My Fake Boyfriend is Better Than Yours (8 page)

Sienna complies and I scoop a handful of the sugar onto her face. It drips down the sides and a little bit goes into her right ear.

“Ah!” she screams. “It's cold!” Another dribble makes its way down into the corner of her mouth. “But surprisingly tasty.”

I giggle. “Added benefit to the Tori's Super
Spectacular Sugar Scrub.” I grab a towel and wipe up the sugar before it hits her hair.

“Okay. Now I want to work on your cheeks. Eggs. We need eggs.” I head back to the refrigerator.

Sienna's eyes dart in my direction, but she doesn't move her head. “Eggs? What are you going to do with eggs?” Her voice is bordering on panicky.

“Don't worry. They're great for your face, I swear. They tighten your skin and shrink your pores.”

“They do?” she asks.

“Well, sure. Haven't you ever heard of the phrase ‘egg on your face'? That's where it came from,” I reply.

“Oh. Okay,” she relents. “How do you know all of this stuff about facials?”

“I read a lot,” I tell her. Which is true, but not in this case. In this case, I'm winging it.

I take out two eggs and walk back to Sea. She's watching me carefully. “How are you going to put those on me?” she inquires.

Hmm. “Scrambled,” I announce. I take out another bowl and a whisk and set to scrambling. I add a splash of milk and salt and pepper out of habit. When the eggs are ready, I use the whisk like a paintbrush and paint egg all over Sea's face.

“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” Sienna says.

“Yes, yes. Just hold still.” I finish applying the eggs and examine my handiwork. It's getting there, but she needs something else. I've got it! I head back to the fridge for a third time and pull out a big bottle of ketchup.

“Ketchup?” she exclaims.

“Yes, ketchup. I read somewhere that tomatoes are excellent for you.”

“I've heard that too, but I thought they meant to eat,” she counters.

“What's good for your inside is good for your outside,” I return. “Besides, the ketchup will help keep the eggs moist on your face. It's about layering.”

“Well, they
are
getting hard,” she agrees. “Okay.”

I squirt ketchup all over her face and then use my fingers to spread it out. It looks pretty good, I have to admit. But I feel like I need something to really top it off. I swing open the fridge door and scan the contents again until my gaze settles on just the right thing. Pickles. I take out the jar of pickle chips and tell Sienna to close her eyes. I place a big pickle chip on each of her eyes. “There, you're perfect,” I declare.

“What are the pickles for?” Sea asks.

“Bags under the eyes,” I say.

“I don't have bags under my eyes,” she replies.

“My mom says every woman has bags under her eyes,” I counter.

“Well, isn't it cucumbers for bags anyway?” she asks.

“Yes, but a pickle is just a seasoned cucumber. Relax.”

“Fine, fine,” she mutters. “But how long do I have to leave this stuff on for?”

“Till it dries,” I answer. We're both silent for the next minute, listening to the clock tick. “Sea?” I finally say.

“Yeah?”

“You smell like Easter.”

“What do you mean I smell like Easter?”

“You know, in a good way. Like in a baked ham–ish sorta way.”

“All right, we're taking this stuff off,” she insists, trying to sit up.

“No.” I put an arm out to stop her and let a tiny giggle escape. She really does look pretty funny. “Just a few minutes more.”

“Can I at least take the pickles off and sit up? I'm hungry again.”

I think about this. “Okay.” I grab her hands and help pull her up to a seated position.

I take out a container of French onion dip and put it on the counter.

“Are you going to put that on me too?” Sienna asks, eyeing the dip.

“No, we're going to eat this.” I take a bag of potato chips out of the pantry, rip it open, and set it next to Sea.

“Thanks.” She takes a chip and dips it. She pops it in her mouth and then touches her face with one finger and pulls it back to examine it. “I can't believe I let you do this to me.” She giggles.

“Yeah, too bad I don't have a camera!” I start to giggle too.

“I'm really broken up about that, let me tell you,” she says. “Hey, remember that time in fourth grade when we gave ourselves elaborate makeup jobs with my markers?”

“Oh, my gosh, yes! That was hysterical. Your lids were completely pink from eyelash to eyebrow and mine were purple. And we had those big red circles on our cheeks. Your mom about had a heart attack.”

“I know. She kept saying your mother was going to kill her. She relaxed after we told her it was washable marker though,” Sea adds.

We continue laughing and eating potato chips. Dad was so right. Everything feels normal again. I have my old Sea back.

I'm feeling very confessional all of a sudden, and I decide I'm going to tell Sea everything—how I completely made Sebastian up because I was hurt from being ignored the last half of the summer and feeling a little jealous and competitive over the new attention she's been getting. And then she'll admit that she made Antonio up as well and we'll have a good laugh over how silly we both were. I open my mouth to speak.

“Man, could you imagine if Antonio saw me like this?” Sea asks. “Talk about testing your love—”

“Oh, stop it already, Sea, geez,” I blurt out, completely irked that she ruined the moment with her incessant Antonio talk.

Sienna stops eating chips and gives me a startled look. “Stop what?”

All of this ridiculous made-up boyfriend bragging, I want to say. But I can't get the words out. So I stall instead. “Er, um, double-dipping your chips,” I say, and pull the chip dip away from her.

“Sea? Sea?” I pause, listening for her breathing. “Are you asleep?” The room is dark and Sea and I are in our sleeping bags lying on the floor in my bedroom, head to head. I was talking about visiting my dad last weekend as a kind of lead-in to the Talk. I thought we could have
a heart-to-heart about this fake boyfriend stuff now that we've had this nice familiar night and it's dark and she can't see my face and I can't see hers to know if she's mad or what. And if either of us cries, the other won't know. But now she went and fell asleep. Well. She knows the rules of First to Sleep. Of course, we didn't
say
we were playing First to Sleep tonight, but it's been a pretty typical thing at our sleepovers so Sea should know better.

I sit up on my knees and begin to rummage through Sienna's backpack, looking for something to freeze. Perfect! Socks. Sea's no stranger to going home in a frozen bra or not being able to brush her teeth in the morning because her toothpaste is a brick. And I've had my share of frozen T-shirts. But neither of us has done socks before. I quietly slip out of the room and head for the kitchen. I fling open the freezer door and toss Sienna's balled up socks toward the back. I grab a lone cookie off a plate on the table on my way out and head back to my room.

My alarm clock says it's 11:34. Way too early for any good sleepover to shut down. I can't believe Sea fell asleep on me like that. She must be really wiped out from all of her storytelling.

Might as well go online. I launch my instant messenger for a quick peek to see if any of my friends are on. Dad!

 

TorItUp:
What are you doing online at this hour?

jbarnes:
Hey! That's my line.

TorItUp:
Sienna's sleeping over and she already conked out. I'm bored.

jbarnes:
Would your mother let you on this late? Don't respond to any messages from strangers.

TorItUp:
You neither!

jbarnes:
Did you two clear things up?

TorItUp:
Not exactly.

jbarnes:
???

TorItUp:
Well, we had fun and everything. I guess things aren't familiar enough for her though because she's still lying.

jbarnes:
Hmm. I vote for getting things out in the open. Tell her how you're feeling over breakfast tomorrow. But wait until her mouth is full to talk to her about it. That way if she feels ambushed she can think about what she wants to say while she's chewing.

TorItUp:
Interesting technique. I may use it the next time you ask me what grade I got on my math test.

jbarnes:
All right, dearest. Now sign off
and straight to bed. Remember, no talking to weirdos on the Internet.

TorItUp:
But I'm talking to you . . .

jbarnes:
Love you!

TorItUp:
Love you back!

 

I smile to myself and sign off IM per Dad's request. He's so cute when he parents via telecommuting.

Pluck my feathers and stick a plastic timer in my butt because I'm a C-H-I-C-K-E-N.

I had the best of intentions to take Dad's advice and talk to Sienna over breakfast this morning. Really, I did. There we were at the kitchen table, a box of Fruity Pebbles between us, and I couldn't bring myself to do it. It felt so confrontational, and I hate confrontation. And besides, why should
I
be doing all the work? She should be remembering old times and feeling like things are
normal
with us after our sleepover and come clean, right? She's the one who lied first.

No, my best friend is some kind of compulsive liar. That's all there is to it. She can't help herself. Maybe she doesn't even know she's doing it. Maybe she's delusional. She obviously needs help and nobody sees it but me. The sleepover wasn't enough to get Sienna to stop
the lying. I'm not sure what is. She said she was going to IM Antonio as soon as she got home today.

It's Saturday afternoon, and Sienna's mom picked her up from my house over an hour ago. Something needs to happen soon, and I'm not aware of any twelve-step programs for girls with fake boyfriends. Sea and I have been best friends since kindergarten, so if anyone is going to get her to kick the lying habit, it's going to have to be me. Like that time with the maple tree—I'm going up to get her.