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“What do you think?” Erica asked, tucking the end of her makeup brush between her teeth.
“Great,” Cora drawled, laying on Erica’s bed with a graphic novel held above her.
“I don’t know why I ask you for anything,” Erica sighed. She turned back to Isaac, still staring owlishly up at her, face held in her hand, and examined the makeup she’d already put on him. “Can I paint your nails?”
“Sure? You can do whatever you want.”
“Do the green one,” Cora said.
“Oh, now you have an opinion,” Erica snarked.
“Do I get an opinion?” Isaac asked.
“No.”