She might as well say, ‘Cali, go to bed or you’ll end up looking like Dag.’” She giggled. “Anyway, Mom’s heading down to the Analog and is...going to order coffee for everyone, so you need to be there in—let’s see—twelve minutes. ‘Bye!” With that she skipped off down the back stairs outside my door and was gone.Makeover? Oh. Yeah. Bring money. Damn.I read somewhere that on average women who have been dumped spend $800 on a makeover. When Hope left me and cleaned out my loft, I spent $12.95 on a. Wilson handed me a coke, gave her husband a glass of what looked like scotch and sat down on the couch with a glass of clear liquid in her hands."Which was why we agreed to take you." Mrs. Wilson smiled over at me."Huh?" I responded brilliantly."It's like this," Mr. Wilson laughed, "I know that you've probably been shoved from home to home, you've had to share rooms or been stuck in the worst room, any kid would be rebellious after that. I know, I've been there. Here's the proposition, you be. More

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