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Brad looked at Sarah.
Whenever he did, it was… ambiguous as to why. But from where Isadore stood, she could tell that he was always looking to get something out of Sarah.
It was more often than not a way to find leverage in the game. That was fair. It was a competition after all, and it wasn’t like he specifically targeted just Sarah.
And there were two sides to that coin.
It was the few exceptions– the ‘genuine’ ones– that really got Isadore thinking.
Like the (supposed) time that Brad and Sarah stayed up at night, looking at the stars as they got to know each other… No offence to blondie, but Isadore lowkey thinks Sarah fully dreamt that. It sounded like something straight out of a romance novel full of wish fulfillment. That would be the best case scenario, anyway. Because if it really happened just as Sarah explained, then…
Again. No offense to Sarah.
But Isadore just didn’t trust that guy, alright?
*
Sarah looked at Brad.
She did that a lot. Even when he wasn’t around, anyone could guess she was envisioning him in her mind. Waiting for the day that he would make the first move, or whatever generic shy girl fantasy she tended to have.
Whenever she looked at him, she would have this glint in her eyes– bright and soft. It was… affectionate. Loving, even.
Sarah didn’t just look at Brad; she gazed at him, she admired him, she… liked him.
In that gross, mushy way that Isadore didn’t like to think about. She could tease Sarah about it in the past, but as time went on, it got less fun for her.
*
Sarah looked at Isadore.
Warm. Genuine. Friendly. Sometimes a bit awkward, yes, but she tried her best. And that was more than enough for Isadore. Literally.
If you told Isadore that in this competition, she would meet a girl that wasn’t even on the same team as her, and the two would get close enough to… talk regularly… enjoy each other’s company… have frequent physical contact…? She would never in a million years believe you.
It wasn’t easy to get close to Isadore. Most never even tried. So she’d beat them to the punch by having such an offputting aura that she’d fend them off before they even thought about getting close to her.
Something about Sarah let her slip through the cracks. All so naturally. Effortlessly, almost.
But there was a thing to the way that Sarah looked at her. Warm. Genuine. Friendly.
Just friendly.
And you could tell by the way that spark in her eyes when she stared at Brad would dull just the slightest bit when she’d turn her attention to Isadore.
*
Isadore looked at Sarah.
*
Isadore didn’t have anything to do before the challenge began, so she loitered around for a bit. She needed to be alone with her thoughts for a bit.
She could spot members from the other team not too far away, but she needed a moment before she could face a certain someone.
It sucked, considering this was her only friend here… or ever, really.
Weird, but she’ll live.
‘Low social battery’, she assumed.
“Woah! Did the producers give you a soft redesign? I didn’t think it was in their budget to change something THAT much.”
Drew. Of fucking course it was Drew.
Isadore let out an exhale before reluctantly turning towards him. “What are you going on about now?”
“Can I not point out blatant continuity errors?! God.” He defended himself, then pointed directly at her. “Anyway, are you wearing new contacts or something? Ones with big ol’ cartoony eye shines?! It’s tripping me out, man.”
After a pause, Isadore slapped his hand away from her face.
Drew winced and rubbed his hand, muttering, “well, they went back to normal now… Jeez.”
“...Only you’d be weird enough to notice something like that, loser.”
*
“...Brad… I don’t know if I like him because I like him, or because-... because-”
“Because Olive told you to?”
Something skipped a beat inside of Isadore.
She knew better, though. She needed to remain skeptical.
“Forget about her for a moment. Do you still like him? Even now?”
She never got an answer to that.
…She couldn’t remain hopeful. She knew how this would end. And yet…
Isadore knew Olive was full of shit. Not once did she ever believe in the whole ‘psychic’ thing, but lately, Isadore was extra suspicious of her.
Good thing that Sarah was catching onto that as well. Not to mention the things Olive had put in Sarah’s head. Knowing how earnest and gullible she could be, of course Sarah would take her vague ‘promises’ to heart. Of course sweet little Sarah would get wrapped up in some stupid love triangle involving Mr. Fratguy and that wannabe Bratz doll.
And now here she was: with a sobbing Sarah on her shoulder. Thanks to Analise being as hostile as ever for no reason.
Isadore could remind Sarah of what she asked earlier and try to get her to finally let go of Brad, that he’s not worth it. She could joke about Analise being a weird, insecure loser just taking it out on Sarah. She could do some other third thing.
But none of it felt right.
All she could do was be there for Sarah, in her feelings.
Until the sun began to set and Sarah eventually found herself resting on Isadore’s lap. Her face turned towards the TV in a fake attempt to get her mind off of things.
It didn’t work, but it was better than nothing.
The blonde sniffled quietly, stirring a bit in Isadore’s lap. “Um… Sorry…” She forced out a humorless chuckle, wiping her eye and nose with the back of her hand. “...This is s-so gross…”
Isadore couldn’t hold back a short snicker of her own, looking down at Sarah affectionately. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it…”
Reaching over to the coffee table, she offered some napkins for Sarah to feel more comfortable without feeling as though her current position was unwelcomed. It was far from it.
…It was because of Olive that Sarah even reached out to Isadore in the first place…
Maybe…
Maybe she guessed some parts of her psychic BS correctly, okay? Maybe it was just pure luck. Maybe it didn’t mean anything beyond this. Maybe she wouldn’t be used as a stepping stone in some stupid love triangle where both girls (or at least one of them) was way too good for the guy. Maybe she and Sarah would’ve still been friends without Olive’s guidance/meddling/whatever-you-wanna-call-it.
Maybe Isadore was giving herself a splitting fucking headache right now.
They stayed in silence for a while longer. Sarah calming down her breathing eventually, with some help from Isadore’s (attempts at) gentle caressing.
The clocked continued ticking.
A soft snore broke Isadore away from her half-asleep mushy thoughts.
She heard it again as she glanced down at Sarah. At peace. Probably dreaming of being in a better place than this goddamn resort. (Or dreaming of Brad, but let’s hope not.)
It was almost as if something possessed Isadore, for her hand to move downwards. Slowly. Carefully. At a nearly-frightened rate. Only for her fingers to brush through those long blonde locks. Enough for herself to feel, enough for Sarah to consider it pleasant, but she begged and prayed that it wouldn’t be enough to wake her up.
For Sarah to stay someplace she was happy in. Away from Brad. From Analise… Even if it meant away from Isadore.
Isadore looked at herself. In the camera’s screen. Eyes sparkling in a way that seemed familiar.