“Here it was, the first of many lies he’d have to come up with. “Bella threw a knife at my head.” He’d do better with the next lie.”

“Antoinette had squinty eyes she could barely open under the six pounds of mascara and teal eye shadow she must’ve applied with a paint roller, and lips that were puckered on a permanent basis as if she were storing lemons in the deep recesses of her jowls. She smelled like a bull that got loose in a perfume shop, and had pointy high heeled shoes that threatened to burst out the sides at any moment from the pressure of being three sizes too small.”

“Here it was, the first of many lies he’d have to come up with. “Bella threw a knife at my head.” He’d do better with the next lie.”