Page 63 of Judge
“Wait, where’s Tess?” I ask, sitting up slightly when I realize I don’t think I’ve ever seen the woman’s front before.
“Oh, she’s with her daddy,” Blanche smiles.
“That’s it! That’s why you look weird. I think you should look weird more often. It can’t be healthy wobbling around with that baby strapped to you all the time,” Chewy says matter of factly.
“Wobbling?” Blanche’s brows rise higher and higher on her face.
“Anyway,” Lovely claps, admirably changing the subject. “How are we going to get back at those awful women?”
“Who says we have to have anything more to do with them? All the kids have been kicked off the team, we’ll never see them again.” Vi shrugs.
“Ah, that’s not true. They come into the diner every Wednesday for ‘girly catch ups!’,” I say in a high pitched valley girl voice.
“I agree with Lovely then, what are we going to do? We can’t let this lie,” Nat joins in.
“I could dox them online,” Remy offers. I’m not sure what doxing is, but it sounds bad.
“Nope. We need public humiliation. Something so everyone will see how awful they are and they’ll never show their faces in the diner again,” Ana adds.
We all stare at each other. “Could we-?” I whisper.
“Yeah, but we have to do it classy. No dancing in their bedrooms in underwear. Leave it with me,” Chewy says, staring into space, fingers tapping.
I have no idea what she has planned, but it’ll be messy. I mean, those bitches picked on Chomper and if I know anything about Chewy, no one messes with her gator. Or her kid.
“So, we have like, three hours to go before the party tonight. Who wants to do extreme makeovers and surprise the men?” Mira asks, bouncing in her seat.
“I do!” Booms from outside the door and Pops and Mad Dog walk in. It seems the girl gang has grown by one more grandfather.
“Oh, what do you have in mind? Lose the Skechers?” Ana snickers.
“I’ll have you know that these fuckers have the softest soles known to man. It’s like walking on babies. That’s how soft and squishy they are.”
“Ew,” Remy screws up her nose.
“It’s a metaphor sweetheart. Or something.” Pops waves his hand in the air. “Anyway, did I hear extreme makeovers?”
“Why yes, you did,” I grin. “What do you suggest?” I wag my brows, expecting him and Mad Dog to run.
Instead, Mad Dog tilts his head, looking thoughtful. “Have you ever straightened your hair? I think that would change your look drastically.”
I stared wide eyed at him as the girl gang, except for Chewy, gasp and then coo in excitement.
“He’s right, you’d look soooo different!” Remy claps her hands in excitement.
“Oh oh, do me!” Mira waves her hand in the air.
This time Pops looks her up and down. “How about something biker chic? You always wear colorful dresses, how about all black, and those spray on black pants the ladies seem to like wearing?”
Mira’s eyes grow so wide at the suggestion that I can’t tell if she’s shocked or offended. “Tank is going to DIE!” she squeals so high pitched that only dogs would be able to hear it.
“What’s going on?” Mama Debs pops her head inside the door that Pops left open, before coming in and snuggling into Pops’ side.
“Pops and Mad Dog are giving us makeovers,” Blanche says.
“Not me. Rhodie thinks I’m perfectly fine the way I am.” Chewy nods decisively.
“Yes you are, baby,” Mama Debs kisses Chewy on the top of her head, then smiles gently as Chewy beams at her.
