"Aren't you done yet?" I heard Amsey yell for the umpteenth time.

"I'm coming!" I yelled back, trying to hook the buttons on the wrist area of my shirt.

"That's what you've been saying for the last 45 minutes." He said, sorry; yelled.

"Quit exaggerating." I said, laughing.

"I'm not. But what the hell are you putting on your face? Why do women waste time on makeup? Besides, makeup wouldn't change you from being the ugly masquerade that you are. It'll even make you look ...