Him & I

44

"Help me zip this up," Danielle says, strutting into my bedroom all dolled up in makeup and a silk white gown that stops right above her knee. Without being zipped up it's already hugging her lower body curves.

Though once I'm done helping with the zip, her curves are all over the places. We've both got what annoying fashionistas call 'a pear body shape', which is basically being thin waist up and chubby hips down. But Danielle's even much curvier, kinda like my body's mega version. It should make her more insecure if she were me, but she's not. She's Danielle-Soledad Martinez.

"Thanks." She chimes once I'm done, and begins checking out the cosmetics on my dresser. "Are you using make-up?"

"Not.. really? I was planning on just eyeliner."

"Not trying any concealer?"

"Soledad." I groan.

"What?" She starts laughing. "It's red, okay? And you're pale. I swear it's so goddam obvious."

We've been good since last night. I don't really know how it happened but at some time after dinner, I found myself gushing about Tyler to her and every little thing that's been going on with us, while she hung off the sofa with a mischievous grin on her face. Then at one point she called out my pimple.

She'd already done that once during dinner. I just think that's how it happened. I was asked to pass her the salt shaker and she said thanks, nice pimple.

We proceeded to go back and forth on it but it's not a topic I genuinely feel triggered about. I'm glad that as pessimistic and insecure as I can be, pimples has never been something that irked me. I don't know why. I guess, it's just the fact that I know it's a phase, something natural at my age and will certainly— well, hopefully— not last forever.

So whenever she brings it up, I tell her to let it go. But those who know my sister can testify that the opposite of Danielle-Soledad, is let go.

"I'm using eyeliner and that's that."

"Fine." She drawls, facing the mirror as she applies lip gloss. "Go around town with your pimple face."

"Pimple face? It's on my chin and is barely visible, Soledad." I counter, also checking my face out in the mirror, and tilting my head up to check out the pimple too 'cause... you know. I almost get a bit uncertain but quickly remind myself it's totally normal. Plus I've too many insecurities to add occasional pimples to the list. "We both know you're just trying to do my makeup."

"And is it too much to ask?" She cries out, "What's the harm in a sister trying to showcase her extreme expertise on your bland dull facial features?"

"The harm is that you're not an expert." I say. Even though I know It's all talk. Danielle's a natural beauty but her makeup does make her even prettier, she has a way of bringing out her eyes with that wing liner, and her face looks so glossy I can probably see my reflection on it. But making yourself up is different from making someone else up. Plus, the occasion is nothing special— if anything, I should want to hide back at home. So, eye liner would just have to do it for me like it does every other day. "Also calling me bland and dull is definitely not a good marketing strategy on your part."

"I'm joking, anyway, you look alright." She caps the gloss and flashes me a smile. To which I return with a scowl and she laughs. "Okay. Your dress is nice too."

"Is it?" I ask, hypothetically though 'cause I really do think it is nice. It's a teal A-line dress that goes a little above the knee and is studded with precious stones. I bought it last year for an event of dad's I ended up not going to, crazy because the outfit cost a few thousand. But at least now I get to wear it.