would die for and big grey eyes to match. She was tall, to make it an understatement, and her heels were not the bulk of it. Her long legs were clad in tan pantyhose and surprisingly she'd managed to achieve a tan to match it. What I would assume was usually unbearably white skin was covered in a light brown tan, not even a speck of orange to give away the tan's fake bake origins. As I surveyed her I thought to myself 'Yes, you do look like a Grace.'

“No. You don't look like a Grace.” I replied. She smiled back at me, not a genuine smile, but a kind of sad mischievous smile.

“That's a fuckin' lie.” She stated, her smile growing. And I laughed. She sat back a bit more, crossing her arms and legs, and surveyed me as I continued to laugh. “You know what? I like you.” She said bluntly. I smiled and tipped my invisible hat at her.

“Thank you. You're not so bad either Acie.”