I was looking in a mirror, combing my hair and thinking of Quinn, when the bedroom door opened and mom walked in.“Turn that music down,” she said, then added in the same breath, “You’re not wearing that tonight, aren’t you?”“Did you forget to knock my door, mom?” I said “And what’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Or the music?”“They’re both morbid.” She replied, picking fluff from my jacket. “when I was 17, I played dance records and wore party clothes...
