Ohsweetbabyjesus, I’m wearing my ratty Sailor Moon T-shirt and ladybug pajama shorts and Starfield socks that come up to my knees. I look like…ugh. I am not dressed for company. Boy company. Any company at all, frankly.

I quickly cross my arms over my chest. Why’d I sling my bra onto the lampshade in the corner? Why did I think that was funny, like, two seconds ago?

“I—um—it’s not, I’m not—”

“Just let him in,” Jessica calls to me.

I open the door all the way. “Come on in. Don’t mind the mess or…”

He takes two steps inside before we both realize there’s a pair of my pink and white Superman underwear on the floor. Whether it’s clean or dirty, neither of us knows.

Why.

Am.

I.

Like.

This.

I grab the underpants and shove them into my suitcase, which is half-exploded over the left side of the room. “Don’t, uh, mind the mess. Don’t even notice. Just be blissfully ignorant of it all.”

And please don’t look at the lampshade.

“I think I can manage,” he replies cattily.

I find my cheeks heating up and avert my eyes to look at Jessica, who is now lackadaisically browsing through the pay-per-view channels on the hotel television. I hope she knows I have to pay for them. I begin to bite my thumb but she snaps her fingers at me.

“Nuh! No. That’s the first rule. No thumb biting. It’s gross and I never do it.”

I quickly take my thumb out of my mouth, though I don’t know why I’m listening to her. “It’s a nervous habit.”

“Pick another one. Second rule, always wear eyeliner. I’ll show you how to wing it. It’s one of my trademarks. Can’t be Jessica Stone without the trademarks.”

“But I don’t wear makeup.”

She rolls her eyes. “Are you one of those girls who thinks girls who wear makeup are vapid?”

Yes. “No.”

I can feel her disapproval.

“I don’t see the point of tricking people into thinking you have bigger lips or higher cheekbones,” I admit. “I just don’t think it’s worth the time, is all. Unless you’re cosplaying.”

She sits up on the bed and turns to face me. “Look, makeup is anything you want it to be. It can make you look like you have more defined features or more perfect skin, but to me it’s like armor. Eyeliner as lethal as daggers. Lips red like men’s heart blood. It’s more than a mask, makeup is protection in battle.”

“But what does Jessica Stone need to protect herself from?”

At that, she quickly glances away. “Rule three—”