She's sitting on her bed, her determined gaze fixated on her toenails that she's coating with a pale pink polish. The smell of lemongrass floods the room from the candle placed on top of her desk in between a small stack of magazines and her succulent—it's a cactus. Its name is Wilson, after Sam. She often refers to it as Cap. Abby's standing on the other side of the room, rummaging through her older sister's closet, a heavy frown set on her face as she stares at the orange skirt she'd just fished out.
"Not yours, either," Abby retorts in an agitated voice, hanging it back on the rod in the closet. She turns on her heel and quirks an eyebrow at her sister. "I've never seen you wear it. And you hate orange."
Sarah chuckles, finishing up the final spot on her left pinky toe and screwing the cap back onto the nail polish. "Too true," she says, to which Abby's frown deepens. Sarah exhales. "Clearance rack, last fall. Just seven dollars. The sales lady told me I could pull it off." When Abby doesn't look amused, Sarah shrugs, her hair falling over her shoulders. "I'm an impulse buyer... also, she was pretty."
Abby snorts. "Gay." Sarah grins.
"Pot calling the kettle black, much?"
The younger Cho sister gives her a thumbs up and Sarah mimics it.
They've been holed up in Sarah's bedroom for the better part of an hour, right after splitting a banana and mango smoothie and arguing briefly about whether to make yuringi for dinner or order pizza (pizza won—Sarah decides that after her karate class later, she really won't be in the mood to cook). Abby looks super cute and, at risk of sounding ridiculously egotistical, Sarah thinks she's got a lot to do with that. Fifteen minutes on Abby's hair, now in two French braids that fall over her shoulders and accentuated by some really pretty silver clips Sarah had bought at Claire's. Thirty more minutes on Abby's makeup, pretty-but-subtle, that Sarah made absolutely sure would go with just about any outfit (because she's smart like that).
Today's Abby's first Saturday brunch with her volleyball team, and apparently it's a huge deal—whether that's true or Abby's just inherited her older sister's flair for melodramatics remains to be seen, but either way, Sarah's got no quarrels whatsoever about being enlisted to help make her sister look fabulous. Mostly because she loves doing hair and makeup and she'll jump at any chance to, but also partially because her only morning plans had been to paint her nails and watch two or three episodes of Camp Cretaceous, and she thinks it's nicer to find productive things to occupy her time with.
