“So, you ready for your makeover?” Sasha says excitedly. “Out with that ole preppy white girl look ’n’ in wit’ the boss lady swag.” I shrug. “I guess.” She plants a hand up on her hip. “You guess? Girl, bye! Miss me wit’ that. Already tol’ you, if you gonna roll wit’ me, then you gonna need to step ya dress game up, boo. ’Cause what you stay rockin’ ain’t it.” I frown, glancing down at my Century 21 pink cami, Adiktd Mystery jeans, and expensive sandals. “What’s wrong with what I have on?” Sasha gives me a blank look. Then rapidly bats her lashes. “Well, nothing, I suppose. If you tryna go for suburban white girl, then you’re a smash hit. But if you wanna rise to the top ’n’ be a fly girl then I’ma need for you to sit back ’n’ let me work my magic. I can’t have you rollin’ in the hood wit’ me lookin’ all wack ’n’ whatnot. Not gonna happen, honey boo-boo. If we gonna roll then you gonna have to represent for the boss chicks.
