Stephanie and Lula cruised down Route 1 in Lula's Firebird. The windows were down. The air was humid. The wind whipped through Stephanie's hair. It was growing by the the nano-second. Chia Pets had nothing on her hellacious hair.

Five in the morning was too early to go looking for a skip — especially one that would only bring in a couple hundred dollars to be split between the two of them. Damn this tip and damn this skip. Popeye the Blind. It wasn't that he looked like Popeye the Sailor Man. Nor did he have Arnold Schwarzenegger arms. Nope. He literally had a glass eye that he popped out of the socket to clean.

Stephanie gagged every time she thought of the eye. She hadn't even seen it yet, but the stories… Oh, the stories. They freaked her out every single time. She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans.

She needed to stall before she saw the creepy, one-eyed peeping Tom. She needed food and coffee in her stomach to absorb all of the morning bile that came from a long, liquor and pizza-rich night. She had less than three full hours of sleep in her system thanks to Les, Bobby, and Tank. They'd do anything to distract her these days. And, well, she'd do anything to not think or sleep…and those moments or hours before sleep came, in her very empty bed, were the hardest.

All her waking hours were filled with Lula and their skips.

Life wasn't so bad when she took stock of everything she had in her life, rather than what she lacked. But still…she was exhausted.

Coffee and cake were needed. Really, when did cake not fix the world's great problems? Cold War? Discuss it over a nice coffee cake. Russian meddling in the last election a topic on Christmas morning? Distract relatives with polar opposite political views with a Russian tea cake. Bringing together the Hatfields and McCoys at a wedding…cake had to have been served then, right?

"I think I'm going to get an Undertow," Steph said.

Lula glanced over at Steph from the corner of her eye. "Who you gonna get or give an undertow to?"

"Um…myself?" Stephanie said, turning to look at Lula, quirking an eyebrow.

"You can twist yo'self enough to do that?"

"What?" Stephanie turned in her seat to look at Lula.

"I mean, I thought humans had too many ribs to bend and twist like that unless they have some crazy condition…ya know, like their ribs are all jello-like."

Stephanie stared at Lula, her eyes squinted, her jaw hung open ever so slightly. "What are you even talking about?"

"Aren't you talking about some weird sex act?" Lula said. "You know I'll about self-love and all. Woman power! Boob up! But I think what yo' talking about is physically impossible."

"I'm talking about coffee from Starbucks!" If there was one thing Stephanie didn't want to discuss it was sexual acts with her reformed friend. "Maybe with a shot of vanilla."

"Coffee?" Lula scoffed. "You don't have to be so boring about it. Find yo' mojo again. Get back in the saddle. Find a bronco!"

Stephanie rolled eyes. "Just find me a Starbucks. I need some caffeine and cake, dammit!"