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attack.
    Eventually I got out of the car. I decided that maybe it wouldn't be so bad in the back seat, so I took my duffel bag and climbed into the back while Stacy waited patiently outside Kennedy's front door. Before long we were all in the car and on our way to Stacy's house. Sitting in the back seat made no difference. I wasn't sure my heart could withstand another ride in her car.
    "Does she always drive like that?" I whispered to Kennedy as we walked into Stacy's house.
    Kennedy laughed and told me I'd get used to it. My heart, still lodged in my throat, disagreed with her.
    Nobody was home when we entered her house. We walked up the stairs and entered a doorway, two doors down on the left. Stacy skipped in, followed closely by Kennedy and, lastly, myself.
    Her room was quite big. What hit you the most when you entered Stacy's room was the color pink. It was everywhere. A dark mahogany bed with bedposts stood in the center of the room and it had pink, netted curtains tied back to the bedposts. A soft-pink comforter matched the soft-pink curtains bordering double windows overlooking the pool. Dark-pink pillows were tossed onto the bed. Most girls grew out of the color pink but apparently that hadn't happened with Stacy. There was so much pink.
    I was starting to get a headache. I didn't know if it was the overload of pink or the nerve-wracking ride over. Toward the foot of the bed was a sofa around a massive flat-screen TV with a mahogany cabinet beneath it. Even the sofa was pink.
    A couple of painkillers later and I was feeling better and ready for the evening ahead. We painted our nails while we munched on some sandwiches. I kept to light blue. Stacy, as you could have guessed, went for a hot pink and Kennedy went for lilac. Then we started getting our outfits on. Stacy and Kennedy gave me a disapproving look when they saw my outfit.
    "What?" I looked down at my skinny jeans. I couldn't see anything wrong with them--they looked perfectly fine.
    "You can't wear jeans," Stacy informed me, shaking her head. It was like she was dealing with someone who didn't have a clue. Clearly I didn't.
    "Okay, so jeans are out." I picked the jeans up off her bed and stuffed them back into my duffel bag.
    I watched Stacy walk to her closet and start sifting through some of her clothes. I was surprised when she pulled out a couple of items out of her closet and they weren't pink. Thank goodness.
    "Skirt or dress?" she asked me, holding up what looked like a tube top, but was in actual fact a very short skirt. She was also holding a dark blue dress. I was definitely going with the dress, and only because it was definitely going to cover more than the so-called mini skirt.
    "I'll try it on," I said reluctantly.
    It was only when I got inside her adjoining bathroom and started to change that I realized the scrapes on my knees would be visible if I wore the dress. The little blue dress clung to my skinny frame. It really did leave little to the imagination. I wasn't sure if I could actually pull it off, but I couldn't wear the dress if the scrapes on my knees were going to be seen.
    "What happened to your knees?" Kennedy gasped when I stepped out of the bathroom into the full view of my two friends. Although my knees weren't really sore anymore, they did look terrible.
    "I fell when I was out running yesterday." It wasn't a lie. Somehow spending time doing normal teenage things with my friends had actually managed to help me forget all the life-altering things I had seen last night. Stacy stood there, eyeing my outfit again.
    "I have the perfect remedy!" she exclaimed and off she went to her closet again. How could she possibly remedy this? This time she pulled out black leggings. At least I had my jacket, so I could still cover myself up a bit more. Tonight was going to be a very long night.
    Stacy insisted I wear my hair down. She said my hair was beautiful and I should show it off more. There was no arguing with her. I normally wore very