“You know, for someone who owns, like, a million of these, you barely ever paint your nails, Lot!” Nat points out, with her head tipped back as she sinks further into Lottie’s ridiculously plush couch and examines her own, freshly painted nails. Nat twists the cap back onto the bottle, a deep shade of red she’d snatched from Lottie’s vanity.

She smirks when Lottie calls back from the kitchen, where she’s currently mixing some fancy cocktails: “That’s what I have you for,” she teases, the clink of ice against glass punctuating her words. Her TV hums in the background, playing a cheesy rom-com none of you are really paying attention to.

Nat huffs and wiggles her fingers in front of you. “What do you think? Not bad, right?”

You eye her nails skeptically. The color is nice, but the polish is a little uneven, the edges messy. Nat follows your gaze and grins. “Okay, so I’m a little out of practice, but I’ll do yours next, promise I’ll actually try!”

The last time you let Nat do something like this, she convinced you to let her cut your hair in her trailer’s tiny bathroom, and while the results of a high-on-weed Natalie chopping strands off were not as bad as they could’ve been, you’d learned your lesson.

Lottie, finally joining you both, settles in beside you on the couch, one glass cool against your knee as she holds it out. “You should let her,” she says over a sip from her own drink. “It’s self-care day, after all.”

Nat leans in, holding the nail polish between her fingers. “Come on, I’ll let you pick the color!”

Between Lottie’s expectant look and the way Nat is already bouncing a little in excitement, you know you’re going to give in. With a sigh, you reach for the bottle. “Fine, but if you mess it up, you’re fixing it!”

Nat’s smile widens as she pops the cap open.