Veronica

John's waiting for me at this particular bench by the beach just as I asked him to. It's the same bench where, almost a month ago, we agreed upon and arranged the details of our 'fake' relationship.

My sister Candace gives me a ride there on her bike, and when I point to John, she inches close and I hop off. John doesn't notice us right away; he's busy tapping on his phone.

"I'm guessing you're letting me talk to your boyfriend before I leave?" Candace says, parking her bike and taking off her helmet. Of course, she's already walking up to him before I can reply because it was never really a question. I follow her closely. "Well," she says, "aren't you the cutest guy I've ever met."

This gets John's immediate attention. I see his jaw drop slightly as he points a finger at himself, and then at my sister and I, this time with a frown.

This is a common reaction when people see Candace and I together for the first time. All I can manage is an embarrassed wave.

"Uhm... Hi," he says finally, standing. His eyes dart between my sister, to me, and then back to her again. My sister gives me a knowing look. This actually happens a lot.

"Yep, I know," I say, patting his shoulder. "There's no need for you to say it."

"But... you're..."

"We look alike, don't we?" my sister finishes, just to throw me off. She then extends a black nailed hand to him. "I'm Candace. And I take it you're the famous John."

He takes her hand carefully and shakes it.

"We look alike until you get to know us both," I say, mostly just to prove I'm actually here, because Candace has this way of shining so brightly I get shadowed in the process. John, however, actually notices me.

"No. I mean, she looks like you, but... older."

He's right. Candace is what I will supposedly look like in seven years. That is, if I weren't so incredibly shy. Or, if I was any kind of hot. And if my body produced a certain amount of testosterone, because, it turns out being a tomboy works awfully well for my sister.

And that's why I hate it when people say we're so alike. It only serves to remind me how different we actually are.

"He looks a lot nicer in the flesh," Candace says, looking at me until she is confident I am the correct shade of strawberry-red. Then she winks at John. "If you guys ever break up, let me know so we can spend some time together."

I expect him to go all sorts of shy and do something John-like, but instead he bursts out laughing. I don't see the humor in this, and it kind of annoys me, so I bump his arm. He doesn't budge.

"I'm sorry, Candace," he says with a sincere smile. "I'm not planning on letting her go just yet." It warms me to the core when he smiles like that, saying those things while locking eyes with my sister as if he really does believe in us and our fake relationship. I know he's just pretending, but it always makes my heart swell just the same. He's making things harder for me, though, but there's no way he knows this.

"Oh, my God. I just got rejected by a fourteen-year-old boy," she jokes. "My wounded heart needs a drink now, so I'll be seeing you guys later." She smiles at us in this warm, motherly way, and turns to me. "You're one lucky girl, Ronnie." And then, just like that, she waves and peddles off, her round, wide, girly butt swaying from side to side like a pendulum.

I'm not a lucky girl. I'm pretending to be a lucky girl.

"That was..."

"Weird, I know," I complete. "I get that a lot."

"I was gonna say fun, but okay; it was weird too," John says, smiling his widest smile ever. "It's like a very successful combination of you and Martin."

Yeah, I knew there was no chance John wouldn't like my sister. Guys are generally as infatuated with her as much as girls are infatuated with Martin.

Fun...he thought my sister was fun!

So, yeah, there's no reason for John to like me at all, when you think about it. It only makes sense that he would like my sister more than me.

I mean, okay, he's quite young for Candace. But it's not as if he didn't have better options than me. Sandra Jones from ninth grade, for example.

Yes, I did some research after talking with Martin earlier.

"Do you think I should try to be more like... more like her?" I say weakly, sitting down on the bench. John sits next to me. I would usually hold onto his arm, but not today. I don't want to appear too needy; I want to seem elegant, easygoing... confident.

"Do you think you need to change who you are?"

"I'm just asking for an opinion, John."

"Well, I'm going to answer your question with a question: should I be more like Martin?"

"I'd definitely kick your sorry butt until you went back to being you."

"Well, there you go, then. I'm not going to kick you, but I think that one Candace in the world is probably enough."

This wasn't what I expected him to say, and I'm not sure I wanted to hear this from him. It doesn't help at all knowing this. Does he think my sister is so cool and complete that there's no room for substitutes?

I force the thoughts from my head. I'm here on a mission, after all, so I get straight to it without further delay.

"John, listen. I... I need to talk to you."

He shifts in his seat, looking my way, so I know I have his undivided attention. He doesn't say anything at all; he just lets me do the talking. And that's good, because it's already hard enough to say what I want to say. I don't like this one bit, mind you, but it's something that must be done.

Because I've decided John is too good for me. I can't pin him to my side with lies forever. I need to set him free.