Harper and Natalie somehow snagged two adjacent Stairmasters, on which they now grimly climbed. “I saw my pretend boyfriend again this morning,” Harper said, her breath ragged and her face hot. “He put on a pair of huge pink sunglasses when he saw me.”Natalie dialed down her pace. “You’re not that bright.”“He was trying to make me laugh.”“Huh. So what does he look like?”“Yesterday I saw a video on Cute Overload of a baby otter floating in a pool, stacking cups together on its belly. And then I watched a trailer for the new Quentin Tarantino movie. He’s somewhere in between. He looks sort of exotic.”“If you can say all that and still exercise, you’re not at your peak intensity.”“Who cares. I’d rather tell you about my pretend boyfriend.”“Okay, so he looks exotic,” Natalie puffed, punching a button to further decrease her speed. “Like, Gael Garcia Bernal-exotic? Or Tony Leung-exotic?”“You’ve been watching too many foreign movies on Netflix lately.”“Well, which is it?”“Kind of like if Freddy Rodriguez and Christian Bale and that girl from Afghanistan with the green eyes—”
