I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. Dane is right, I look like hell. I ruined a lot of the meticulous preparation my roommate Haddie did on my hair and makeup for tonight. I grab a paper towel and try to wipe off my makeup to repair the damage. The tears have left my eyes amethyst red, and I do not need to know why my lipstick is no longer perfectly lining my lips. Parts of my brown hair are falling out of their clips and the stitching on my dress is terribly crooked.
I can hear the dull bass of the music on the other side of the wall. It plays in the background to the voices belonging to today's hundreds of potential donors. I take a deep breath and lean against the sink for a moment.
I can see why Dane questioned what had really happened and whether Mr. Arrogant had anything to do
