“C’mon, just a little bit…” she cooed.

“Get it away from me, will you? I hate that stuff.”

Fooling his sister was easy enough, but just the thought of keeping it up forever nauseated him.

As Julia jabbed her brush at him yet again, he snapped. Grabbing her brush, he cracked it like a twig. “Just drop it,” he yelled, making her storm out in protest to tell on him.

Alone, Mike turned to the mirror. He picked up the smaller end of the broken brush and tried on the blush that lingered on the bristles.

It wasn’t so bad.