H.A.

Here are some handy acronyms I invented:

N.B. = not bad (“How are you?” “N.B.”)

B.I.T. = be in touch (“Are we hanging out tomorrow?” “Maybe. Let’s B.I.T.”)

T.G. = The Gap (“Where’d you get that shirt?” “T.G.”)

B.R. = Baskin Robbins (“I sure could go for a nice home cooked meal.” “I could go for some B.R. action.” )

B.H.9. = Beverly Hills, 90210 (“Do you like chillin like Dylan?” “Dylan from B.H.9.?” “No, Dylan Thomas.” “Oh.” “Just kidding, of course Dylan from B.H.9.” “Cool.”)

“Technically speaking,” Dylan said as he lifted the night black helmet off his head, “these are initialisms. Acronyms are when you pronounce the letters as a word, initialisms are when you pronounce each letter.”

“Make love to me,” Brenda replied. “Immediately.”

Dylan leaned in and kissed her hard on the lips. They embraced.

“Oh, Dylan,” Brenda moaned.

“Oh, Kelly,” Dylan moaned.

Brenda pushed him away and took a furious step back. “What did you just say?!”

Dylan moved towards Brenda, his eyebrows scrunched, his right arm out, pleading. “Nothing, Bren… nothing… Bren, don’t be like that.”

Brenda walked off in a huff.

“Brenda!” Dylan shouted.

Brenda paused briefly, before walking off without turning around.

Dylan got on his motorcycle and drove down to Baja to clear his head.