Get Me Back on Skates

I spent the next three hours locked in my bedroom trying on outfit after outfit. I had to wear my Bruins shirt, but I couldn't decide which jeans to wear with it. Which shoes I wore depended on which jeans I wore, and the way I did my hair and makeup depended on the rest of my outfit. I was beginning to think that I wouldn't be ready when Tyler got here at 5.
When I heard a knock on my bedroom door around 3, I panicked. Only half dressed, I ran to the door and peeped my head around the slightly open door. Em was fuming.
"Why are you ignoring me? I'm trying to help you learn what life is like here so you won't embarrass yourself, like you did this morning! You should be thanking me, not hating me. Don't take me for granted, Anya, because one day I won't be there to help you!"
I didn't answer. I slammed the door shut and ran to my bed, crying. Within 5 minutes, the pillows on my bed were painted almost completely black with my smudged mascara and eyeliner. My clothes were on the floor; I'd changed into sweatpants and an old hockey shirt instead. I knew I couldn't go to the game, so I called Tyler and cancelled. He seemed so worried, it was almost touching. He begged and pleaded, but I knew I couldn't go. Not only was there the extreme chance that someone will find me and taunt me for not knowing this culture, but this fight with Em had totally torn me down. I was ready to turn out all the lights and hid under the covers for the rest of the afternoon, but I was completely surprised when he showed up at the front door of my apartment five minutes later.