Best Interests

"You're well aware that I dislike this," Norma says.

Lizzie rolls her eyes. Her sister doesn't like a lot of things, and fake tattoos are one of them. She had been vocal about her disdain for them when Lizzie applied her first one a few years ago in summer camp. She had said they would give her a myriad of skin infections, and Lizzie had snapped that she'd prefer having a deadly disease than listening to her for one more minute.

"Well, then, you should be used to this," Lizzie replies, inspecting the flimsy paper. The image of a pointed, jagged elephant tusk is her choice of poison for today. She hasn't had an animal tattoo in a while, and her previous one, a fierce-looking cat with sharp fangs previously decorating on her wrist, had faded days ago.

Norma rolls her eyes. Lizzie makes a show of ignoring her as she snatches a sponge off the sink. They're standing in one of the Motherlobe's many bathrooms. Floral-scented air freshener is frequently spritzed into the room from an automatic dispenser in the corner of the room. It stinks more than it should.

Lizzie would have put on her new tattoo in her dorm, but Gisu hogged their room. She had claimed she needed it for an experiment that Otto wanted finished by the end of the day. Lizzie had almost commented that she saw Dion hidden underneath her bed and decided mentioning him wasn't worth the effort.

Lizzie had gone to the bathroom, sponge and paper design in hand, and she had unfortunately caught eyes with her sister in a lounge area. She had immediately realized Norma wanted to remark on something she found objectionable when her sister's eyes widened and mouth tightened into a thin line. And she had that opinion known by quickly following Lizzie inside the bathroom before she could lock the door.

"I just think these tattoos are excessive," Norma says, gesturing at Lizzie's arms. "I mean, are you trying to prove something? They don't look professional, and remember, Lizzie, we are Junior Psychonauts now."

"We have a guy who dresses like a wannabe sergeant, and our boss looks like he's wearing the biggest bathrobe of all time," Lizzie says, peeling the thin plastic layer off the paper. She presses the design to her wrist and lifts the sponge into the sink. Flicking on the faucet, she waits for it to warm up and adds, "And by the way, Norma, one of the Senior Agents here? Milla wasn't even wearing shoes a few days ago. She wore weird leggings that covered her feet."

When the sponge burns her hand, Lizzie withdraws it from the water. She hears Norma sigh, and her reflection in the dusty mirror adjusts her glasses. Lizzie thinks she should have gotten a smaller pair, but maybe they suit her sister's enormous ego.

"Just think about they represent," Norma insists, her gaze lowering to Lizzie's belt made of tape. "I mean, as I said, we're Junior Psychonauts now. You could dress to impress."

"Well, maybe-" Lizzie sticks the design to her wrist and presses the sponge on top of it. "-I'm dressing to depress everyone around me, including you."

The hot water makes her gnaw on the inside of her mouth. She hates the heat. It's too much like her sister, dominating and oppressive, when they aren't in sync. But she bares it with a tight, black-lipped smile as Norma furrows her brow, both of them knowing the ink is sinking into Lizzie's skin.

Norma breaks first. She huffs out a sigh and itches through her scalp. Lizzie feels sweat dampen her brow and hears Norma suck in a breath, calming herself. Norma turns away and doesn't observe the rest of Lizzie's task, Lizzie smirking to herself at her small victory.

She tosses the sponge into the sink and slowly, she tears off the paper. Decorating her wrist is the elephant tusk in a scarlet outline. She extends her arm above her head, now reminded of a crescent moon when she turns her wrist to the side.

"And done. There, that wasn't so hard, was it, Norma?" Lizzie jeers, crumpling the paper and throwing it at the trash can. It bounces off the rim and nestles into a crack in a tile.

Norma pinches the bridge of her nose. Her jaw works, but she has nothing to say. Lizzie knows there have to be countless remarks Norma must be dying to make. She's done it all her life. Criticizing, reprimanding, or gently recommending alternatives for whatever Lizzie wants, it's a persistent personality trait.

"I think," Norma begins after sighing, "that you need to grow up."

Lizzie raises her head. She narrows her eyes, her eye shadow forming dark rings around them. "Uh, 'grow up?' Seriously? Is that the best you can come up with?"

"You need to think of yourself as a Junior Psychonaut now, not as an intern," Norma replies. "Get a real tattoo if you want one so badly instead of playing with kiddie stuff."

Lizzie's mouth falls open. Heat colors her cheeks and dizzies her. She feels like she's under a spotlight held up by Norma. She tries wrapping her head around Norma's new tactic, but it leaves her annoyed when Norma offers more of her perspective.

"I do hate your tattoos, but if you want to keep this up, then you might as well commit to your aesthetic," Norma says with all the charm she can muster that would have their mother nodding along like a bobblehead.

Lizzie clears her throat. "Yeah, well-" She stops and bites her tongue. She cuts herself off from saying anything incriminatingly foolish. Taking a breath, Lizzie rests her hands on her hips and arches an eyebrow, deciding to play along with Norma's game. "Oh, really? Any reason why you had this change from your prudish ideology?" She gasps and wiggles her fingers, leaning forward. "Did Poots get in your brain and connect a few thoughts around for the better?"

Norma matches Lizzie's grin. It stretches a little higher than Lizzie likes. "Well, I believe you're entitled to what you want with your body, and I can't stop you, but I can say when you're acting like a little kid."

"And you had that grand epiphany after telling me you disliked it a minute ago." Lizzie smirks. "Hypocrite much?"

Norma doesn't answer. Lizzie leans her hip into the sink and crosses her arms. Their gazes linger on her new tattoo, and Norma holds the lens of her glasses to fully inspect it, humming to herself. Lizzie resists the temptation to telekinetically flick her forehead, the notion childish now that Norma mentioned her behavior, and she waits for Norma to speak first.

Wringing her hands in front of her waist, Norma sighs again. "Okay, well, look, I know what I can be like-"

"A narc," Lizzie finishes with a firm nod.

Norma glares at her and continues. "A narc. Fine. But I really am thinking about your future and this-" She points at her wrist. "-is in your best interest. Kind of." She purses her lips. "I mean, I'd still recommend you call this off entirely, but if you won't, then go for broke."

A bubble of laughter escapes Lizzie before she can help herself. Norma is all over the place. One minute, she's criticizing her tattoos again, and the next second, she's trying to show her supportive side. The sister who made everything her personal business suggesting that Lizzie do as she pleased being in "her best interest" almost seemed like a dream where she was about to wake up from in the middle of the night.

"I'm serious," Norma huffs, her pitch turning to a whine. "Really, Lizzie, I-"

"Yeah, okay, all right," Lizzie interjects, holding up her hand. Softening her expression, she grabs the sponge from the sink and gives it a firm squeeze. Water spurts onto Norma's face, and she yelps, her glasses catching most of the droplets. "Well, thanks, I guess. Glad to know I have your support for my future endeavors."

Taking off her glasses, Norma removes a cloth from her pocket and cleans them. She squints, her pupils wide, and she remarks, "Yes. You're welcome. I trust you'll take my advice."

"You're the boss," Lizzie says, and she turns to the door, reaching for it when Norma catches her shoulder. She looks back, unsure, and she waits.

Norma places her glasses on the tip of her nose and pushes them up. Sighing, she smooths the frizz in her hair and clips them underneath her beanie. She taps her heel on the tiles, and she drops her hands to her sides. "Fine. Sorry about that. You know what I'm like."

"Lived with you for almost my whole life, so, yeah, I do."

"But, I don't know, just consider what I said." She pauses, then smiles and adds, "For your future. You can pick a tattoo that you think you'll always like, but years down the line, you may come to hate it. After that, maybe, just maybe, you'd open your eyes and see what I meant."

Lizzie blinks. She lets Norma's words settle in her head. Slowly, her grin stretches in her cheeks, Norma mimicking her delight, and Lizzie snaps her fingers, exclaiming, "Oh, you jerk! You brought it back around to you being right and me being wrong." She smacks herself in the forehead. "I cannot believe I fell for this. I shouldn't be this gullible."

"Believe what you want," Norma says, side-stepping her and opening the bathroom door, "but like I keep saying-"

"-it's in my best interest. Got it."

Norma grins. "Exactly."

They leave together, still smiling and shooting each other snide glances. Their elbows hit each other's ribs, stopping when a few higher-ranking agents stare at them. They part at the corridor, heading off to finish their daily tasks, and glancing at her tattoo, Lizzie smirks.