Around 5:30 the next night I stood staring at myself in the mirror, just as I had before the first party. I was a little more sexed-up this time. I'd curled my hair, my gray eyes were lined heavily in black, and my pimple was completely gone. I thought I looked kinda hot. Maybe hot was an overstatement, but it was the best I was gonna look.

I arrived at Simon’s house around 6:00. I went in without knocking. Jackson was dragging a table from the garage to the living room.

"Let me help you with that," I said, approaching him.

"I'm fine," he said through clenched teeth.

"You're going to hurt your ribs."

"They ain't going to get any more broken. You look pretty; go see your boyfriend before I lose self-control."

"Can we talk first?"

He shook his head. "I'm busy," he said

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