"Hello," he said, standing up to give me a kiss on the cheek. His skin was the softest I had ever felt, and it was the exact color of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. I couldn't believe how beautiful he was. If this guy hadn't lived with his parents, he would've been out of my league. He glanced at my barrette a couple of times and I felt my face getting hotter. He was obviously wondering why I'd placed a barrette so close to my forehead.

I was furious about giving myself a home haircut. How could I have been so stupid? Clearly, I had to say something to allay his fears. "I had a little accident today," I told him.

"Oh, no," he said.

"It was nothing serious. I was actually volunteering at the Boys and Girls Club of America and a little boy set my hair on fire by accident. He has ADD and it's a pretty sad story."

"Oh, my God, were you hurt?" Jerome asked.

"No, no, no," I said, relieved that the lie seemed to be working. "I felt pretty stupid when I looked in the mirror, but I was more concerned about Linus."

"How old is the boy?" asked a horrified Jerome.

I scrambled to think of an appropriate age for a child who would set someone else on fire. "He's seven," I told him, "but challenged." I didn't know where these lies were coming from, but I couldn't stop myself. I was so intimidated by him I just jumped into a story I was sure would give us a lot to talk about.

Within the next fifteen minutes Linus had also been born a Siamese twin whose brother didn't make it through the surgery and whose biological mother had tried to auction him off on eBay.

"I didn't even know there was a Boys and Girls Club around here," said Jerome.

I had never seen a Boys & Girls Club in my life but wasn't about to tell Jerome that. "Oh, there's one at the mall," I blurted.