"I don't look like Snooki, do I?" I asked her, grimacing.
"Of course not! You look hot!" She gleamed with pride. This monstrosity on my head was her doing.
My frown deepened and I stared at my red face in the mirror.
"Beileve me, he's gonna love it."
I forced a smile and asked her to go grab me my purse. As soon as she whipped around the corner, I shut the door and wiped off the eyeliner and lipstick slathered on my face. I zipped up the front of my "zip-all-the-way-down-" shirt that she had lent me, just in time for her to open the door.
She smiled at me again. She didn't notice the difference.
I grabbed my purse from her hand and slung it over my shoulder. My Mom called from the stairway
"Girls! It's time to go!"

She beamed at me again and we ran down the hallway, my left hand placed strategically placed on top of my head ****, as to keep it from sliding right off. My Mom threw us a look; we were already late. I ignored her and bounded down the stairs and out the front door.

Straight into the world of love, abandonment and heartbreak. The world that brought me here. Writing a short anecdote about it, with my hair poofed, makeup slathered, ready to go meet another "him."
I hope he likes it.