I started paddling toward shore. Donut sat there glowering, completely flattened out and soaked through. She had a piece of seaweed attached to her tiara. While she’d appeared almost majestic and fairy-like underwater, up here she looked like a dead rat that’d been resurrected and then run over by a garbage truck. “That was pretty awesome,” I said once it was clear we were safe from the sharks. “Go fuck yourself, Carl,” Donut said.
