Lipstick & Zombies (Deadly Divas Book 1) (7 page)

"Jo," the survivalist said, and took a step closer to the group. Gerri and Dee were settled on the sofa, Sadie in a chair to the side, and with Jo stepping in, Carrie was the furthest from the group. She took a deep breath, and casually moved herself into a chair across from the sofa.

"Jo," Dee repeated. "Nice to meet you."

Jo gave a slight incline of her head, barely what you could call a nod.

"So, Jo," Gerri said. "What made you decide to join this fine group of ours?"

Jo uncrossed her arms, only to cross them behind her back, and uncross them again. She took a seat on an empty side table, despite the empty chairs, and sat with her legs wide out to the sides. Carrie smiled. It was so completely the opposite of anything Carrie would ever do.

"Same as you, I suppose," Jo said.

"Well, I joined to have some fun," Gerri said. "Are you looking to have some fun, Jo?"

Jo slightly raised her right shoulder, like a twitch. A small giggle slipped from Carrie's lips, and four pairs of eyes turned her way. Sadie's glare pierced Carrie's side. She didn't even need to turn to see it; it cut so deep.

"And what's with you two?" Gerri asked.

"What do you mean?" Dee asked.

"These two," Gerri asked, directing her pointer finger at Sadie and her middle finger at Carrie. "They hate each other."

"Do you all know each other?" Dee asked. "Because that's not fair. I was told we were just meeting today. Did you see each other at tryouts? Because they had all the girls from my school sectioned off alone."

"No, no," Gerri said. "Auditions were separated by school. These two know each other somehow, though."

"We don't know each other," Carrie said.

"Not exactly true," Sadie said, and rolled her eyes away from Carrie toward Gerri. "I sing on Tuesdays and Thursdays at XY."

"Damn," Gerri said. "That place is hot."

It really was, both literally—so many bright lights and sweaty bodies—and figuratively. It was one of the few places that consistently had live music, a full crowd, and decent food. They were always redecorating. It was Carrie's second home; the first being the roof over her building.

"This girl tried to take my Tuesday slot,” Sadie said. “And she shows up at every audition I go to. She never speaks to anyone, except to say something mean, in that chipper little voice. She doesn't care if a slot's already been filled. As I hear it, she'll do
whatever it takes
to get what she wants."

Carrie knew better than to respond to this type of bitter attack, but that didn't make her silence easy.

Gerri smiled at Sadie. "Hasn't anyone ever told you to hate the game, not the player?"

"Excuse me?"

"It seems to me we're a bunch of bitches willing to do whatever it took to get here," Gerri said. "I don't know about you dears, but they put my ass in a room with a zombie without telling me first, and then shut the damn door. And I was cool with it."

"Totally," Dee said. "I ruined my shoes."

"Me, too," Gerri said. "Blood splatter's a bitch."

"That doesn't come out?" Dee asked. "Damn. They said it might. Blood got on my top, but I broke my heel."
"How'd you do that?"

"I stuck it in the thing's forehead," Dee said with a wicked grin. "Piper D's."

"Oh my god," Gerri said. "Piper D's are, like, my favorite shoe."

"Mine, too," Dee said with a sigh.

"So what about you?" Gerri asked, pointing just to Carrie.

"Piper D's are great."

"No, no. Why do you hate her?"
"I don't hate her," Carrie said. She didn't.

"Then what's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem."
Sadie huffed and rolled her eyes.

"You have a problem," Gerri said, and laughed. "Just have your fight and get it over with. That passive aggressive shit is so boring."
"Definitely," Dee agreed.

"What do you say, Jo?" Gerri asked. "Let's take our first vote, get the majority, and make these two duke it out as our first band vote action."

Carrie's heart was racing. In all the worst case scenarios she'd let run through her mind the night before, this had never come up as a remote possibility. Maybe she should have spent more time prepping for today.

"What kind of fighting?" Jo asked.

Awful lot of help that girl was.

"Oh, I think I'm going to like you, Jo Jo," Gerri said.

"Jo," Jo said.

"So, Carrie," Sadie said.

Dee exclaimed, "Here we go!" and jumped off the sofa in her excitement.

Sadie said, "Why don't you tell us all how you got in this band?"

Carrie took a deep breath. "We all got in here the same way, just like Gerri said."

"I saw that news report. That was about you, wasn't it? Where the first alternate got stabbed by the second alternate?"

"I wouldn't know," Carrie said. "I wasn't an alternate."

"So you say," Sadie said. “Maybe the first choice girl from your school died in round three, and you stabbed that other alternate to make it in.”

“Seriously?” Gerri asked. “Did you do that?”

“No!” Carrie couldn't believe this was happening. “I was not an alternate!”

“But if you had been,” Gerri said, “you would have stabbed someone. I can see that about you.”

Carrie's fingernails were dug so deep in her arms she couldn't believe she wasn't bleeding. She couldn't relax enough to straighten her fingers out. They thought she was an alternate? Her? Carrie? An alternate?
Never
.

“Oh!” Dee held her phone out, but not steady enough for anyone to actually see. “Some girl named Melanie Frisker was the stabber.”

“That still doesn't answer the original question,” Gerri said. “What is Carrie's problem?”

“I don't have a problem,” she said, again.

“Sure you don't, honey. You are a perfect picture right now of someone without a problem.”

“She's always like this, I swear,” Sadie said.

She knew these girls weren't going to like her, but to hate her, this soon? “You're just jealous,” Carrie said.

“Jealous?” Sadie asked. “Of what?”

“Of me,” Carrie said. “You can just see the talent, and it kills you, but that's your problem, not mine.”

“Is this happening?” Sadie asked.

“Well, look who thinks she's hot shit,” Gerri said.

“This isn't fun anymore.” Dee pouted. “Let's move on, okay? This is only our first day. Put the past in the past and whatever, right? I mean, all of us have something the others could be jealous of, right? I'm, you know, cute and pretty and well-dressed and, well, me. Sadie's got that fuchsia heel and her curls are so shiny! And Jo is, like, um, so tall. So tall! And Gerri's fun. And Carrie has, like, one of the best tans I've ever seen! I hope you're careful about skin cancer, that's no joke.”

Carrie cringe-smiled.

“She's not tan,” Sadie said. “She's not white.”

“What are you saying? I know she's not white—I just said, she's tan!”

“She's saying that I'm Mexican,” Carrie explained.

“My neighbors were Mexican,” Dee said. “You don't look Mexican.”

Carrie never answered questions like this without a fierce bite of sarcasm to point out just how rude people were—but she needed these people to like her. She kept reminding herself,
people like nice.
Nice just took other people's garbage and swallowed it. “My mom was Mexican, my dad's a white guy, and here I am.”

“Oh,” Dee said. “Does that even, like, count? I mean since you
look
white, just with a pretty even tan, you know?”

“I don't know, Dee, I'll have to consult my Mexican half to see if it still feels valid if white people don't notice it.” So much for being nice. She didn't even want to care about that, though. Did it matter if she was Mexican?
I don't know, Dee. Does it matter if I kick you in the face?
Yeah, nice wasn't happening.

The angry glare Sadie had worn earlier had dissipated some, but she'd turned to the wall, excusing herself from the discussion. Carrie didn't know what she was expecting, certainly not for someone to have her back.

“Um, are you mad?” Dee asked. “It was just a question.”

“An ignorant question,” Carrie said.

“Well, yeah,” Dee said. “I didn't know, so I asked. What's wrong with that?”

“I don't know, Dee. Do you think it's polite and friendly to ask people if parts of their identity count?”

“I don't get what you mean,” Dee said.

“Of course you don't.”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“No, I was calling you white,” Carrie said. “But if I were calling you stupid, would it bother you?” Dee didn't say anything, just glared. “What, Dee? It's just a question.”

“Well,” Gerri said, “this has been an excellent group bonding session. Anyone else up for those drinks now?”

None of this had gone according to plan, but Carrie had the distinct feeling she should have seen it coming. Of course it went exactly like this. It felt like everything always went exactly like this. Another day, another fight, another room of people who didn't understand her.

No one was looking at anyone else. No one was answering Gerri.

She couldn't run and hide. There was no ignoring these girls. If she was going to make this work, Carrie was going to have to figure out how to join the group. With no more thought than that—because she knew if she thought about it, she'd never do it—Carrie said, “Sure, Gerri. Where are these drinks?”

DEADLY DIVAS’ PHONES

GERRI

Mom:
Remember you can always come home.

SADIE

Mom:
Found one of your feet. You didn't like this one anyway, but thought you should know. Do you feel famous yet? Don't forget to hydrate. All that dancing and ass kicking is going to wear you out, baby girl.

CARRIE

Dad:
I keep thinking you're just on the roof. I knew you'd make it in, but part of me still thought you wouldn't leave. Proud of you. Your mom would be too. Are you sure you want to do this?

DEE

Dad:
When can I tell people? Had to tell the neighbors you were sick. Everyone noticed you were gone. House is too quiet.

Mom:
Your dad is just lost without you. Too funny.

JO

No messages.

Chapter Six

JO

Jo wasn't used to being in a building with multiple stories, and she wasn't sure how she felt about living in a room without a second route of escape. She knew it was useless bringing these concerns up with her band mates, or the personal assistant who showed up shortly after the other girls finished scouring the place for alcohol again. They'd wanted to go check out that bar Gerri kept talking about, but they'd realized that their front door locked automatically, and they hadn't been given a key. The short one who talked a lot, Dee, had looked at Jo like she wanted to ask her to stay and let them back in, but Gerri had started talking before Dee got the chance. Though Jo wasn't looking forward to the drinking, or going out, she wasn't interested in being left behind, either. It all reminded her how different she was, how separate from these girls she'd been sitting in the living room with, acting like she almost belonged. These people were never going to even try to understand her, she was sure of it.

They'd all given up the search for alcohol and called it a night. Jo was slipping into her bedroom, probably to stare at her wall, feel sorry for herself, and make herself stir crazy, when the front door opened and a woman with papers tucked under her arms walked in, clapping her hands for attention.

Dee said she was dressed "sharp" and Gerri agreed; it appeared to be a compliment. The woman was their new personal assistant, Meghan, and she loved soft shades of pink. It seemed like a nice color, which was a clever lie, because Meghan was not nice, and did not pretend to be so in any other way. She quickly read through a list of directions without ever saying hello. Jo couldn't keep up with it.

Dee laughed. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Meghan didn't respond. She pasted the paper she'd been reading to the wall. It contained their schedule, and a code they could scan with their phones. Alarms would sound on their phones to direct them throughout their day. The girls had stopped to read through it and scan the code with their phones. Meghan could be heard clapping inside Sadie's bedroom, where she was yelling something about cleaning up after themselves. Dee fired off a round of questions about maid service that were, again, ignored.

Just before Meghan left, they did get out of her that their phones had already been sent the key codes to all the doors they needed access to in the building. All they had to do was wave their phones in front of the screen by the door and they'd be let in. Jo had never seen such a thing, and the others were equally impressed.