"B-Bald? Seriously?" Tatum replied, biting her lower lip roughly. She had smoked a majority of the joint by now, and the paranoia was setting in, getting worse with every thing that Amber picked apart. As if she didn't have enough self-esteem issues already, this was doing her zero favors in that department. "I know I'm-- I'm not.. trying to be Britney. I don't want to be bald. I mean, not that I know who Britney Spears is. I don't listen to Britney Spears."

Which was sort of a lie, but as if she'd be telling that to Amber.

"I should, uhm.. like g-get back inside. When I'm done this," she managed to murmur, holding up the tiny bit of joint that was left. Two puffs at best. Just two puffs and then she'd bail. "My, uhm.. girlfriend, she's.. probably wondering what's taking me so long. Not that I don't want to like, t-talk.. to you. And stuff. She's just waiting, that's.. all."