“Okay, Cece,” Lee-Lee says, breathless with excitement, “rank the sex. Like—on a scale from one to Remy-and-Andrea-level life-ruining.”
Andrea snorts. “HEY—why are we the measuring stick?”
“Because your husband literally carried you away from a party over his shoulder once,” Lee-Lee fires back. “And Cece? Did Atlas do that? Has he done that yet?”
Jade jumps in, her voice loud enough to distort.
“OH MY GOD, DID HE PIN YOU AGAINST A WALL? DO GREEK PRINCES DO WALL SEX?”
Shelly cackles.
“Forget the wall—tell us about that yacht. Girl, did you do the thing? You know the thing—where the waves make the rhythm extra?—”
“STOP.” I cover my face with my pillow. “YOU ARE ALL FERAL. F-E-R-A-L.”
“Answer the questions!” Clementine’s tone is pure evil glee.
“No,” I lie weakly.
Every cousin on the call:
“LIAR.”
I groan.
“If I tell you one thing—ONE—you all have to stop.”
Jade nods. “Promise.”
Clementine lies, “Fine, but you have to swear on your pussy tattoo that you mean it.”
I gasp. “LOW BLOW.”
But then the screen splits again—my heart drops as my mother and three aunts join the call.
“Did she just say pussy tattoo? Cece, what else don’t I know?!” Maria Batiste, aka my Mom, queen of all Bad Bitches, leans into her camera with a knowing smirk.
Holy. Shit.
“Who added my mo?” I whisper-scream.
Jade looks around guiltily then raises her hand.
“Hello, my darling,” she says too sweetly, “So, your father is in the doghouse and I heard there was yet another family wedding we were not invited to? Explain.”
“Mom—”
Aunt Sofia waves a hand.
“Yes, yes, second that, I demand an explanation. And also—how was the sex? Scale of one to ten.”
“Mama! Aunt Sofia!” I nearly shriek.
“I heard Greeks aren’t circumcised. Is that true? I am asking for research purposes,” she continues—using her alter ego the infamous author Z. Wolff, as an excuse for her intrusive questions.
“Okay,” I inhale then I shout, “EVERYONE STOP TALKING ABOUT MY SEX LIFE!”
They absolutely do not stop.
