Read Online Lipstick & Zombies (Deadly Divas Book 1) by Faith McKay - Free Book Online
Authors: Faith McKay
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head. The girl was a helpless little thing.
"They were brown!" Gerri yelled.
Dee pointed at her. "This is what I'm saying! They were brown! Fake leather! BROWN! FAKE! LEATHER!" Dee looked to the ceiling and shook her fists. She lost her balance with the effort and nearly fell off the table.
"Watch yourself there," Gerri said, and stood up and grabbed Dee by the hips to help her down.
"Brown. Fake. Leather."
"Okay," Jo said. "Brown fake leather. Bad."
"This is what I'm saying," Dee said. "I'll help you." She darted around the table, faster than Gerri or anyone else could grab her, and threw her arms around Jo. "I'll help you, Jo Jo."
Jo tensed, but then patted the girl lightly on her shoulder. "Just Jo."
"Just Jo," Dee agreed. "Maybe that could be your stage name! J J."
"No. Jo."
"Or No Jo," Sadie said, and they all burst out laughing, except Jo, who reminded them again that it was just Jo. Not even alcohol would lighten the girl up. Gerri wasn't sure what she was going to do with that one, but she was up for the challenge.
Carrie leaned forward and brushed the hair from her face, her posing and reposing of herself thankfully forgotten a few drinks ago. She said, "Why do you think the only good word for a fierce, in control, tough woman is 'bitch'?” She whispered the last word, like even drunk she could barely stand to say it. “It's a bad word.”
“You have a problem with bad words, hon?”
“No.” Her face turned red again, but not as bright as before. “Yes. But that's not what I'm saying! What I'm saying is...wait a minute.”
“I get it,” Sadie said. She'd only had a little to drink, but the girl was hogging the ice cream like she thought she'd never get it again. Gerri'd only had it twice before today, but still, they were famous now. They could pace themselves. They could share . “She's saying it's not fair that the only word for a take-charge lady is also an insult. I agree. I'm not a 'bitch'. Positive or not.”
“Yeah,” Carrie said.
“We need a new word then,” Gerri said. “We're famous now. We can make one up.”
“It's like, so obvious. Isn't it?” Dee had undone Jo's braid and was raking her fingers through it. “Divas.”
“Oh, that name,” Carrie groaned.
“What's wrong with it?” Dee asked, defensive.
“It's just, I don't know, silly .”
Jo nodded, and Dee gave a light tug on her hair. “Hmph. I like it.”
“Of course you do,” Carrie said.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Dee, Diva. It's like the band was named for you.”
Dee grinned mischievously—the thought had obviously occurred to her.
“Even so,” Gerri said, “I like it. Popstars making it happen. Deadly Divas. I'm not taking your shit; I'm a diva.” Gerri flipped her hair to the side. It always made her feel like a star. It used to rock her head off balance when she had long hair.
“You know,” Sadie said, “I watched this old movie where diva kind of meant bitch. In the world before, you know.”
“Well welcome to the new and improved world, divas!”
“New and improved.” Carrie snorted. “We have munchers.”
“Ah, dead ones, shmead ones,” Gerri scoffed. “I'm a diva!” Gerri stood, and quickly stomped her feet. She put out her hands, and pulled Carrie to her feet. Shoulders jerking, arms up, feet stomping—it was time to see if these girls could dance without music.
Apparently, they could. Carrie laughed, copied Gerri's moves, and added twenty seconds of her own. It was actually really impressive, if Gerri was being honest, but why would she do that?
Sadie clapped. “I like it.” She stood up and twirled around the comfy chair, and then repeated the moves they'd already done. She nailed that tricky stuff Carrie had thrown out, and added some of her own.
“Wow,” Gerri said. “You can, like, really do that.”
“Hey!” Carrie yelled between hiccups. “Watch it!”
Sadie stomped her prosthetic leg and said, “Yeah I can, bitch.”
“I thought we'd
"They were brown!" Gerri yelled.
Dee pointed at her. "This is what I'm saying! They were brown! Fake leather! BROWN! FAKE! LEATHER!" Dee looked to the ceiling and shook her fists. She lost her balance with the effort and nearly fell off the table.
"Watch yourself there," Gerri said, and stood up and grabbed Dee by the hips to help her down.
"Brown. Fake. Leather."
"Okay," Jo said. "Brown fake leather. Bad."
"This is what I'm saying," Dee said. "I'll help you." She darted around the table, faster than Gerri or anyone else could grab her, and threw her arms around Jo. "I'll help you, Jo Jo."
Jo tensed, but then patted the girl lightly on her shoulder. "Just Jo."
"Just Jo," Dee agreed. "Maybe that could be your stage name! J J."
"No. Jo."
"Or No Jo," Sadie said, and they all burst out laughing, except Jo, who reminded them again that it was just Jo. Not even alcohol would lighten the girl up. Gerri wasn't sure what she was going to do with that one, but she was up for the challenge.
Carrie leaned forward and brushed the hair from her face, her posing and reposing of herself thankfully forgotten a few drinks ago. She said, "Why do you think the only good word for a fierce, in control, tough woman is 'bitch'?” She whispered the last word, like even drunk she could barely stand to say it. “It's a bad word.”
“You have a problem with bad words, hon?”
“No.” Her face turned red again, but not as bright as before. “Yes. But that's not what I'm saying! What I'm saying is...wait a minute.”
“I get it,” Sadie said. She'd only had a little to drink, but the girl was hogging the ice cream like she thought she'd never get it again. Gerri'd only had it twice before today, but still, they were famous now. They could pace themselves. They could share . “She's saying it's not fair that the only word for a take-charge lady is also an insult. I agree. I'm not a 'bitch'. Positive or not.”
“Yeah,” Carrie said.
“We need a new word then,” Gerri said. “We're famous now. We can make one up.”
“It's like, so obvious. Isn't it?” Dee had undone Jo's braid and was raking her fingers through it. “Divas.”
“Oh, that name,” Carrie groaned.
“What's wrong with it?” Dee asked, defensive.
“It's just, I don't know, silly .”
Jo nodded, and Dee gave a light tug on her hair. “Hmph. I like it.”
“Of course you do,” Carrie said.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Dee, Diva. It's like the band was named for you.”
Dee grinned mischievously—the thought had obviously occurred to her.
“Even so,” Gerri said, “I like it. Popstars making it happen. Deadly Divas. I'm not taking your shit; I'm a diva.” Gerri flipped her hair to the side. It always made her feel like a star. It used to rock her head off balance when she had long hair.
“You know,” Sadie said, “I watched this old movie where diva kind of meant bitch. In the world before, you know.”
“Well welcome to the new and improved world, divas!”
“New and improved.” Carrie snorted. “We have munchers.”
“Ah, dead ones, shmead ones,” Gerri scoffed. “I'm a diva!” Gerri stood, and quickly stomped her feet. She put out her hands, and pulled Carrie to her feet. Shoulders jerking, arms up, feet stomping—it was time to see if these girls could dance without music.
Apparently, they could. Carrie laughed, copied Gerri's moves, and added twenty seconds of her own. It was actually really impressive, if Gerri was being honest, but why would she do that?
Sadie clapped. “I like it.” She stood up and twirled around the comfy chair, and then repeated the moves they'd already done. She nailed that tricky stuff Carrie had thrown out, and added some of her own.
“Wow,” Gerri said. “You can, like, really do that.”
“Hey!” Carrie yelled between hiccups. “Watch it!”
Sadie stomped her prosthetic leg and said, “Yeah I can, bitch.”
“I thought we'd
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