My Fake Boyfriend is Better Than Yours (7 page)

“That's so sweet!” Natalie squeals. “I love pet names.”

Tori — 1, Sienna — 0

“Do you guys have pet names too, Sienna?” Avery asks.

“Well, uh . . .” Sea hesitates. “Not really, I guess.”

“You totally should,” I say. “Not that I'm a relationship expert or anything, but I find it gives us an extra special connection, you know?” If anyone would understand how special the connection with your fake boyfriend is, it would be Sea.

Sea doesn't say anything. She looks momentarily uncomfortable and concentrates on her yogurt cup, scraping at the bottom. Avery, Natalie, and Maya start talking about this morning's dance practice. They're on the
squad together. I briefly try to look interested in what they're saying, but even I can't fake that. I wouldn't know a floor combo from a mambo.

Sea scoops up the last bit of her yogurt and examines my lunch tray. “Hey, it's pizza day and you didn't get a slice. Are you on a diet or something?”

“Me? Diet? When have you ever known me to reject food? Nah. I'm having pizza tonight at Daphne's, so I thought I'd skip it for lunch.”

“Oh. You're going to Daphne's?” Sea blinks at me, and her bottom lip pouts out.

She's jealous. Sheesh. I feel bad now. Like I shouldn't have other friends or go anywhere without her or something. Which I guess I could sorta see. She
is
the reason I have the new friends.

“It's not like we're
friend
friends,” I say, trying to make her feel better. “I mean, I don't know them very well or anything. I would totally rather hang out with you, but you said you had that Skype date with Antonio tonight, right?”

Sea looks confused.

“You told me this morning that you and Antonio were going to watch a movie and chat at the same time over Skype. Remember?” Oh my god, there's no date. Well, duh, logically I
knew
there was no date since Antonio is fake and all, but ugh, sometimes this real
boyfriend/fake boyfriend stuff gets so confusing. I forgot Antonio wasn't real for a moment.

“Oh, yeah, you're right. I almost forgot,” she says.

Oh, man. She didn't even remember that she had an online date tonight. Now she's going to be sitting home alone feeling bad while I'm having fun with Daphne and Bella. I need to give her an out so she can come hang out with us and forget this fake date nonsense.

“Sea, maybe Antonio and you can do your date on another night? That way you can come with me. It'll be fun!” There. That was very nice of me. Very mature. I pretended Antonio was real and I'm giving her the chance to break her fake date and hang with us rather than admit she's been lying about him since day one.

Sienna thinks about my offer, then finally replies, “Nah. I better keep my date. I really miss Antonio, and I know he's been looking forward to our date too.”

I try to smile, but in my head all I can hear is
Argh!
She is so frustrating with this stuff.

“Thanks for the ride, Mom,” I say as we pull into Daphne's driveway. Her house is a small brick split-level with lots of big oak and maple trees in the front yard. The kind I used to climb up into on spring afternoons and read a book in until the sun went down. When I was much younger, of course. I'm too old for tree-climbing now.

“No problem, sweetie,” Mom replies. “It's good to see you making new friends.” She puts the car in park.

“Um, whatcha doing?”

“Coming in to meet Mrs. Mason, of course.”

“Mo-om,” I groan. “Don't embarrass me.”

“When have I ever embarrassed you?” she asks.

I raise one eyebrow and stare at her, not blinking.

“All right, all right, I won't embarrass you. Come on.”

I follow Mom up Daphne's cracked sidewalk and hang back while she rings the doorbell. I turn around
and stare up into the leaves of a giant maple tree. They'll be turning a pretty orange soon. The tree reminds me of the time when Sea and I were in fourth grade and were at my house making leaf rubs. We collected all kinds of leaves and sat at the kitchen counter with colored pencils and pieces of paper. We put the paper over different leaves and colored over them with the pencils, lightly, until the imprint of each leaf appeared on the paper.

Sienna was looking out the window and said she spotted
the
perfect leaf at the top of our old maple in the front yard. I don't know what was so special about it—they all looked the same to me. But she
had
to have it. We went outside, and I watched Sea climb to the top of the tree and snatch the leaf from its branch. And then proceed to
freak out
. Her face went pale and she hugged the branch closest to her. At first I giggled because she looked so darn funny up there. But soon I realized she wasn't playing and wouldn't be coming down on her own.

I didn't know what to do, so I did the first thing that came to my mind. I climbed up there after her.

“Sea, come on,” I said when I reached her. “I'm right behind you. Start making your way back down.”

“No! I can't move. We're too high,” she said.

“Sea, you've got to move. We can't live in this tree forever. Well, if we were squirrels we could. But even
then we'd have to climb down for nuts. Unless you made me do the nut gathering. Though I don't want that kind of living situation where I'm the one doing all the work. It wouldn't be fair.”

“Tori!” Sea yelled in a shaky voice. “Don't make me laugh. I'll lose my grip.”

“Well, don't go and do that. I'm underneath you and you'll squash me,” I said.

“Tori!” Sea let out a small giggle.

I reached my hand up over my head. “Come on. Grab my hand. You know I have the grip of an orangutan so I'm not going to fall. I'll help you down.”

Sea considered this and then nodded. “Okay, but don't let go.” She peeled her left hand away from the branch and reached down. I grabbed it.

We proceeded down the tree. It was
really
difficult considering her position right over my head, but I never let go of her hand and we didn't fall. And once we were on the ground, Sea swore she was never climbing another tree for as long as she lived.

“Tori!” a giddy voice squeals.

I turn around, startled. “Hey, Daphne.” I break into a big smile.

“Are you coming in? Your mom is in the living room talking to my mom. You were just standing out here, staring at my tree.”

I shrug and follow her inside. “Yeah, I like trees.”

Ten minutes later I'm sitting cross-legged on Daphne's pink bedspread in her bedroom. Giggling. It's funny how comfortable I am here with them when only last year they never would have talked to me.

“Oh, you loved it!” Bella says, playfully slapping Daphne's shoulder.

“I did not,” Daphne says, indignant. Then suddenly she breaks out in a grin. “Okay, you're right. I loved it!” The three of us are laughing now. “You would too, though! Don't lie!”

“Duh,” Bella returns. She's referring to earlier today when Joshua Neville tripped in the library and landed right in Daphne's lap. Joshua is an eighth-grade foreign exchange student with a fantastic French accent. Most of the girls think he's cute, but he just keeps to himself. I don't think his English is all that great.

“So how are we going to expose Wittler?” Daphne asks, getting down to business.

“We could wait until the next time she's drunk in class, ask for a hall pass to the bathroom, and go get the principal,” I say. “Then she could see for herself.”

Bella shakes her head. “Nope. I don't want anyone finding out we snitched.”

“But they won't,” I protest.

“Bella's right,” Daphne agrees. “People will put two
and two together and know it was whoever left the room last. No, we have to give Principal Brown proof but without her knowing it comes from us.”

“Like an anonymous letter?”

“Yeah,” Daphne says. “But not a letter. She might not believe a letter. We have to give her good, solid proof.”

I cross my arms and think. “If only we could figure out how.” The room is quiet, and I can hear the numbers on the old digital alarm clock on the nightstand flip.

Daphne suddenly sits up straighter, a grin spreading across her face. “Bella, your brother still works at Anderson's Groceries, right?”

Bella nods.

Daphne rubs her hands together. “I think I've got it.”

I pull back the living room curtains and peek out the window for the tenth time in the last five minutes. Sienna's mom should be dropping her off any minute now for our sleepover. Mom's in her room reading a book. She's been really great. She bought all of our old favorite things—frozen pizza, potato chips and dip, and a roll of cookie dough. Yeah, I know Sea hasn't been eating anything but bird food lately, but once she sees our old favorites I'm sure she'll cave in and have some. I also pulled our favorite Lindsay Lohan DVDs off the entertainment center shelf for us to watch. Sea and I love Lindsay's old movies but would never admit that to anyone else. I figure it's one more thing to remind Sea that
I
am her best friend and
I
know the real her. Dad's right—tonight everything is going to go back to real: pre–Keys vacation, pre–hair extensions, and pre–fake boyfriends.

I peek out the window again and see Sienna's mom's shiny new Beemer pull into the driveway. “She's here!” I yell to Mom, and swing open the door.

Sienna gives her mom a quick kiss on the cheek, jumps out of the passenger door, and runs up my front walk. Even though we're just having a girls' night, Sienna looks completely adorable. She's got her glossy hair up in a high pony, and she's wearing hot pink and black layered tees and black yoga pants with some pink lettering on the butt. I'm wearing my dad's Art Institute of Chicago T-shirt, circa 1980, and a pair of his old flannel boxers, circa I didn't care to ask. They are comfy, and I found them in the back of his old dresser drawer like six months after he moved out.

I push open the screen door with a big smile. “Sea!” I exclaim. “Yay, I'm so glad you're here. We're going to have
so
much fun tonight!”

Sea gives her mom a final wave over her shoulder and comes into the house.

“Hi, Sienna,” Mom says. She must have just walked into the room. “How are you, honey? You look wonderful. Did you have a nice vacation?”

Oh good lord
, I think.
Please, oh please, don't get her started on her vacation.

“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes. And I did have a wonderful vacation. We stayed in this amazing house that
had eighteen bedrooms. Eighteen! I had three to myself alone . . .”

Too late.

About twenty minutes later and three very loud and obnoxious yawns from me in an attempt to signal Mom to return to her bedroom and her reading, Mom finally excuses herself.

“Have fun, girls. I'll be in my room if you need me. Stay in the house and don't prank-call people or chat with any weirdos online, okay? Do you need help with the oven?”

I roll my eyes. Is she serious? This from the woman who makes me bake the Christmas cookies for the neighbors each year. “We're fine, Mom.”

She nods and leaves. I turn to Sea and ask, “So what should we do first? Movie? Snacks? Makeovers?”

“I'm so in the mood for a movie,” Sea replies. “I tried to watch that one with Antonio the other night, but he wanted to talk through the whole thing.”

Blech. Antonio. I need to try harder. “Hey, how about I throw that pizza in too? Then we can eat while we watch the movie. Remember that time last year when you were laughing so hard during a movie that a little piece of pepperoni flew out of your nose?” I giggle.

Sienna gasps and grabs her nose. “Oh my god! You're
right. That stung too,” she says, and starts laughing with me. “I couldn't eat pepperoni for like two weeks after that.”

“Yeah, well, I had the visual burned into my brain. I still can't eat pepperoni pizza. We've got plain cheese tonight.”

“Cheese sounds great to me. Let's make it.”

Soon the pizza is ready, so we bring it into the living room and plop onto the floor to watch
Mean Girls
. We've seen it so many times that we take turns reciting the lines along with the actors.

When there are only two slices left and the credits are rolling, Sienna turns to me. “What do you want to do now?”

I think. “Um, how about facials?”

“Oh, I
love
facials! I had this awesome sugar scrub facial on vacation . . .”

No. No, no, no, we are not talking any more about her vacation! I cut her off. “A sugar scrub sounds easy. Let's go to the kitchen and see what we've got.”

Sienna follows me into the kitchen, but she looks reluctant. “I'm not sure normal sugar works. They used special stuff from a fancy bottle.”

“Ah, sure it will,” I assert. “Ours will be even better. It'll be
all natural
. Let's try it. Jump up on the counter
and lie down; I'll give you a facial first.” I lay two folded kitchen dish towels on the counter for Sea's head, and she gets in place.

“Are you sure this is okay? I feel weird up here. What if your mom comes in?”

“She won't mind,” I assure her. I walk over to the pantry and swing open the door. “Okay, let's see, let's see.” I scan the shelves but don't see any sugar. We must be out. Hmm. I scan them again. “We've got brown sugar. Think that'll work?”

Sienna shrugs. “I dunno. I guess so.”

I grab the bag of brown sugar and pour a bunch into a bowl. “I need a liquid now, to make it mushy for application purposes.” I open the fridge door and immediately spot the carton of orange juice. Perfect. It has 100 percent vitamin C too. That's got to be good for your skin. I pour a small amount of the juice into the bowl and mix. Soon I have a thick brown paste. “Okay, close your eyes. I'm going to put this on your T-zone.”