.." I know, I know..." I rolled my eyes. "You'll make me sorry I was ever born female." Something like that," he agreed, starting his scooter. "Hop on..."As soon as we flew off the platform, that little scooter dropped like a rock, leaving my stomach about fifty feet above us. It was kind of scary for a second, but fun as well, especially when we didn't hit the ground. Ruhk gave it some juice and we leveled off about thirty feet above the grass, coasting along at the posted speed limit in our. That first week Jack had to consciouslyclose his fists, when his fingers were idle, to avoid unconsciouspicking. It was driving him crazy - until his acquired obsession withthe nail file got up to speed. In those following weeks his newobsession didn't just grow - it spread. Nail filing begat cuticlemaintenance, which begat surface smoothing and buffing. In privatemoments he gazed at his fingers, splayed in a decidedly un-masculinefashion, admiring their appearance.But our story didn't end. More

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