Faking It with the Frenemy

At least her hair doesn’t look like a bird’s nest today. “So. No more teasing your hair?”

“Yeah,” she says, going to the couch and sitting down.

Oh, crap. I realize I paused the movie at a part where bullets are flying and bodies are getting shredded. I turn off the TV, hoping Vi didn’t catch any of it.

Champ lies at Vi’s feet, giving me a “you’re a negligent adult” look.

Yeah, yeah, stop being so judgmental. I wasn’t expecting a ten-year-old to show up at my door.

“Nobody at my school does anyway,” Vi says suddenly.

It takes me a moment to catch up to the conversation. Oh, teasing hair. I park myself next to her. “So why were you doing it?”

“Mom used to do it all the time. I was just curious.” She looks down at her hands, running her thumbs over the tips of her neatly trimmed fingernails. “Just trying to be more like her, you know?”

I nod, since I can’t voice what I really think. The last person Vi should ever want to emulate is Geneva, who’s not just your garden-variety crazy, but an honest-to-God sociopath. Not the kind of truth you can tell a child, though. Every child should be allowed to believe their parents are wonderful and loving…until they’re old enough to figure out the truth for themselves and cope.

“But I really want to learn how to contour. It’s so annoying because it looks so easy on YouTube,” Vi says.

She’s way too young for makeup. Shouldn’t Wyatt be on top of this? On the other hand, if I tell her she’s too young, it’ll only make her want to do it more. I need a different tactic. “You know,” I say slowly, like I’m giving it some serious thought, “I think your skin’s too good to cover up with makeup.”

“Really?” She can’t hide the sparkle in her eyes, even though she’s trying her best to look cool and unaffected. “But you have perfect skin and you use makeup.”

“Perfect? Ha.” I lower my face and pull my hair back so she can see some unmade skin. “See the dark spots here and here?” I point at my cheeks and neck. “And this little blemish on the tip of my chin?”

Vi squints, then nods. “Yeah. But they don’t look that bad. I mean, I didn’t even know you had them when you had stuff on your face.” Her eyes narrow. “Hey, you’ve got a scar.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal.” I smile to put her at ease. I know it bothers some people. It still bothers me at times, but mostly because it reminds me of how poorly I selected my friends when I was younger. In retrospect, it’s obvious Geneva only liked me because I helped her with her homework and I had a couple of rich dads who gave me lots of stuff. “But anyway, the flaws in my skin are what I’m trying to cover up when I use foundation. Now look at your skin, Vi.” I reach into my purse and pull out a compact. There’s a small mirror inside the case. “It’s flawless. And everyone who uses makeup, you know what they’re doing? They’re trying to have your complexion.”

Her mouth forms a small O.

“And your eyelashes are long, curly and thick.” She has Wyatt’s lashes, luckily. Geneva’s have been always a bit thin and short. God must’ve realized she didn’t deserve any better. “Again, what I’m trying to have with mascara. If you really want, you can try some light eye shadow, but the only thing you really need is a good sunscreen, which should help you keep your skin nice and healthy for a long time. I wish I’d started using it earlier. I didn’t start until four years ago.”

“Oh.” She stares at my face, deliberately keeping her gaze above my jaw.

It makes me squirm a bit. I don’t like it when people stare up close. “Tell you what. If you want, I’ll take you shopping.” Whoa, what the hell made me say that? It isn’t like I like shopping with kids. It’s just… Well. Vi seems like she could use some older female help, other than what’s on YouTube or based on her experience with Geneva.

“Really? Now?”

“No. Not right now. Maybe later, if your dad doesn’t mind.” I don’t feel comfortable taking her shopping without her dad’s permission. Wyatt might have plans…to take her himself or something. “And you need to do your homework first.”

She makes a face. “Do I have to? Nobody needs to learn math. We have computers for that.”

“Yeah, but what if Skynet takes over the world, and you can’t use computers?”

She thinks for a moment. “What does a cable company have to do with using computers?” she asks, confusion still lingering in her eyes.

I almost laugh. “Skynet isn’t a cable company, although it sounds like maybe it could be. It’s a super-evil worldwide comp

uter network that controls killer robots and causes an apocalypse.”

The confusion’s gone, replaced by the mild cynicism and arrogance of a child trying hard to look more grown-up that she really is. “So it isn’t real.”

“No. But it could be, at the rate AI is improving.”

“Yeah, but we can control it. Otherwise we wouldn’t be making it.”

Oh, my sweet child. If people only made things they could control, they wouldn’t be making babies. Just ask my mom.