#TripleX by Christine Zolendz, Angelisa Stone Read Free Book Online Page B

act cool. I popped a bubble with my gum and nudged my chin at the athlete. “Who are you?”
    “Evan,” he replied. “My friend Miles told me if you stick a sock in your butt you could fart out your mouth.”
    “You need to stay away from this Miles person if he likes to stick socks up his butt,” I said, laughing.
    “He dared anyone in the class to do it for a dollar. My mom won’t let me try it.”
    “Smart woman—unlike Miles’ parents. Miles’ parents should start saving now for his future bail necessities—or stop saving for college, because he’s got no shot.”
    This kid needed to find new friends. But I couldn’t wait to meet Evan’s mother. It had been too long that I’d been friends with the Facebook profile of Angelisa Stone, and I wanted to finally meet her—the real person behind the profile.
     
     
    “Pardon me,” Judge Jacobson interrupts, wrinkling her brow. She needed to invest in a good pair of tweezers . “Do you mean to tell me that before this incident you two had never met one another before?” She shoots suspicious glances at the two of us.
    “No, sir… MA’AM! I’m sorry, I meant Ma’am.”
    “And you just drove all the way to this person’s home, not knowing if she was a dangerous individual?”
    “Well, that just would have been a whole different genre, now wouldn’t it?” Angelisa quipped sarcastically.
    “Excuse me?” The judge eyes her scornfully.
    “Ang is just kidding. She doesn’t know when to be serious and when to make jokes. But truly your honor, by this point, I felt like I knew more about Angelisa and her kids than I knew about my own nieces and nephews,” I explain quickly, glaring at Angelisa. “We talk every day. We complain to each other, cry about our dumbass husbands, I mean, sorry, dumb husbands… we talk about everything. All that was missing at this point was the face-to-face meeting, the loud squeals of long-lost… or… first-found friends, and a near rib-breaking hug that made me shoot my gum right into her hair,” I laugh as Angelisa groans in memory. “If you wait a few more seconds, you’re about to hear all about that, too.”
    “Ladies, as interesting as all of this is, I would just like to know why two women of your caliber were nude, drunk, and doing handstands in the fountains of the Bellagio.”
    “And you will, just as soon as we tell you about taking Evan to the hospital to get the sock out of his rear end,” I promise, stifling a giggle.

 
     
    Twitter: Motherhood should come with an instruction manual and a return policy. #WombReturn
     
     
    “Evan Nicholas, get up here right now,” I yelled, seeing that Hurricane Evan had hit his bedroom once again for the third time today.
    “But Mom…”
    “Don’t you dare ‘But Mom’ me. I’ve told you a million times about this room. Get up here immediately!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. Hearing him stomp up the stairs, my patience threatened to explode in a whirlwind of pent up anxiety and frustration. God, I needed a drink. I needed a little horizontal-loving, too. Hell, what I really needed was some deodorant and a shower. I just hoped I had enough time to shower before Christine arrived.
    Seeing Evan, I about lost what was left of my patience. “What in the name of Satan are you wearing?” I cried, sitting down on the steps. “Wait! Don’t tell me… please don’t tell me… we swore up and down last fall that we turned in Kevin’s football equipment and that we no longer had the helmet or shoulder pads. We told Coach Cartus that he was out of his mind and that I vividly remember giving it to him at the banquet. Please tell me those are NOT Kevin’s.”
    “Yeah they are—he was number thirty-two. Look a three and a two,” Evan stated sarcastically, pointing to each number. I wanted to break his finger off and shove it up his little freaking—
    “Angelisa! I’m here,” I heard a voice call as footsteps ascended the stairs.
    “OH MY GOD,” I