Page 103 of Never Been Worse

Conveniently, this kid’s house is in the same development as Jeremy’s, though he doesn’t live here anymore. Much too expensive of a neighborhood for a man who has no job and is piling up lawyer fees and lawsuits. Thankfully, the rule of no cameras allowed still stands, so we should be okay.

Famous last words, my mind thinks.

“Me!” Ava says, then starts handing out boxes of white plastic forks, one box for each of us. This time, Ava isn’t pregnant, her sweet little Marigold home with a blissfully unaware Jaime. “It’s for the best,”Ava said when we asked if he knew. “He’s getting old, and this kind of excitement can’t be good for his heart.”

We decided against glittering the lawn, thinking it would be too obvious it was us. Thankfully, since the Revenge Line went viral after my post, people started to put my story together. In response, forking shitty people’s lawns became a bit of a viral trend, so it could beanyonedoing it.

Jules was incredibly happy about the trend beingforksinstead of glitter, in her mind reaffirming that the forks were a good idea all along.

I assign each of us a quadrant of the yard, and quickly and quietly, all four of us move around, stabbing forks into the yard. The boy who called Sophie ugly and stupid and whose parents defended him are away on vacation at Disney World, something we confirmed via social media instead of just assumingit this time.

His parents tried to give Jules the wholehe just likes herthing, and when she argued they should have a talk with him about how to treat a woman, they called my best friend stupid and ugly. Because his parents are just as shitty as he is, I don’t feel bad that this is what they’ll be coming home to.

We’re almost done, the entire yard satisfyingly covered in white sticks, when tires crunch behind us.

PTSD-type panic starts to roll through me, and then it happens.

“Are you guys kidding me?” a familiar voice calls, and we all freeze, forks in hand.

Slowly, I look over my shoulder to find my husband with a wide smile, leaning out of the passenger side of a giant boat of an SUV. Jaime is in the front seat, glowering through the open window, and when the rear window rolls down, a smiling but pretending-to-be-disapproving Nate appears.

“Jules, you’re pregnant,” he says to his wife. She shrugs. “And you’re with a seven-year-old.”

“So, it’s a family affair then. Call it girl bonding.”

“Girls’ day!” Sophie shouts, then covers her mouth, remembering she isn’t supposed to be loud.

“You’re trying to make our children criminals?” he asks with a smile, unable to hide his laughter. “And I told you it’s going to be a boy.”

Jules shakes her head, convinced she’s having a girl.

My gaze shifts to my husband as he catches my eye, lifting an eyebrow in question, before he shakes his head.

“This kid is a douche,” I say with a shrug.

“Isn’t he seven?” Jaime argues.

“And?” Ava asks. “Are you saying seven-year-olds can’t be douches? Plus, his parents are just as bad.”

Nate closes his eyes and breathes in because I’m sure he’s heard this argument plenty of times. Our brush with revenge made Jules bloodthirsty, it seems. She’s constantly suggesting crazy shit toward anyone she decides wronged any of us, from journalists who write something unflattering about Atlas Oaks to the checkout lady who lookeda little too longat her husband.

“He deserves it, Dad,” Sophie says with her hands on her hips, just as sassy as her mom and aunts. For a split second, I kind of regret encouraging this because I feel like it’s only going to breed a very strong, very specific sense of justice in the girl. Then I shrug because, not my kid, not my problem.

“Get in the car before you’re all arrested again,” Wes says.

“You should be thankful. The last time we were arrested, you got a wife,” Ava says.

“Get in thecar,guys,” Nate says, losing patience.

“We can’t; my car is around the block,” Ava says with a shrug.

“Get in the fucking car, Princess,” Jaime says.

“Excuseme?” she says. “You don’t?—”

Nate opens his door, and when I spot a car seat next to him, I squeal, nearly knocking him aside as he steps out to fold the seat down and let Jules and Sophie climb in the back before he joins them. Begrudgingly, Ava slides in the truck but I’m not paying attention to my best friend, instead, the new best friend she made me.

“How is my girl?!” I say, putting my head into the car seat next to me. A squealing, giggling Marigold greets me, two teeth visible in the overhead light before Ava slams the door shut. My niece has a giant bow on her head I instinctively know Jaime put on her, and she claps her hands, eyes wide.

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