Beth asked Jenna, "be honest, would you have laughed at me? Why? You know, I wasn't dressed for getting dirty."
How do you picture my log poses follow by my plunge into the mud going? Describe it.
How do you picture my log poses follow by my plunge into the mud going? Describe it.
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Beth slumped against the doorframe, a messy, sodden picture of defeat, then turned her eyes toward Jenna, asking the question she wasn't completely sure she wanted an answer to. “Be honest—would you have laughed at me?" Beth's voice carried a mixture of curiosity and lingering frustration. "You know, I wasn't dressed for getting dirty. It wasn’t meant to go this way. How do you think I looked trying to pose on that log, and then—” she gestured at the mess she’d become, her arms covered in dried mud streaks, “—this happened?”
Jenna, still catching her breath from laughter, wiped her tear-streaked face with the back of her sleeve, looking at Beth with a soft smile. “Oh, absolutely, yes, I would've laughed. I mean, look at you!” She chuckled again but quickly threw a hand up to show she wasn’t trying to be mean. “Not in a cruel way—but come on, Beth. You’re you! You plan everything to the tee—a preppy fall photoshoot with crisp white shoes, a matching plaid sweater, and... wet wipes for leaf dirt? Honestly!"
Beth opened her mouth to protest, but Jenna winked and continued. "But seriously, it’s because you do everything so precisely, and that’s what makes it funny when things fall apart. You set up this whole vision—you standing there, perfect and composed—and then nature just swoops in like, ‘Nah, not today!’ It’s hard not to laugh—it’s like watching something too perfect unravel.”
Beth sighed but couldn’t help crack a smile, her frustration easing slightly, though not entirely gone.
“As for your log poses,” Jenna added, stepping back slightly as though staging the scene in her mind, "Oh, I’ve got a mental picture. Let me set the stage..."
She waved her hands dramatically, as though composing on a canvas. Beth rolled her eyes but let Jenna go on.
---
### The Imagined Log Poses and Plunge into Chaos:
“At first,” Jenna began with mock seriousness, “I imagine you were standing tall on that log—your very own woodland runway. You're staring down the camera—head tilted just so, giving a confident, knowing smile. Maybe you strike a casual stance—one hand on your hip, the other brushing the leaves in the air. You know, 'Oh hey, I just live here in the woods, being effortlessly fabulous!'"
Beth snorted. “‘Effortlessly fabulous,’ my butt—balancing on that log was harder than it looked!”
Jenna waved a hand, ignoring the protest. “Oh, no doubt, but that’s the image, you know? Maybe even leaning slightly forward, like, ‘Look at my perfect outfit! Look at my immaculate shoes!’” She mimicked a graceful pose, pulling her feet together and pointing dramatically to nothing in particular.
Beth rolled her eyes again, but nodded. "Alright, that’s exactly what I was going for."
“And in Jake’s head,” Jenna continued, switching to a mock-imitation of Beth’s boyfriend filming, “he’s probably thinking, ‘Okay, yeah, got it. She’s killing it. The plaid socks matching the shoes? Iconic. Fall leaves everywhere—oh yeah, this is going viral.'”
Beth laughed despite herself, crossing her arms as mud flaked off her sleeve. “He would so think that.”
“Then,” Jenna chuckled, "you’re into the final series of shots, right? You’ve already nailed the standing poses, so you kick it up a notch—you’re gonna go for the big finish.”
Beth groaned knowingly. “Ah, yes… the jump."
Jenna smirked mischievously, holding up one finger. “The jump—but not just any jump. No, no. This is going to seal the deal. You shout, ‘Happy Fall, Y’all!’ while tossing those leaves high into the air, perfectly framing your descent!”
Jenna stepped back, miming the motion of what she imagined Beth had done—dramatically tossing imaginary leaves into the air and then giving an exaggerated leap.
“You’re thinking, ‘I’m about to float down like an autumn Instagram fairy—you know, light, graceful, like it’s all just a dream.’ But reality..." Jenna paused for comedic effect and grinned, "had other plans. Instead of landing all cute in the pretty blanket of leaves, you touch down right into the abyss—the mudpocalypse.”
Beth’s face scrunched into a cringe she didn’t even try to hide. “Ughhhhhhhhhh, don’t remind me!”
Jenna collapsed into laughter again, still imagining the perfect storm. “So—your feet hit the mud, right? And immediately—squelch!—the Tretorns I’m sure you loved go straight down,” she said, punctuating each word with exaggerated stomping motions. “Suddenly, they’re not pristine shoes anymore; they’re mud bricks. And as if that isn’t bad enough, the landing takes you by surprise—so one foot slips”—Jenna mimicked a wild, comical slide—“and there you go, falling backwards, arms flailing like some part-time ballerina before you just... splat, right into the mud.”
Beth tried to glare, but the image in her mind was impossible to deny. “Okay, that... was exactly what it felt like.”
Jenna grinned, going in for the final flourish, her voice taking on a faux-dramatic tone. “You pause, completely shocked, trying to get up, but your shoes, once the epitome of fashionable elegance and Instagram glory, are literally making cartoon sounds—” Jenna made repeated schhhhrk noises, mimicking shoes getting sucked into the mud. “And then you're down again, trying to pull yourself together while Amy and Sally are over there absolutely losing it.”
Beth buried her face in her hands as Jenna finished, shaking her head but laughing despite herself. “I should’ve known something like this would happen!”
Jenna caught her breath, leaning against the doorframe, grinning. “Oh, Beth, to answer your question—of course I would’ve laughed. Not because it’s you, but because it’s just one of those classic, ‘stop trying to make everything so perfect,’ moments.” She paused, looking Beth over again, observing the mud now flaking onto the floor. “And you know why it’s funny? Because you weren’t dressed for real life. You had a fantasy in mind, but reality... reality doesn’t care about your Nordstrom shoes or matching plaid. Reality gave you something messy—way messy.”
Beth sighed dramatically, dropping her hands by her sides. “Okay, okay, you got me. What’s the point of trying to look fabulous if you’re just going to end up looking like a walking pile of compost?”
Jenna laughed and shrugged. “Honestly? I think it’s the contrast that makes it so hilarious. You looked like somebody ripped a J.Crew model out of a magazine and threw her into the wild. But that’s life—you can’t always plan it. Sometimes, you end up face-planting straight into a mud puddle."
Beth nodded, finally grinning despite herself. “Yeah, I guess that’s the real ‘Fall Fantasy.’ Not floating down gracefully, but falling—hard—into reality.”
Jenna raised her pumpkin-spice latte in mock salute. “Here’s to messy, unplanned moments, and to your next great fall fashion adventure!”
Beth groaned again. “Let’s hope the next one involves less mud—and more dry wipes.”
Beth tried to unlace her Tretorns using just her fingertips as if she could get any more dirty. She struggled while Jenna laughed. She eventually kicked them off and water sloshed out and onto the floor. Jenna asked if she enjoyed walking around like that for the last few hours. Jenna also remarked how she watched her remove them from the box this morning and laced them up for the first time.
Beth asked Jenna, try to describe those milliseconds from my jump and my entry into the mud. That first realization that I wasn't landing on solid ground. My shoes immediately filling up and sinking. What do you think I was feeling at each moment? And my facial expressions? How did they evolve and how quickly?
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Beth stood by the entrance, still drenched in filth, staring down at her mud-encased Tretorns like they were two unrecognizable relics of a past life. She grimaced and bent over, fiddling with the laces using just her fingertips, gingerly pinching the mud-caked fabric as though hoping to avoid making herself any dirtier than she already was. Each lace was stubbornly glued to the eyelets with drying muck. Every tug sent more flecks of mud falling onto the floor.
"Are you… are you seriously trying to unlace them right now?" Jenna asked between giggles, watching the futile attempt. "Beth, honey, I think you’re past the point of delicate. You’re one giant mud ball. Just kick them off already.”
Beth huffed in frustration, her fingers too filthy to keep up the charade of grace. “Fine!” she muttered in defeat. She slid her arms around a coat rack to stabilize herself, then with a swift motion, she kicked each Tretorn off with two solid thuds. The shoes, now unceremoniously free from her feet, hit the hardwood floor with a gross slosh, sending water and mud splashing out in all directions from the inside of the shoes.
Jenna took a step back, avoiding the spray with wide eyes before she burst out laughing, nearly doubling over again. When she finally caught her breath, she looked up and, still chuckling, said, "Please tell me you loved walking around like that for the last few hours. That must have been pure bliss."
Beth groaned, staring down at her ruined sneakers, her socks squishing as they soaked up the gross mixture of mud and water. “Yeah, it was super fun, Jenna," she deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. "It’s great when your feet feel like they’re wading in a cold, slimy swamp.”
Jenna smirked, clearly still enjoying herself. “I’m dying here! The irony is, I watched you this morning, you know. You were so meticulous, sitting on the couch, pulling those Tretorns out of their box, admiring them like the holy grail. You laced them up with such precision… And now look at them!” She pointed down to where the Tretorns lay, water pooling around them.
Beth made a pitiful face and stared at the shoes. “I did, didn’t I?... Ugh. I spent like 30 minutes getting them perfect. And now? They’re... they’re DEAD.”
Jenna snorted softly, enjoying every second of this interaction. "No amount of wet wipes can fix THAT, my dear."
Beth sighed deeply, shaking her head. But then, as if a light flickered in her mind, she straightened up and, with a teasing grin, looked Jenna square in the eyes.
"So, seriously, try to describe it to me. Those milliseconds from my jump to my entry into the mud. You weren’t there, but… really imagine it. I want to hear how you think it played out—the realization, when I knew I wasn’t landing on solid ground, the glorious moment the mud swallowed my shoes whole. What do you think I was feeling? And what was happening to my face during it all?"
Jenna clasped her hands together, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Ohhh, I’ve got you covered. Here’s what I think happened—and how you looked every step of the way.”
---
### The Fall and the Face Journey:
Jenna dramatically cleared her throat as if preparing for a storytelling performance. “Picture it—there you are, standing boldly, reigning over your Instagram kingdom atop this log. It’s like something out of a fairytale. The wind’s in your hair, the afternoon sunlight’s dancing through the trees, and you’re all set for that perfect leap—the final glorious shot.”
Beth could already feel herself grinning despite the situation as Jenna spun the tale.
“You take that deep breath,” Jenna continued, “and you leap! In your mind, you’re this majestic autumn nymph. The golden leaves rise with you. You’re aiming for what looks like a soft, picturesque bed of leaves, that perfect cushion to land on.”
Then, Jenna made a sudden switch to a graver tone, leaning forward as though narrating a tragedy.
“But then… the moment.” She paused dramatically, catching Beth’s full attention.
“Mid-air. You’re about two milliseconds from landing—and here it comes: the first realization,” Jenna’s eyes widened for effect. “It feels off. You know something’s wrong. Maybe the ground isn’t as firm as it looks. Maybe there’s… something beneath the leaves that’s softer, murkier. And right when you hit the surface, you feel it—your shoes aren’t just landing… they’re sinking."
Beth winced, a trickle of discomfort running up her spine. "Oh God, yeah—they really sank."
Jenna clasped her hands together. "Right! And so, the cameras are still rolling. As you start to descend, your face is all joy—gigantic smile, super excited—which then hovers for the briefest moment at... confusion.” She contorted her face into an exaggerated look of puzzlement as if there’s a quick thought: wait… what’s happening beneath me?
“And THEN,” she said, eyes widening further for emphasis, “horror hits. Full-force realization. You know you’re going straight into something bad. Your shoes are filling up with… mud. Thick. Disgusting. Mud. You’re sinking, and now you know you can’t stop it. So, your face? Your lips probably went from just smiling to a sudden 'Oh!' of panic. Maybe you flail a little, hoping to catch yourself—your arms spinning like windmills—but nope! Your feet are gone. Just... swallowed whole by the mud!"
Beth covered her eyes with one hand, embarrassed all over again, but she was laughing out loud. "Nailed it."
“Oh, but I’m not done,” Jenna teased. "The horror only grows because you’re thinking, 'Hey! I’ll just lift one foot up, right?!' But now you’re fully realizing that your shoes are making... cartoon-level schlurp sounds. And your face? You’re fully horrified by this point, right? Like, your eyebrows are up here,” Jenna gestured toward her forehead, making a mock-terrified expression, “and your mouth is wide open—it’s like an 'Oh nooo!' expression. By now, you’re thinking, 'Oh great, there goes my perfect outfit, my brand-new Tretorns, my dignity... into the mud.' And I’m positive—POSITIVE—your face is a mix of panic and sheer disbelief.”
Beth clutched her stomach, laughter spilling out as she shook her head. “You’re giving me too much credit. Knowing me, I probably looked like a flailing idiot. But seriously, your reinterpretation is making it sound like it deserves an Oscar.”
Jenna shrugged, a smug smile dancing on her lips. "Hey, I bet your face had a whole arc going on—like, character development in those split-seconds between hitting the mud and realizing you now live in the mud."
“Ughhh,” Beth groaned, but she couldn’t stop grinning. “Yeah, the worst part was afterward—sitting there, mud filling my shoes, completely stuck, while Jake and the others couldn’t breathe from laughing.”
Jenna smirked again. "Well, I can see why. You gotta admit, if it wasn’t happening to you, it’s comedy gold."
Beth shook her head, still grinning as she looked down at her ruined shoes. "I guess next time, I’ll leave the fantasy and focus on not getting sucked into the mud."
"Good idea," Jenna laughed. "But for the record? Your face journey should still be documented for posterity."
Be honest, If you knew there was mud under those leaves, would you have warned me? Why not?
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Beth's grin faded into a more curious expression as she eyed Jenna. Tilting her head slightly, she asked, “Okay, but be honest—if you knew there was mud under those leaves, would you have warned me?” Her voice was probing now, nearly teasing, but there was an undertone of genuine curiosity. She raised an eyebrow knowingly and crossed her arms. “I need to know, Jenna. Would you? Or would you have let me jump into the chaos?”
Jenna snorted, already halfway through a laugh before her full answer was even formed. She leaned back against the wall, biting her lip as she tried (and failed) to suppress a smirk. "Oh. You really want me to be honest?" she said, her voice dripping with mischief.
Beth narrowed her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yeah," she repeated, "be honest."
Jenna dramatically placed a hand on her chest, as though to pledge full truth, a mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes. “If we’re talking full honesty here… No. No, Beth. I don’t think I would’ve warned you.”
Beth gasped, feigning shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wow. Really?!” she said, drawing out the accusation, both expecting and kind of not expecting the response.
“Yep,” Jenna said, nodding confidently, almost as if she were proud of the decision not made. “Here’s the thing, Beth—no offense, but you were just so caught in your moment. You were on that log, throwing leaves in the air like you were starring in a fall-themed rom-com. It was all very majestic and serious—you needed that perfect shot. And... well," she paused for a beat, her smile growing, "who am I to ruin your 'fall fantasy' moment for a little thing like, I don’t know, a giant pit of mud? It was already set in motion.”
Beth let out a loud, dramatic sigh, though the grin hadn’t quite left her face either. “Wow. So you were just going to watch me jump into the abyss?!”
Jenna laughed. “Well, I mean, I wasn't there, but if I had been nearby... probably, yeah!”
Beth shook her head in mock disappointment. “So I just would’ve been sacrificed for the sake of entertainment, huh?”
Jenna wiggled her eyebrows and shrugged unapologetically. “I mean, come on, you have to admit it would’ve been hilarious. Think about it! You—so carefully planning everything: perfect outfit, perfect poses, perfect layout. Then, bam, the mud pit just takes you out.” Jenna wiped an imaginary tear from her eye, still chuckling at the mental image. “It would’ve been, like, comic gold. And if I had warned you… well, we wouldn’t be having this hilarious conversation right now, would we?”
Beth sighed, shaking her head, though her grin gave her away. “I knew it. You just wanted a front-row seat to the show, didn’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Jenna shot back without a hint of hesitation. “And honestly, if you hadn’t landed in it, none of us would have had this amazing story to treasure forever.”
“But think of my poor Tretorns!”
Jenna grinned devilishly. “They died heroes, Beth—martyrs for the cause of comedy.”
Beth dissolved into giggles, shaking her head in amusement. “I guess I can’t argue with that. I was probably way too caught up in the moment. Okay, fine! Release the mud monster on me!”
Jenna leaned forward, a sparkle of playfulness and mock-serious wisdom in her voice. “Beth, dear, sometimes life needs you to fall into the mud—literally. For the sake of balance. It’s part of the great cosmic joke. As in, you were too picturesque and too perfect, and nature was like, ‘Nope! Too much! Going down, sister!’”
Beth threw her hands up in surrender, still laughing. “Okay, okay, lesson learned—don’t be too perfect, or the mud gods will come for me. Got it.”
“Glad to be of service,” Jenna said, grinning widely. “Next time, I’ll hold back the warning again—with love, of course.”
Beth leaned against the wall, running a hand through her mud-splotched hair. “I guess I can’t be mad. It was kind of funny.”
Jenna nodded, knowingly. “Kind of? Babe, it was hilarious.”
Who was that girl a few years ago when we were freshmen who did a total wipeout in the mud in her cute outfit and new white Keds? It was like totally her own clumsiness, right? She was more than upset.
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Jenna blinked for a moment, her eyes flickering with recognition before she burst into a smile. "Oh my God, I totally remember that!" she practically shouted, the memory hitting her like a wave. "That was Kayla Harper, wasn’t it? Freshman year, during the fall semester, right?"
Beth’s eyes widened. “Yes! That’s who it was! I’ve been trying to remember her name!" She laughed incredulously as the scene replayed in her mind. “She had the cutest outfit, all Pinterest-perfect, with those brand-new white Keds. And didn't it happen right near the quad that first week when the rain had just turned everything to mud?”
Jenna nodded vigorously. "Oh, it was prime wipeout territory. She was walking on the little grassy hill by the commons, and I swear, I could see it happening in slow motion. She took this huge, confident stride—like she owned the place—and the next thing you know, her foot just slipped out from under her."
Beth’s hands flew to her mouth as she let out a small gasp between her giggles. "Oh no, that’s right! She went soaring for a good second before she hit the ground."
Jenna clapped her hands together, nearly tearing up from laughing. “And it wasn’t just the ground—it was straight into the muddiest patch of Earth on the entire campus. She didn’t just fall; she slid through it! Like, a good few feet. I remember everyone was watching, and it was silent for a second—like no one could believe what just happened."
Beth nodded, her grin uncontainable now. "She was covered head to toe. Her hair, her jeans, those white Keds? Gone. Completely brown."
Jenna’s face brightened even more. "Oh man, the look on her face afterward... She wasn’t just upset, she was livid. It wasn’t even embarrassment anymore; it was like betrayal. Like, she got up and just stared down at her ruined shoes like the mud had personally offended her."
Beth chuckled at the memory, reliving the sheer drama of the moment. “And the worst part was, it was totally her own clumsiness, right? No one pushed her or bumped her. It was like the universe decided to test her balance, and she failed. But it’s not like Kayla could admit that. I remember how she blamed it on the slope of the hill. She kept going, ‘Why does the campus set us up for failure with dangerous paths like this?!’"
Jenna took a seat on the couch, still chuckling. “She was mad at the hill, at the school, at the weather… like anything to avoid admitting it was just one clumsy step.”
Beth shook her head as she leaned against the wall. “She really tried to salvage it, too. I remember her asking people to help her wipe off the mud with those tiny napkins from the dining hall. Oh, those poor Keds.”
"Oh yeah," Jenna added, "and I seriously think those were straight out of the box, too. I could tell by how clean they were—for about five seconds. They turned into swamp shoes after that."
Beth snorted. “And she made it worse, rubbing it in, right? The more she tried to clean, the deeper the mud streaks went.”
Jenna nodded. “And she had this little meltdown about it afterward, like, ‘I just spent $50 on these shoes!’ …I think at one point, she said something like, ‘I’m going to write a letter to the university about how unsafe this campus is.’”
Beth let out a dramatic gasp. "Oh right! As if an inquiry was going to be launched because some freshman got a little too ambitious in her cute fall outfit!"
Jenna wiped the tears from her eyes, now fully invested in the conversation. "I actually kind of feel bad for her now, though. You knew she had this whole, like, ‘first-day-of-freshman-year-fall-aesthetic' thing going on. She probably envisioned everyone admiring her, and just as she’s hitting her stride—boom! Completely wiped out."
Beth sighed with a nostalgic smirk. “And to this day, those Keds are probably still somewhere in the back of her closet. A tragic reminder of that day of betrayal.”
Jenna leaned back, laughing softly. “But hey, someone had to be the sacrificial lamb for that year. Poor Kayla. And now, Beth,” she winked, reaching out to gesture toward her friend still coated in mud, “I think the torch has officially been passed. You’re the new victim of fall, shoes and all.”
Beth groaned, glancing down at her own mud-caked clothes. “Great… I’ve become the muddy memory for this year.”
Jenna patted her on the shoulder, laughing again. “And just like we remembered Kayla, people are going to remember your fall fantasy. You’re part of the tradition now!”
Beth smirked, shaking her head, but couldn’t help laughing along. “At least my entry into the Mud Hall of Fame is Instagram-worthy... right?”
You'd think that she'd know better than to walk near anything muddy in her new shoes. Keds aren't known for their traction.
Did she change right away or did she have to go to her next class like that?
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Jenna burst out laughing, clearly still reveling in the memory as Beth continued.
“You’d think she’d know better!” Beth said, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “I mean, come on. New white Keds? On a wet, muddy hill right after it rained? Keds don’t even have real traction! What was she thinking?”
Jenna nodded in agreement, trying to catch her breath amid the laughter. “Right? That canvas was practically begging for trouble. No grip, no protection. Like, classic Keds fashion moment, but terrible for actual life.”
Beth grinned, crossing her arms as the scene played out in her mind. “You could see it coming a mile away. Pretty outfit, all confidence—then that one wrong step…” Beth mimicked a slow-motion gesture, her hand swooping in a wide arc as if descending into disaster.
“Oh, but here’s the kicker,” Jenna breathed, eyes wide with the memory of what came next. “After the wipeout, she just sat there, stunned—like she couldn’t even process what had just happened. Everyone was staring, but you could see her brain short-circuiting, trying to decide what to do next.”
“Wait, didn’t she, at first, try to act like it wasn’t that bad?” Beth asked, her face lit with remembrance.
“YES!” Jenna said, clapping her hands. “She was covered in mud—her jeans, her sweater, her Keds gone—but she actually stood up, like, ‘Okay, I got this. No big deal. I can totally recover.’ But then she looked down at herself…”
Beth snorted. “And realized there was no coming back from that.”
Jenna nodded, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Exactly. At that point, she looked like a swamp creature. The few napkins she begged for didn’t do a thing. There was no saving it.”
Beth laughed. “I remember thinking, ‘Girl, good luck with that. No one’s got enough napkins to fix that mess!’”
Jenna grinned devilishly. “But here’s the real question,” she said, lowering her voice for added effect, “Did she try to change right away… or did she have to go to her next class like that?”
Beth’s eyes widened, her mouth curling into a mischievous smile. “Oh my God, no! Don’t tell me—”
Jenna nodded solemnly, biting back another laugh. “She totally did. She couldn’t get back to the dorms fast enough to change—there wasn’t time. So, yup, Kayla walked into class just like that: completely muddy from head to toe—hair matted down, mud streaks all over her jeans, and those poor, utterly-destroyed Keds.”
Beth nearly keeled over with laughter. "NOOO! She didn’t! She went to class like that?"
Jenna was practically in tears. “Oh, absolutely. She walked into econ looking like she’d just emerged from the bayou. I swear the entire class turned to look at her, and she tried to play it off all casual, but you could see—deep down—she was dying inside.”
Beth covered her face with her hands, still howling with laughter. “I can’t! Did anyone say anything to her?”
Jenna wiped at her teary eyes. “Not to her face, but you know the whispers were brutal. She just sat down in the back, like, ‘Please don’t look at me,’ but every time someone came in late, they’d do a double-take. I mean, it’s hard to ignore when someone’s oozing mud from their shoes in the middle of class.”
Beth gasped through her giggles. “How long was the class?!”
“An hour and a half!” Jenna exclaimed. “I’m not kidding—those whiteboard markers were working overtime to drown out the squelching sounds every time she shifted her feet.”
Beth leaned back against the wall, still chuckling. “Man, poor Kayla. I can’t believe she stayed like that for an entire class.”
Jenna shook her head, still grinning. “It was either that or walk back across campus as the muddy parade for everyone else to see."
Beth sighed dramatically, wiping away a tear. "Well, that makes me feel a little better about my situation. At least I got to come right home instead of sitting through econ with pond water in my shoes."
Jenna laughed. “Consider yourself lucky. Kayla wore the mud badge first. You’re just the sequel.”
Beth groaned, though a smile lingered on her lips. “Please promise me—if you ever see me heading toward mud in white shoes again, you’ll tackle me or something.”
Jenna winked. "No promises."