" No no no. This is a joke. I looked at him one more time. "No.Way." I was looking at him with amazement. "Yes, way. I came to pick you up." "Hey, you...lost privilege the day you left my mom. I'm going no where with you." I was about to leave when he grabbed my arm. I looked back. "Your mom and I have already talked about this. She agreed to hand you over." Hand me over? "My mom would never allow that," I scoffed. "But honey, she did." He flashed me a smug smile. I wasn't gonna win against this. In the middle of this busy store themakeup artist painted, powdered, and colored Brenda's face, explainingeach step so "he" would know how to do it in the future. When she wasdone I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. She highlighted some areaswhile toning down others giving me a perfect daytime look that I couldn'timagine doing myself.She sprayed a setting lotion over my face to keep it in place for atleast a couple days, she said. After paying a couple hundred bucks forall the makeup. More

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