I swear I won’t ask you ever again.”“Natalie, we both know that’s a lie.”“Well at least you could have acted like you believed me for a few seconds.”Samantha, usually called Sam by her friends and family, sighed as she watched her best friend of over a decade try to pout. It came across more like a child’s version of a fake cry—easily read through and yet somehow still effective. It was so unfair that Natalie could do that and still somehow look attractive. Sam would have looked like a cross-eyed fish out of water that was on its last gurgle. She sighed roughly, not that it would even work on Natalie anyway. She was the queen of getting her way, not being persuaded by others.When Natalie had called her over for a dire emergency, Sam should’ve known better than to come running immediately without asking questions first. To Natalie, a broken nail could be rationalized as an emergency given the time, place, and surrounding circumstances. Sam could remember being called over for that exact reason just two weeks before.
