Martin's mischief continues the next day, and at exactly four p.m., we hear three soft knocks on the front door, just the way he plotted it. We've already spied Veronica walking up the street from the window, so Martin opens the door right away.

"You're early," he says, leaning against the frame but not letting her in. He looks at her from his now six-foot high vantage point, his emerald eyes fixed on hers, almost a foot below.

"I don't like being late for anything," she replies, trying to avoid his gaze, which I can't stress enough: is such a smart thing to do if you're a girl.

Martin turns to me, finally letting her in. "Turns out you're damn right, John," he says as she walks past him and waves at me. The alarms in my head blast as if the whole of Celadon Bay has to be evacuated at once, because here comes Martin's demonic grin—a sign that whatever is about to come out of his mouth is most likely going to be bad for me. "I never realized it before, but this girl is actually quite beautiful."

I clench my teeth, feeling the volcano from yesterday threatening to erupt in my head again, heat crawling up my neck and stacking on my flame-red cheeks. I look away, positive Veronica is wondering if I really said such thing, which I didn't. Somehow Martin knows, though, and now Veronica knows too, though it was probably pretty obvious when I reacted to that magnitude-ten earthquake yesterday by running away in horror. Smooth, John.

I'm not exactly sure of what happened after that massive macroseism, but I was kind of expecting Martin to find me cowering in my precarious spiritual retreat under the staircase nobody ever uses. But it was Veronica who found me a couple minutes later, sitting down next to me and crossing her legs. Unlikely as it may sound, her whispery voice almost startled me.

"Are you okay, John?"

It was pretty obvious I wasn't okay after I fled like that, especially if I was hiding under a dirty staircase, but I figured I could try lying.

"I'm great," I lied.

"It must be hard to have a cousin like him," Veronica conceded, although she did so with a mocking grin.

I smiled back at her. Obviously, she was right, but I really didn't feel like verbally peeling away all the complex layers of my cousin's unsavory behavior. After all, I had just survived a massive earthquake, and those things kind of drain your energy.

I looked at the staircase above us. A couple kids were walking down, making a fuss about some TV show. I took my time before I said anything.

"You'd be surprised," I said finally. I managed to muster enough bravery to look up at Veronica's face. She wasn't having any problems looking back at me. Her unblinking gray eyes were every bit as warm as ever.

"I imagine there must be a bright side to it." Her words sounded slightly stained with sadness, and for some reason, she quickly looked down at the floor.

"At first, Martin and I weren't exactly the best of friends," I explained, stating the obvious. But then she looked back at me; her icy-warm gray eyes trading sadness for curiosity. So, I told her our story, or at least how it all started, with our first beer ever, barely two months ago. She had listened to me in silence, breaking into a big smile at the end.

"He might not be as bad as I originally thought," she said, looking up at the staircase. A moment later, the bell rang, breaking the sudden silence. Finally, looking back at me, she added, "It must be great to have a brother like that."

I felt like telling her that Martin and I are cousins, but that's nothing new to her. She probably said that because that's how it feels between Martin and me.

"Martin is like the sun, and I'm like the moon," I told her, lowering my voice. Remember the cheesy comment I mentioned earlier? Here's more on that: "He shines with his own light. I shine by reflecting it."

I figured there was no way she wouldn't mock me for that.

"That sounded corny," Veronica said, stifling a laugh. And I probably looked a little offended, because she quickly added, "But I think you have your own light too, you know? It would be nice if you noticed."

"Yeah, sure." But I wasn't about to fall for that one. Martin is the one who emits light. That's how he draws attention, not like I think girls are moths or anything. I just don't need that kind of thing in my life. Low-profile Johnny, even to a fault.

"Why else would a guy like Martin be so close with you?" Veronica said.

"Because, one: we live together, and two: I am no match for him."

"If it was up to me to choose between Martin and you? I'd definitely pick you as a brother without giving it a second thought."

I considered her words for a second. Would I be fishing for compliments if I asked her why? That aside, I didn't see why either of them would choose me as anything. I was just so plain and boring.

Veronica answered my questions before I got to ask them: "I mean, I don't know you well enough yet so this is just a hunch, but it's painfully obvious who the devil between the two of you is. I imagine you're sort of a hand brake to him. Like, while he's busy messing with you, he doesn't have enough time to be such a rascal." She had stopped for a second then, carefully considering what to say next. "Yep. I'd definitely pick you as my brother, because you seem gentle, sensitive, and caring."

I looked at her for half a second and my lips charged without my consent.

"I'm available, if you're interested."

"Available for what?"

"Uh..." I realized what I'd just said, and embarrassment covered me like a huge, itchy blanket. I looked at the floor, at the short distance between us. Somehow, I'd managed to mumble, like I was speaking Swahili, "I can be your brother too, since it's so supremely cool to you."

Now, a day later, as Martin tries so badly to crush over such a beautiful fraternal relationship, putting into my mouth words I never said, I'm not surprised when Veronica laughs him off.

Because this apparently small and frail-looking sister is no pushover. Oh, hell no, she isn't! In fact, I'm about to learn she's quite strong and courageous when she's pushed like this. So when she stops laughing, she stands tall, holds her chin up high, and walks slowly and gracefully to where I'm sitting in the armchair. With a wide, confident smile, she puts both her arms around me (this being our first official physical contact ever, btw), and tells Martin in maybe twenty-two decibels (so far a shocking record), "You probably think you've monopolized John, and if you do, I'll have you know: that's over now. Because now? You're sharing him with me."

But Martin misunderstands her words. I mean, of course he does. After all, she said nothing about us being newfound siblings. She only told him now I'm shared property.

Martin's features light up as his beacon smile takes over his face, his big green eyes looking right at me and clearly saying "WELL DONE, JOHN!!"

And because it's a life rule, that being that when anything can go wrong, it will, Aunt Sugar chooses this exact moment to wake from her nap and walk in, finding us, as in Veronica and me, cuddling in her living room like something we aren't. I see her face turn white; her mouth agape, her whole expression turning into one of heartfelt disappointment.

I want to jump out of Veronica's arms and tell her that this is a huge misunderstanding, but I'm rooted, unmoving, Aunt Sugar's despair pulling me down like a block of concrete, drowning me like in those old-school cartoons I used to watch as a kid.

Aunt Sugar says nothing at first, but her bright green eyes (same shiny emerald green Martin inherited) speak for her as she slowly shuts them. She takes a long, slow breath, building up the drama, and after a while, her face gains some color again. She finds it in her to give us a little, bitter smile, and finally says to me, "It looks like it runs in the family..." And as she glances at her son, who stands there with his mischievous grin plastered on his ungodly face, I understand what she means.

This makes me swim all the way to the shore again, despite the attached concrete block.

"No, no, no, no! Don't put me in the same bag with THAT one," I say, finding my voice and pointing an accusatory finger at my cousin. After all, he's the one guilty for getting me into this whole mess.

Veronica stands up like she has springs in her knees. Visibly flustered, yet clearly determined, she finally manages to speak up.

"J-John's right." And then she adds, very poetically, "That one over there is like the sun. John's like... the moon..." and her sixteen decibels go down under my earshot threshold. I never knew that such fair skin as hers could turn such a deep shade of red.

At this, Aunt Sugar finally warms up. She walks to us slowly, carefully, but instinct makes me hide pathetically behind Veronica. Aunt Sugar shifts her gaze to her son again, now hard enough to bore holes through his skull."

"Martin? The sun?" It sounds so dark and skeptical, and it's obvious my aunt is scratching that expression right off the list. I sneak a glance at my cousin to gauge his reaction to what his mother has just said, but the bastard appears unaffected by her words. He even wears a proud smile.

"My son is the devil's incarnation," Aunt Sugar hisses. "For the life of him, he wouldn't be able to shine with his own light, even if he wanted to."

"Love you too, Mother."

Then Aunt Sugar turns to us and is all Sugar again. "But John here is carved from different wood. He does have light of his own, and without him, Martin wouldn't shine half as much." She looks at Veronica. "Look, Sugar, I don't know who you are, and I'm not really sure that you're old enough to be dating in the first place, no offense, but if you're trying to make up your mind between these two, and you've decided upon John, you've earned my respect because he's clearly the right choice."

Needless to say, I'm beyond all levels of embarrassment, but there's also a hint of pride curving my mouth into a stupid smile. Take that, Martin!

"But, you know? We're not dating," Veronica says at last, and does so with such simplicity and honesty that, I'm not going to lie, I feel a little tug in my chest. "Martin wants us to date, that much is pretty obvious, but we're... like... adoptive siblings."

"What?! That's bullshit!" Martin screams, pointing another accusatory finger at us. "Look at John trying to hide there! He's just turned beet red! It's obviously a lie!"

"That's because he knows the meaning of shame. Very much unlike you, my dear son," Aunt Sugar says.

Martin growls as he rushes to the kitchen to get some water. He probably thought he had this game won, and Veronica proving him wrong is driving him crazy. On his way back, glass in hand, he's so disturbed that he spills a little of his water on the carpet.

"But Mom, just look at them together. Get up, you prick!" He says, yanking me to my feet until so I'm forced to stand next to Veronica. "Don't they look just perfect together?"

Veronica and I exchange looks. I'm still as red as the devil himself; I can feel my blood boiling in my face. Veronica's face doesn't take long to morph into a very similar shade of red as our silent eyes plan our escape. Or at least that's what mine are doing; trying to convey an escape plan to her. I'm not sure if it's working.

To my dismay, Aunt Sugar looks at us as if considering Martin's words. "I don't know, Marty. Isn't she a bit too young?"

"She looks very young indeed, but she's in our class, so..."

"So." Aunt Sugar turns to Veronica. "You're fourteen years-old, too?"

I'm not sure what happens next, because I finally get fed up with this autopsy-room convo between my aunt and cousin. Something other than my own blood starts boiling inside me, and it drowns out my better judgment. An idea starts to form under my own fuming anger. The brilliant idea speaks to me aggressively, as if I'm unbelievably stupid, and it has to repeat itself several times in order for me to understand: Give him what he wants, or he'll never let it go.

I have no idea what's going on anymore. I don't even know what the conversation is about at this point, and it seems that even Veronica has now joined in with their nonsense. So, before I can regain my senses, I execute what, in my head, sounds like the ultimate plan. So, I not only hold Veronica's hand: I lift it up for Martin to see. In my periphery, Veronica's jaw drops silently as she turns an even deeper shade of red than before.

"You know what, Martin?" I say, kissing her beautiful knuckles for further impact, and the fire coursing beneath her skin almost burns my lips. "I wanted to keep it a secret from you, but you know what? You're right. We did start dating yesterday." Veronica is about to speak, but I don't allow her to say a word. "No, don't. It's not worth it. If we don't spill the beans, he's gonna be pestering us forever."

And so, I look at my cousin with a mix of rage and disdain. I truly hate that he looks more pleased than surprised. I stand a little taller. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going for a walk with my girlfriend."

I walk past my family, pulling Veronica along with me, who miraculously allows me drag her outside without protest. We walk out the front door and head down the street. I don't look back. And if someone's making any attempt to talk to me at all, I'm oblivious to it. I gain speed as we walk around the corner, and when I'm absolutely sure nobody at home can see me anymore, my strength and resolve finally crumbles a little.

Cool thing is, Veronica doesn't try to let my hand go. She doesn't say anything either. But my action-hero adrenaline rush is already vanishing, leaving me all wobbly and weak. My heart feels like a jackhammer trying to bulldoze through my chest, so I finally let her hand go, falling dramatically to my knees. I have to take a few deep breathes to calm down.

The wind whispers in at sixteen decibels: "John?"

"It's like you said. He wants us to date. If we don't go along with this, he's never going to leave us alone."

She sits on her heels beside me, gazing into my eyes. Her perfectly straight black hair falls over her face, and she carefully tucks a strand of it behind her ear.

"So, we're going to lie to him, then?"

"It sounds better than having Martin pestering us all the way to college, don't you think?" A sardonic laugh escapes me before I finally manage the guts to look at her. "It's all I can think of; the only way I can stop him from putting you through these awkward situations."

"Isn't it going to be suspicious when he doesn't find us, uh... holding hands? Cuddling? You know... doing couple stuff?" She looks away before she finishes saying this. She blushes a little, too, her eyes busy looking everywhere at once, trying to find something to focus on so she doesn't have to focus on me.

"We can make it work somehow, I think," I tell her, almost convincing myself. "After all, we're not going to do any couple stuff with him around, are we?"

"I don't know, John. This is a pretty crazy plot." But even as she says this, a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Is this such a bad idea she's even laughing it off? "Martin won't be the only one thinking we're dating, right?"

"I guess not," I say, more a sigh, really. "I'll have to talk to Martin later and fix this mess somehow." I stand up with newfound strength, beaming at her. "After all, if I'm your brother, I can't be your boyfriend, can I?"

"No, wait. It might not be such a bad idea." Her smile widens, and then she laces her arm through my own. "If you don't mind pretending to be my boyfriend, do you think it could make Carter and Oakley give up?"

"Carter and Oakley? What about them?"

"They've both been a bit on the intense side lately, trying to get me to date them. But, honestly, I don't really like either of them that way."

I look at her now cheerful eyes and give this new information some thought. Up until now, I never considered the fact that someone else (someone that isn't me) could be interested in Veronica. But it's pretty obvious why these guys like her. She's such an adorable girl. And really, I'm pretty lucky I get to be her pretend-boyfriend. This is going to solve a whole bunch of things, especially for her. So, if she's up to it, this is definitely worth a shot.

"Would you really prefer being my girlfriend?"

She laughs several decibels above the usual sixteen. Then she shoots me this perfect grin, her gray eyes squinting just a little. And then she winks at me, making my heart swell with something that unmistakably feels like love.

"Why? Are you actually asking me out?"

And for a second, I run out of air. She stands even closer to me, still clinging to my arm, her whole body pressed tight against my own. Then she drags me all the way to the beach, holding me like that the whole time. We speak about so many things, and it's difficult to fit them all inside this perfect afternoon, including the details of 'The Faux Plan.'

At the end of the day, there's only one thing I don't tell my newly-found sister:

Yeah. I want to ask you out. You know... as in real dating.