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Cassie pulls a chair and sits kitty-corner to me. "Laurel always gets what she wants. A perk of beauty."
Laurel flips her long hair over her shoulder theatrically. "Thanks, Cass." She places her hand under her chin in an exaggeratedaren't I cutepose. "But it's not beauty. If it was, you'd get what you want too. Well, if you washed off a little eyeliner. That will work if the clerk has a thing for alt girls. But you know men. A lot of them are scared of girls with tattoos."
Cassie nodsthat is true.
"Sweet and feminine gives you the best odds."
"You're not sweet," Cassie says.
"Of course not! Why would I ever want to be sweet? I'm playing a part." She looks to the mirror, smiles, bats her eyelashes. "Do you think you could do me a little favor, honey?" Her voice takes on a coquettish tone, as if she's emulating Marilyn Monroe. "I get so chilly after a shower. I'd just love a robe, if you have one."
"Why don't you offer him head for it while you're at it?" Cassie says.
"That's disgusting, Cassie." She grabs a cotton pad and tosses it at her sister. "I would never trade sex for favors. Don't bring me into your role play."
"Oh? Is it not fun to talk about your siblings' sex lives all of a sudden?" Cassie asks.
Laurel shrugs. "Honestly, I don't get why Zack cares."
Cassie and I share a look. Since when does Laurel have a different stance than Zack about anything?
Laurel notices our shock and shakes her head. "You two are too gullible. Zack doesn't believe anything he says either."
"Then why does he say it?" Cassie asks.
"What's it called when a spy is so undercover, they forget who they are? They start to believe they are the person they're pretending to be?" Laurel's voice stays even—neutral—like sheisn't bothered by my barb. "That's Zack. He tried so hard to be ridiculous he forgot what he really thought. And now he's always trying to top himself. It's so old. We get it, Zack, sex. Let's move on."
"Sounds like you need to get laid," Cassie says.
Laurel rolls her eyes. "Yes, you're Ms. Sexual Satisfaction now that you have a boyfriend. We get that too."
"Is it not true?" Cassie asks.
"Of course, it's true!" Laurel huffs. "Why do you think I'm so pissed off? It's been weeks! And fucking Romeo keeps looking at me like he doesn't realize he's as big a fuck boy as Romeo fucking Montague."
"You still like him?" Cassie asks.
"I thought you hated him." I bite my tongue. I shouldn't say anything. I should stay out of it. Because I'm not really marrying into the family. Not forever. Only for three weeks. And even if I was, I know better than to offer a practical solution to the problem of a crush.
"Hates that she still loves him," Cassie says.
"I will call Zack," Laurel says. "He's the only person on my side here."
"We don't have to talk about it," Cassie says. "But you're not doing yourself any favors pretending you don't care about him."
"But I don't want to care about him!" Laurel throws her arms in the air. "It doesn't even matter. He'll leave and I won't see him for another two years. So let's talk about something else, yeah?" She doesn't give us a chance to agree or disagree. She charges forward. "Cassie, you know enough to prep Daphne. Can you do the primer and the eye makeup."
"Uh…" Cassie stares at her sister's makeup bag in horror.
"I taught you smoky eye. You've got it." Laurel picks out the cylindrical shades, sets them on the table, looks to the clothes spread over the bed. "You're even taller than Cass. That is achallenge. But I think I can make it work. There's a lot of stretch in this one." She holds up a fit and flare dress in a vibrant shade of pink. "It's not bridal, but it is festive." She switches it for a long purple sundress.
"She's talking to herself at this point." Cassie looks me in the eyes. "She usually does this for a few minutes."
Sure enough, Laurel says something about the difference between indigo and violet directly to the dress. She's already in her own world. She's already forgotten we're here.
"I'm sure she wants the chance to play makeover, but I think, mostly, she wants a reprieve." Cassie watches her sister study a blue tank top. "It's a lot for her, being near Rome. They had something for a while. He ended it, because he didn't want Dad to find out."
"That's a risky move," I say. "She's likely to run to Dad, crying over the breakup."
