Free My Fake Boyfriend is Better Than Yours by Kristina Springer

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.
    â€œKetchup?” she exclaims.
    â€œYes, ketchup. I read somewhere that tomatoes are excellent for you.”
    â€œI’ve heard that too, but I thought they meant to eat,” she counters.
    â€œWhat’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.”
    â€œWell, 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.
    â€œWhat are the pickles for?” Sea asks.
    â€œBags under the eyes,” I say.
    â€œI don’t have bags under my eyes,” she replies.
    â€œMy mom says every woman has bags under her eyes,” I counter.
    â€œWell, isn’t it cucumbers for bags anyway?” she asks.
    â€œYes, but a pickle is just a seasoned cucumber. Relax.”
    â€œFine, fine,” she mutters. “But how long do I have to leave this stuff on for?”
    â€œTill it dries,” I answer. We’re both silent for the next minute, listening to the clock tick. “Sea?” I finally say.
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYou smell like Easter.”
    â€œWhat do you mean I smell like Easter?”
    â€œYou know, in a good way. Like in a baked ham–ish sorta way.”
    â€œAll right, we’re taking this stuff off,” she insists, trying to sit up.
    â€œNo.” 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.”
    â€œCan 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.
    â€œAre you going to put that on me too?” Sienna asks, eyeing the dip.
    â€œNo, 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.
    â€œThanks.” 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.
    â€œYeah, too bad I don’t have a camera!” I start to giggle too.
    â€œI’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?”
    â€œOh, 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.”
    â€œI 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