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Chapter 9: Ford Grand

Karen steps in front of me, effectively blocking Orlando from my view. Within seconds, the medics descend on me, and I find myself poked and prodded all over. They don't seem to believe me at first that I didn't hit my head, but at least they don't insist on sending me to the hospital. Eventually, they admit that I've suffered nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises.

The moment they're done, Karen grabs me by the arm and guides me around the side of the building to the makeup tent. I twist around, trying to catch another glimpse of Orlando - that woodsy, manly scent of his still lingers in my nostrils - but I don't see him.

Why did I call myself Panty Girl? I lament as I'm dragged along. God, I hope that doesn't stick. If I was going to give myself a nickname, why didn't I pick something sexy? Or at least something that didn't sound like a kindergarten insult?

But he laughed, another part of my mind points out. And Ford says he never laughs. Surely that's a good thing?

Karen gi
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