Sixteen
“Um,” I stalled, wishing I had any plausible excuse for saying no, “sure.”
“Great, I’ll be there in ten.” Kelly hung up before I could protest. Or disagree. Or agree, even.
Lurching off the stool, I dashed into the bedroom to change into something moderately more presentable than candy hearts pajamas. I was just slipping my pantyhose-clad feet into a pair of pumps when the doorbell buzzed.
Two and a half minutes later, I opened the door, tasteful makeup hastily applied and hair twisted up into a messy bun to hide the fact that I couldn’t find my brush.
“You look fabulous,” Kelly exclaimed as she burst into my apartment like an overfilled balloon. “You’d never catch me looking so glam on a home day.”
Ha, I snorted—unintentionally out loud—and earned a scowl from Kelly.
“No, r
