“Sounds like you've got it all planned out.""Honey, I've got more plans than Wes has ugly shoes.""And that's a lot." I laugh."It sure is," she says with a sigh.”

“You could call him,' Wes suggests. 'Why be a spectator in the game of love? Take charge. Don't wait around and let the boy call all the shots.' 'As cheesy as all of that sounds,' Kimmie adds. 'Cheese or not,I know what I'm talking about.' He sulks. 'I've lived it. I've learned it.'Kimmie lets out a laugh. 'With who,Romeo? That Wendy girl you paid to date you?''Oh, and because I don't have a dating history as big as your mouth, it doesn't quite measure up?''I hate to break this to you, but that isn't the only thing of yours that doesn't measure up.' 'Wouldn't you like to know?' He grins.”

“You know what's really freaky? Wes segues. "The fact that the psycho in question was the same guy who was after Debbie Marcus."The whole fiasco with Debbie Marcus had happened at around the same time that I was getting stalked. But instead of taking her seriously, people chalked her stories up to pranks and practical jokes, concluding that Debbie had gotten paranoid as a result.But there was obviously a lot more to it."Actually, its not nearly as freaky as the fact that Camelia decided to go to the psycho's house without even calling us first," Kimmie says."I already told you guys, I didn't have my phone.""And you've obviously never heard of a collect call," Wes says."Nor have you heard of nine-one-one." Kimmie's barbell-pierced eyebrow rises high. "Because I hear that's free as well.”

“I hope you don’t mind that we’re crashing,” Wes says. “I’m trying to escape a hunting expedition. No joke. Dad thinks I’ll be more of a man if I can blow a rabbit’s head off. And my response? ‘Sorry, Dad, but as tempting as it is to obliterate Peter Cottontail first thing on a Sunday morning, I promised Camelia I’d swing by her house, because she’s been begging to abuse my body for weeks.’”“And speaking of being delusional,” Kimmie segues, “did I mention that my plan to reunite my parents was totally dumb?” She leads us into my bedroom and then closes the door behind her. “They could smell the setup before their water glasses were even filled.”“How’s that?” I ask, taking a seat on my bed.“The violinist I arranged to serenade them at the table might have been a tip-off,” she begins. “Either that, or the wrist corsage I ordered for my mom. I handpicked the begonias and had the florist deliver it right to the table.”“Don’t forget about the oyster appetizer you preordered for the occasion,” Wes adds.“Because, you know what they say about oysters, right?” An evil grin breaks out across her face. ‘I know, I know.” She sighs, before I can even say anything. “I may have gone a little overboard, but what can I say? I’m a dorkus extremus. Hence my outit du jour.” She’s wearing a Catholic schoolgirl’s uniform, a pair of clunky black glasses (with the requisite amount of tape on the bridge), and a cone-shaped dunce cap.“Yes, but you’re a dorkus extremus with a nice set of begonias,” Wes teases.”

“Okay, now you're starting to scare me," Wes says."No, scary is the way people can alter their voices on cue. Like your imitation of that creepy guy who lives at your house.""You mean my dad?" he laughs.”

“I shrug, suddenly remembering how Adam never called me this morning, even though he said he would. “I should probably go back to Adam’s apartment to have a look at his door.”“Want some company?” Wes asks. “I can bring along my spy tool. I’ve got a cool UV-light device that picks up all traces of bodily fluids.”“You’re kidding, right?” Kimmie asks.“You know you want to give it a try.” He winks. “I’ll even let you borrow my latex gloves.”“Say no more,” she jokes. “I’m in.”

“It’s all so confusing.”“Only to you it is. Wes and I tend to see things a whole lot clearer than you do. And, as luck would have it, he just happens to be here with me, hiding out from his dad. So why don’t you get your confused ass over here, too?”“Why is he hiding out?”“Because his dad paid Helga to come onto him.”“Helga the cleaning lady?”“Believe it. That woman may be sixty years old and carry her teeth around in a Dixie cup, but apparently she still has game.”“Heinous.”“To put it mildly.”