Lipstick & Zombies (Deadly Divas Book 1) (8 page)

When the door finally closed behind Meghan they all sighed with relief, but then it reopened just for Meghan to yell, "But don't you little bitches leave this room!" and then the door shut again.

Dee made a rude gesture at the door with both hands and stuck out her tongue.

"Well, there's a picture," Sadie said.

"Right? Our first photoshoot," Gerri said. "The four of us standing around Dee, our little mascot, with her tongue out and middle fingers up. Do you think Willa'd like it?"

"Who cares? We should do it," Dee said.

"Of course you think so." Gerri flicked through her phone fast, fierce, and focused; it reminded Jo of how she'd prepare a weapon. "When did they do this shit to our phones?"

"What are you talking about?" Carrie asked, pulling hers from her pocket. Jo was shocked it fit in shorts that tight.

"There's all sorts of stuff in here," Gerri said. "Aha! And some of it is just what we need." She hit a few buttons on the screen and popped her hip out to the side. An automated voice came out of the phone, announcing itself as the concierge for Deadly Divas. It asked them to make their selections on the screen or to press one for them to be read aloud. Dee squealed, and Gerri went back to a somehow even fiercer search through her phone. She said she was just ordering a few "essentials", but the delivery cupboard was jam packed, and once they emptied it and reshut the door, it came back up twice.

Jo had always known the rest of the city lived differently than she did, extravagantly—dangerously, her family had called it—but this? Food that appeared in the walls? Food that barely appeared to be food at all? It was another world. Her family, and those in their community, grew food in their yards and bartered between themselves. They took care of each other. They
survived.
She understood that in the rest of the city "survivalist" was some kind of insult, but it was the badge they wore with honor. It filled her heart with pride.

The brightly colored packages they laid out on the living room table were not
survival
. What was food, then?

She took a pull from the bubbly liquor Gerri handed her, and her eyes popped wide open with surprise. This was nothing like the stuff her neighbor's family made in their warehouse kitchen. The girls laughed at Jo's expression and Jo stiffened, but then laughed, too, when she realized their high-pitched giggles were not meant to make a joke of her.

"Have you all tried this?" she asked.

"Of course." Gerri looked around the table. "Haven't you?"

"I haven't," Dee said, reaching for the bottle.

"I have, once," Sadie said.

Carrie gave a slight shake of her head.

Jo was not the only one. She spilled some of the liquor down her shirt, but kept on smiling.

GERRI

It took a while, but the girls were following her lead: drinking and laughing and forgetting about worrying. She'd be the leader of their little group before morning.

"For a personal assistant, she's not very... assisty," Dee said, bringing things around to Meghan. The girl would not let it go.

"Oh, it's not like she's worse than
Willa
," Jo said, rolling her eyes.

"She is worse!" Dee insisted.

"No, I'm with Jo," Carrie said. "At least Meghan cared."

"This is true," Sadie agreed.

"I feel sorry for Willa," Jo said, and then clamped her mouth shut and gripped the bottle to her chest, like she was scared someone would ask her to explain that.

"Me, too," Gerri chimed in. "She thinks she's really something, doesn't she? But we could be popstars and run the world, or we could 'run the world' by being boring and mean and dressing like
that.
"

"Definitely," Dee agreed. "I've gotta say, though, I need to know where she gets her work done."
"You mean like her office?" Jo asked.

"No!" Dee laughed. "Is she sixty? Is she thirty-five? I have no idea! That's some kind of, like, science miracle."

“True,” Gerri said. “She is a woman without an age. She's stepped away from such human concerns.”

“We met her for, like, five minutes!” Sadie said. “How can you have this much of an opinion?”

“It's a gift,” Gerri said, smiling proudly. “Say what we will about Queen B, I definitely think she put a few dead ones down.”

“You think she was a soldier?” Sadie asked.

“No,” Gerri said. “She might look young, but I think she was around before the wall went up.”

“No way!” Sadie laughed. “There is no way she's that old.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

“I'm going to look it up...” Dee said, but she was squinting at her screen. She'd clearly had too much to drink. Gerri wouldn't have pegged her for such a light-weight. She was very small, though. “Wait,” Dee said. “Why'd you call her Queen Bee? Her name is Willa. With a W.”

“Queen Bitch,” Gerri said.

Dee giggled. “Oh.”

“That's not very nice.” Carrie pouted.

“Sure it is. Bitches can take care of themselves. And Willa, however awful she might turn out to be, is our manager. Our queen. Our queen who is going to make us famous.” Gerri paused, distracted by the beauty of her fame. “Still, none of what she is going to do for us will ever make up for those shoes.”

"What was wrong with her shoes?" Jo asked.

"Are you kidding?" Gerri laughed. "I mean, wow."

"Look at my shoes," Dee said, and climbed onto the table, knocking over wrappers and empty bottles while pointing at her feet. "See? See these? Remember hers?"

Jo shook her 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 decided that wasn't a nice word?” Gerri countered.

“Yeah,” Sadie said with a grin, “we did.”

Gerri smiled and hugged Sadie with one arm. “I think I'm going to like you.”

“I get the impression you like everyone.”

Gerri shrugged. It was better if everyone thought so. She went to sit back down, between a tired Jo and a funny looking Dee. Gerri suspected the world was looking awfully blurry to Dee right about then.

Sadie lightly punched Carrie on the arm and said, “Sorry. You know.”

“Huh?”

“I'm sorry, okay? Maybe we can start over?”

“Sorry for saying I got in the band by stabbing people, or for insin—you—ate—” She rubbed her jaw like it would help her form words, and tried again. “Insinuating I had sex with somebody? Or something?”

“All that,” Sadie said, clearly embarrassed. “You don't know me, but I-I'm not somebody who says things that messed up.”

“Sure you are,” Carrie said. “But you said sorry.” She slapped Sadie's arm, in what Gerri was sure she thought was a gentle pat. “It's okay.”

“I don't usually say sorry,” Sadie mumbled.

“You should work on that,” Carrie said. “Hey! Who wants more bubbly drink?”

“Ha!” Gerri said. “She likes it.”

“No more,” Sadie said.

“Joy killer,” Gerri said. “Killer of the joy!”
“It's midnight,” Sadie said.

“And we've had our first make up! We've gotta celebrate!”

“In an alcohol free manner,” Sadie allowed.

“I know!” Dee sat up straight, eyes wide and alert. Gerri almost jumped out of her skin. “Selfie time!”

“Celebration selfie?” Sadie asked.

“Perfect!” Gerri yelled. They squished together on the three person sofa, Gerri in the center with Dee basically on her lap, and snapped three quick shots: one with Jo's eyes closed, another where Carrie loudly hiccuped and almost everyone closed their eyes when they jumped, and another where everyone was still laughing about that.

“You guys... you're so...” Carrie started.

“What?” Gerri asked.

"You guys are so strange."

The room filled with laughter again.

DEADLY DIVAS FORUM

They told me not to tell, but I can't keep quiet any longer. I made the band! What do you think my stage name should be? Sorry pictures are a little fuzzy. Bad lighting. <3 Jenna, Your New Deadly Diva

Liar.

Freak.

So cute!

Quack, quack! Duck face!

I'm a real Deadly Diva and this is fake. - Kelsey

Ignore that other girl, I'M the real deal. Wanna be in our concert?
Go here
.

Chapter Seven

CARRIE

They'd drunk too much.
Never again
, she promised herself. She didn't like it. She'd felt so... loose. It was like she couldn't control her mouth. She was always so careful about what she allowed herself to say. Alcohol was a problem. That aside, she'd also stayed up too late. She thought they'd fallen asleep around two in the morning, but she couldn't be sure, and it wasn't important right then anyway. What was important was the chorus of alarms sounding off at four thirty in the morning, and the barrage of people who'd clamored through the front door not fifteen minutes later. Meghan was among them.