A Favor Between Sisters (Samantha)

[Sydney Emerson]

Sydney's life had suddenly gotten more confusing than ever. Rod and her were a couple now - a legit exclusive couple - and that turn of events still had her head spinning. She was happy about it - she liked when they weren't fighting - but she was also in extremely new territory. She had never so much as dated before after all. Hell, she hadn't even been kissed before Rod. Not that they seemed to have any trouble getting along in that department.

On that note, Sydney focused on her current problem. They had gotten a little carried away and Rod had left a very visible mark on her neck. A hickey it was called apparently. Well, she was pretty sure that he had done it very much on purpose, but she was trying not to be mad at him. Needless to say though, she didn't want anyone to see it. So she had been wearing her hair down to cover it in the meantime, but she had practice this afternoon and she would have to wear her hair up. She really couldn't imagine what any of her teammates would have to say about that...

After some careful research on the internet, she came to the conclusion that the best thing would to be to cover it with makeup - concealer was what was recommended. However, she didn't have time to run to the drugstore and even if she did, she wouldn't know what she was looking for. She had never bothered to use makeup before now. 

So that left her with one option, even if it was one she was loathe to take. 

With a deep breath, she stepped into the hall and walked to her roommate's door - her sister's door. After only a moment's hesitation, she knocked on the door, hoping Samantha would actually answer and maybe even help her out for once.

[Samantha Emerson]

Samantha was having a good day. Her grades were stable enough and she didn't have any tests to stress over. Or rather, she didn't have any tests for her friends to stress over for her. Her newly restocked paints were smiling up at her, ready to jump onto the canvas (especially the big one that stretched across the wall) and she was getting the hang of her latest music piece. All that was left was a little bit of spring cleaning to brighten the place up.

Samantha plugged her phone into a small speaker and put Pandora on shuffle. She sang along to the music as she tidied up. As always, the volume was kept to a level where it could be heard from the common area of the dorm, but only faintly. When the floor had been swept, clothes put away, and desk neatened, Sam covered her bed with a lightweight plastic tarp. Anything else that she didn't want to get paint on was pushed into the closet and the door closed.

She grabbed her larger brushes and glanced between the wall canvas and her tubes of brightly colored paint. She cocked her head and focused on the melodies and lyrics coming from her phone. It took her a moment to realize that someone had knocked on her door. Samantha frowned, a little confused. It could only be one person on the other side of that door, and Syd didn't make it a habit to seek Samantha out.

The older Emerson sister opened the door with a slightly concerned expression on her face. "Did someone die? Are Mom and Dad okay? Are we getting another roommate?" The questions rolled off her tongue as Sam thought of any possible reason as to why, after a year or so of minimal interaction, her sister would ever knock on her door.

Clothes

[Sydney Emerson]

There was a long pause with no acknowledgement after Sydney knocked on the door, and for a moment, she thought that her sister was set on ignoring her. After all, she could hear the faint music on the other side of the door. She knew that Samantha was in there, which either meant she was busy or she was ignoring her. Neither option would likely end favorably for her.

Yet finally, she did open the door. Her surprise at seeing Sydney on the other side was obvious, made even more so by the rapid questioning that she was greeted with. Part of her wanted to gripe about her rudeness at not even offering a hello, but given the things were with them... she could hardly say that she was shocked by it. Besides, if she was going to ask a favor, starting a fight wouldn't help at all.

"Mom and Dad are fine, and as far as I know, no one has died nor is our roommate arrangement changing," she answered. Her hand smoothed her hair, checking to make sure that pesky mark was still covered. The last thing she wanted was Samantha passing judgement on her. She could see from the apron she wore that she had obviously planned on doing some sort of art project. "Sorry to interrupt," she offered politely.

"I just needed to ask you a quick favor is all," she explained. "Do you have some concealer I can borrow?" She just prayed Samantha didn't ask why. Sydney really did not want to have to explain this, especially to her sister of all people.

[Samantha Emerson]

When Sydney told her that nothing life-changing had happened, Samantha blinked, then raised her eyebrow. "So..." She didn't actually say the What are you doing here, then? question, but her facial expression and body language made it pretty clear. The fact that she had neglected a proper greeting went by completely unnoticed by Samantha; it was almost the norm for them. Well, for Samantha at least. On better days, she would remember her manners and say hello, but she didn't think unexpected room visits counted as a better day. It wasn't a bad day, just...unexpected.

Even so, a brief flash of guilt flashed through Samantha's mind at Sydney's courteous words. So today they were playing nice. "Yeah, well, I haven't started yet anyway." She replied, making the effort not to be provocative.

When Sydney revealed her reason for coming over, Samantha shook her head in confusion. "Wait, what?" She asked, wondering if she had somehow misheard the request despite the fact that they were standing right in front of each other. "Concealer? You? If you're doing a.... a who-knows-what experiment on makeup, couldn't you just buy some cheap knock-off brand or something?" Okay, so that was a stretch, but Sydney, bookish little nerd that she was, couldn't be wanting to put it on herself could she?

[Sydney Emerson]

Samantha didn't need to finish her sentence to make it clear she was wondering just why the younger girl was standing at her door. It was out of character for both of them, so Sydney could hardly blame her for reacting that way. Sometimes she wondered what had started the rift between them - she had never really understood that - but they had only grown further apart as they grew older. Now they had established a sort of reluctant tolerance out of the necessity of being roommates. It wasn't much, but it was better than fighting on a daily basis like they had back home.

She gave a small nod as her sister reassured her that she hadn't started yet. "I won't keep you long," she offered. Really, she wanted to get this over as quick and painlessly as possible. It was an entirely awkward and embarrassing situation. Still, she appreciated that Samantha wasn't just telling her to go away. For them, that was a pretty good start to things.

Sydney bit her lip at the older girl's reaction. Yes, it was out of character, so it was hard to hold Samantha's confusion against her, but it still made her feel even more self-conscious than she already was. "I need it to cover a... blemish," she explained. Calling it a blemish wasn't exactly a lie... "I don't have the time to run out and get it before my practice tonight, so I was hoping I could borrow it and then get my own tomorrow so I won't have to bother you again." That and it would be so much easier to buy something once she knew what she needed to buy. Part of her wanted to snap and just ask if she had something to loan her or not, but she forced herself to play nice instead.

"Please?"

[Samantha Emerson]

Now, in general, Samantha would appreciate if someone was mindful of her time, even if it wasn't exactly rationed out. But this was her sister, and with that everything was different. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. This was almost a normal-people conversation, something very much not normal for the Emerson girls. 


Samantha's eyes flicked over her sister's face, an automatic reaction for her at the mention of a blemish. Being the teenagers that they were, Sam knew that sometimes, zits just popped up. But she couldn't even see the said blemish. Also... "Since when did you care about covering stuff up?" She asked, just barely managing to cut off an added comment about appearances and all that. 

In the end, it was Sydney's plea that really caught Samantha's attention. This was different. And very suspicious. She couldn't remember the last time that either of them had used the word 'please' in a non-sarcastic way. "Well, I suppose you could use a little of mine, if you're desperate enough to actually learn a type of makeup." She said with a dramatic sigh. She pulled the door all the way open and went to set down her paintbrush before rummaging through her makeup.

"Must be some blemish..." She muttered. As she turned away, however, her growing suspicions came to a very startling possibility. Samantha stopped in her tracks and whirled around. "Hold on. No way. No. Way. You?" She said with an incredulous laugh, one hand holding the concealer tube and the other pointing at her sister. 

[Sydney Emerson]

Sydney could feel the suspicion emanating from her sister, and it was enough to almost make her cringe. The more that Samantha pressed her, the more likely she was to figure out just why Sydney was asking for a favor in the first place. But she wanted nothing more than to avoid that. It wasn't that she was ashamed of Rod or anything like that... It was just that... well, the Emerson kept their lives separate. That was made vaguely co-existing possible. That and she really just didn't want to give Samantha a chance to make her feel bad about this. It was supposed to be a good thing after all, and hickey aside, she was happy with how things were going.

She had to admit though that she hadn't anticipated her sister asking why she cared to cover it up. "It's just large and embarrassing, and you know how people are. They're easily distracted by things like that and I don't want it to detract from practice." She wasn't lying after all. It was large and it would be distracting to her teammates. And she hadn't technically specified what sort of blemish it was... Hopefully Samantha wouldn't push it any farther.

It was a massive relief then when she agreed to lend her some makeup, even if Sydney could still feel her suspicion growing stronger if anything. But that didn't matter. She had agreed and in a moment, Sydney could just take the concealer and run from any further questions and that would be that. Much as she hated to admit it, desperate was an accurate description. She stepped just inside the doorway when her sister opened it fully, waiting patiently.

Suddenly Samantha whirled around to look at her, apparently having come to some sort of conclusion. However, she wasn't exactly being clear about what it was that she thought. However, standing there, holding the concealer, pointing and laughing at her wasn't exactly helpful. Sydney bristled a little at the treatment. "I what?" she asked finally, praying that Samantha hadn't somehow guessed the truth.

[Samantha Emerson]

"Oh how nice of you, showing concern for other people's focus. That's what coaches are for, hun." Samantha couldn't resist just one little sarcastic, disbelieving comment to Sydney's explanation. From Samantha's perspective, the younger Emerson only thought of others when it was convenient, or when basic etiquette dictated. Everyone else might as well crash and burn; it wouldn't make a lick of difference in Sydney's world as long as she was getting good grades. The overall effect of Samantha's words was somewhat mitigated, however, when she relented and went to go find her concealer. 

It took a moment for her to realize that Sydney couldn't very well answer her without knowing what she was asking. "I think you know what I'm talking about." She said, her expression still full of mirth. In her eyes, Syd's miffed reaction only confirmed her theory, outlandish as it sounded.

"Who was it? The runner-up to valedictorian? A total geek who's skinny and pale but kinda hot without his glasses?" She asked knowingly. Her tone was teasing and light-hearted in part because she wasn't ready to accept the fact that her little sister had been up to things other than studying and running. The other reason was that Sam's not-so-little green-eyed beast wanted the deviant satisfaction of getting Sydney all flustered and red. 

"I'll give this to you eventually, but you're gonna have to answer me." She said, poised to dance out of reach should Sydney try to just take the makeup.

[Sydney Emerson]

Sydney pursed her lips together, forcing back a retort. This was the issue with them. Neither one could help but snap back, each intent on getting the final word. Perhaps the only similarity between them. At least the only one either might consider acknowledging. But this was more important than some silly little remark.

Please let her have the wrong idea, she prayed. "Obviously, I don't," she resisted, keeping her voice as dry as possible. "I'm not a mind reader. Unless you say what you're thinking, you might as well be speaking Sanskrit." She could just keep denying it. After all, there was no knowing what Samantha was thinking really. It could be anything at all.

"Who was what?" she said, her annoyance leaking into her voice slightly. Now that she was talking about guys though, it was becoming more obvious that she was probably thinking about the right idea. But Sydney wasn't about to confirm that. Still, Rod was about the exact opposite of what Samantha was describing. How would she describe Rod anyway? That was an interesting question, though one that Sydney sorely hoped would not become relevant in any way, shape or form.

"I can hardly answer you when you haven't asked a question with a clear answer, Samantha," she said with a sigh. Why did she have to make this so difficult? Maybe she could rush her past the questioning so she'd drop it entirely... "Can you please just give it to me? I told you, I have practice and I need to get ready still. I don't want to be late."

[Samantha Emerson]

"Tsk. Tsk. And you're supposed to be the smart one." Samantha said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. It was pretty typical; Samantha being more 'concerned' with the fact that Sydney couldn't - or wouldn't - draw the logical conclusion that Sam saw as far too clear than the actual conclusion. Which was, of course...

"You have a hickey, dear sister. Unexpected as that may be. Or are there more than one? Move your hair! Who'd you drag into the closet?" She smirked, not making any movement in lieu of handing over the makeup. Jealousy was well on its way to make a new highwater mark, and finding glee in the fact that, for once, Samantha had the upper hand. At least for now. She saw now why Syd hadn't offered up any real jabs, and the fact that she had even come in the first place spoke for itself. 

"You're in track. You can run fast. Besides, the faster you answer, the sooner you can get to practice." Samantha said matter-of-factly. In truth, it was a bit of an empty threat; there weren't really many more questions that Sam could ask. 

[Sydney Emerson]

It took extreme amounts of effort for her to resist correcting her sister. It wasn't a matter of her intelligence in regards to this situation. It was her intelligence that kept her from speaking if anything. Responding too quickly would only result in her giving away more information than her sister could have possibly anticipated. But she was trying to play nice, so she said nothing.

Finally Sam said it, and Sydney found her hand at her neck, checking to see if her hair had accidentally revealed the mark. But her hair was in place still... so how had her sister figured it out? That question was likely to bug her for days... Still, she didn't answer, not wanting to give Samantha the satisfaction.

But her sister was giving her no other choice and she wasn't about to face the same line of questioning again at practice. "Fine. You're right, it's a hickey," she said reluctantly, pulling aside her hair for a brief moment to show her sister. Talk about a humiliating experience. "But for your information, he is nothing like you guessed. He's an athlete in fact." Well, he said he boxed, that counted. "And he is roguishly handsome - tall, tan, and muscular. So I guess I exceeded your expectations in the boyfriend department." She couldn't resist getting a little haughty.

"So can I have the concealer now or do you have more silly questions to ask?"

[Samantha Emerson]

Samantha shot her sister a gloating look when Syd's hand moved to her neck. See, you did know what I was talking about, her eyes said. The signs were all there, and it didn't take much to get a hunch, really. Sam didn't have enough fingers to count the times when she had either dragged a friend into the bathroom or been dragged into the bathroom so that she could fix a particularly noticeable love bite. 

At first, Samantha didn't believe Sydney's description of the boy responsible for this whole scenario. What in the name of all that is holy would Syd see in someone like that? Moreover, how in the world would a jock-type ever cross paths with a teacher's pet? No, of course Samantha wasn't jealous. What a silly idea....

But on second thought, Samantha saw no reason for Sydney to lie. There was nothing she could accomplish by lying, so she must be telling the truth, however unlikely it may seem. Samantha's body stiffened, and her expression hardened as she realized that, once again, Syd had beaten her. In the most unlikely way possible! How dare she... Sam conveniently ignored the fact that she had perhaps taken a bit too much pleasure in Sydney's predicament without receiving much fire in return.

"Yeah, well, tell your tall, dark, and handsome not to mark you up until you get your own makeup." She muttered, tossing the tube over and picking up her paintbrush up again. She turned her back on Sydney, cutting off any further conversation. She took careful aim and flicked her brush, hard. It wasn't long before her wall was a mess of colorful splatters. Samantha exhaled and glanced over at the door. She couldn't ignore it anymore. She huffed but took off her apron and headed for the common area. She hadn't heard the door yet, so that meant she could still catch Sydney before she left for practice. 

"D'you manage to cover it all?" She asked, leaning resignedly against the wall. Syd was right; people would whisper if they saw a hickey, especially on her.  Not all people whispered nice, and that wasn't acceptable in Sam's book. 

[Sydney Emerson]

Even someone as hopeless in the realm of social cues as Sydney could clearly see the 'I told you so' in her sister's eyes. Perhaps most people would have been embarrassed and looked away, but she was far too stubborn for that. So she met her sister's gaze, her posture straightening as if to say, go ahead and judge me, I dare you. Of course, Sydney was rather embarrassed about the whole thing, but she wasn't going to give Samantha the satisfaction of admitting it or cowering before her.

So she waited for the judgement. Yet all she sensed was shock. Sydney couldn't help a little smirk at that realization. Samantha had been so quick to assume that it had to be someone who was less than desirable to her peers. The classic nerd stereotype. But instead she had defied those expectations, and it seemed that her sister was none too happy about that as Sydney sensed that all too familiar resentment once more.

Samantha muttered a rather disgruntled dismissal and tossed the makeup at her. She had fast reflexes thanks to her excessive hand-eye coordination training. After all, it hadn't come naturally for her, so she had compensated by working hard to achieve her skill. Somehow that was a fact that almost no one ever appreciated. It was at this point that she could have said that she had told him to never mark her again anyway, or that she intended to buy her own, but in the end, she said neither, respecting her sister's wishes for solitude. With a politely spoken 'thank you,' Sydney left for her own room.

Now, she had thought that applying the concealer would be rather straight forward. How hard could it really be? But instead she found that she either applied it too thickly so it was very obviously covered, or too thinly so it scarcely hid anything. She let out a frustrated groan after wiping away her third attempt. Why could she not do this right?

Her door was still open so she heard when Samantha left her own room - though she was surprised to hear a question that could only be spoken to her. She pursed her lips together for a moment before sighing softly and walking to stand in her doorway. Samantha was leaning against the wall and Sydney had to wonder why she cared to even ask. Was she going to mock her for struggling with it? But her hair was pulled up in a ponytail now, allowing the mark to be seen quite clearly. So there was no point in lying, and with that she simply resigned herself to whatever her sister had to say.

"No. I didn't."

[Samantha Emerson]

The Emerson sisters had nonverbal battles often enough, usually revealing their true sentiments regardless of the words they might use. That was one of the reasons that Samantha had gotten pretty good at reading body language. She knew that, however it may have started, the conversation had ended with Sydney in the winner's circle and Samantha childishly storming off the track, so to speak. 

But she was still Sydney's older sister, and that title came with certain obligations. Now, Sam had ignored a good many of them, but she found that she couldn't ignore all of them. At least, that's what she told herself. Obligation had dragged her over to check on her little sister. Who, by the looks of it, had no idea what she was doing. Samantha considered going into Syd's room, but that would mean directly offering help, since she couldn't very well just barge in. Instead, she glanced back at the sink in the common room. Yes, the mirror over there would do.

"Come over here. Bring the concealer." She said briskly over her shoulder as she dragged a chair over to the sink. She didn't look to see if Sydney had followed, but went into her own room to retrieve a bag that held her makeup essentials. "Sit." She commanded, though her tone - surprisingly - lacked any trace of arrogance or superiority. It was merely the voice of someone who wasn't going to accept any discussion on the matter.  

Samantha held her hand out for the concealer, looking at Sydney imploringly. "You could always use Youtube, but it'll be faster this way." 

[Sydney Emerson]

As Sydney stood in her doorway, waiting for her sister to speak, she found herself trying to anticipate what she might say. The most likely option was that she would mock her inability to effectively use the concealer. That was something she could chalk up to inexperience. She had never before used makeup after all. Just as it had taken her time to gain the hand-eye coordination, stamina, speed and strength to be an athlete, so it would take time to learn this skill. Therefore it was hardly fair to fault her for her current lack of skill. Yes, that seemed the most logical route.

Then Samantha did something truly shocking though. She didn't comment on it at all, instead asking -well, ordering - Sydney to come over to the sink and bring the concealer. Was she... going to help her? Sydney wasn't certain she could think of a single time that her sister had offered her any sort of assistance... at least not without first being forced into it by their parents. She wondered what had changed to make her do such a thing, but she didn't question it long. She didn't even protest her sister's tone. After all, she recognized it all too well. It was the same tone that Sydney adopted when she was on a mission and focused on getting it done.

So she simply grabbed the concealer and followed her sister to the sink, placing the concealer in her offered hand. Sydney simply stared at her, mostly in shock, as she remarked that she could use Youtube but this would be faster. Normally, it would be quite out of character for her to not insist upon doing it herself but in this case... Well, she had a commitment and she truly had no idea what she was doing. It seemed a good circumstance to simply accept the help.

Sydney wanted to offer her thanks, but she hesitated, wondering if the sentiment might ruin the all business attitude her sister seemed to have adopted, so in the end she only nodded in response, waiting to see exactly how this process was going to work.