There was absolutely, positively, undeniably no way he would do that… even for his little sister, who he loved more than life itself.
It was just so… so…. humiliating.
And yet, there he was, sitting on the miniature blue stool.
“Oh Nicky,” Jenny squealed in her high-pitched six-year-old voice, a hairbrush in hand. “You look so pretty!”
His pout just deepened. His lips, covered in a thick layer of fuschia lipstick, looked like they were from an 80’s fashion magazine.
“Thanks, Jenny,” he said in fake cheer, putting on an act for his sister. “But now, big brother needs to go do his homework.”
“Already? We haven’t done your nails yet.” Her hazel eyes looked deep into his, glistening with almost-tears.
This was what he hated the most – who could ever say no to the Look? Sighing in resignation, he said, “I guess I can play for five more minutes.”
As she giggled off to get some nailpolish, he banged his head on the desk repeatedly. That lab report was going to keep him up all night.
