"Relax, you have plenty of time." Mom could be so steadying! "Turn around, slowly."I did, still barefoot. Well, totally bare, actually, watching mysel... in the mirror. I looked so exposed! There was nothing between me and the world, and that was how I'd be at the dance!My innards gave a funny little squinching sort of thing. It felt just a little bit like I needed to pee or something, only not quite the same. It was like that feeling you get when you ride a roller coaster and you take that first. Maybe Jerry was rich. Maybe he was a reclusive hermit living in a loft in a dilapidated building in Detroit that was infested with rats and roaches but for his loft. Who lives like that but crazy, eccentric people, people who don’t want anything to do with the rest of humanity? That was Jerry, the reclusive portrait painter looking at life from afar while drawing people he’d never talk to and never meet. He’d draw quick portraits of people he saw waiting for the bus or riding the bus. He’d. More

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