I loved my little brother Mike, and we got along great.
But I was always jealous of my friends who had sisters, especially older sisters with feathered hair, designer jeans, and braces.
When we moved from New York to Florida, I started this hellacious lie with my new best friend, Stacy.
You know one of those lies from you told when you were younger, where once you started, you just couldn’t stop?
Stacy had the older sister described above and I worshipped her and admired their relationship. I was so envious that I created a fake sister of my own.
I told Stacy that my sister was still back in New York, finishing out the school year, and would be moving to Florida to be with us come summer. Obviously, I didn’t think this lie through at all - I mean, what was I going to do once June rolled around?
I was too busy conjuring up the coolest, prettiest, most rockin’ older sister on the face of the planet to think about that.
Here were some “facts” about my “sister”:
• Her name was Bianca, named after Bianca Jagger, naturally.
• She was a bad girl, who had a bad boy boyfriend named Jordan, and they both smoked cigarettes.
• She had luxurious feathered hair, wore designer jeans, and had braces.
• She taught me everything I knew about everything.
I found a picture in my middle school yearbook of an older, pretty girl named Paige, cut it out and put it in my wallet.
Now anytime Stacy had a cool story about her sis, I could bust out an even cooler story about Bianca. Poor Stacy, having to endure her new friend trying to out-sister her, and poor me, continually spinning the web of lies that would eventually come crashing down on me.
I mean, how long could I keep up the act? Stacy would come over and mention Bianca in front of my mom or dad, and my parents would just look at her like “Who the hell is Bianca" as I rushed her out of the room.
I would tell Stacy that my parents were really upset with Bianca, because she got busted smoking pot and they were acting like she had never been born. Stacy thought that was just awful and comforted me because I was so upset with my mom and dad.
At this point I began to get into what I call Level Five Lying.
I would fake phone calls with Bianca while Stacy was in the room, or say she had just visited over the weekend and given me these cool new ankle socks with ruffles on them. Stacy questioned why I didn’t mention that she was coming to visit, and why I didn’t have her over to meet her. I would just say I didn’t think about it because Bianca and I were too busy shopping, catching up, and smoking.
I soon realized I would have to start pulling stunts like in the movie 9 to 5, where Judy, Violet and Doralee were trying to cover up the fact that they had Mr. Hart held prisoner in his own home, so they had to make it look like he was still coming in and out of the office. They would leave his lit cigar and leave it in the ashtray, push a button on the elevator so it went down, and then tell Roz, “you just missed him.” But I knew I didn’t have the energy for all that.
I really knew it was time to give Bianca the heave-ho when I started to daydream about buying a mannequin that I could sit next to me in the car so it looked like my sister was here for a visit. I even saw a gorgeous blonde wig that I considered buying in case I ever did purchase that mannequin.
So I just stopped talking about Bianca.
I took her picture out of my wallet.
I pretended like she didn’t exist, which…well…she didn’t, so that was easy!
Eventually Stacy just stopped asking about her. I’m sure she figured out that she was a figment of my imagination and was just being nice by not calling me out on it.
Looking back on it, what was I thinking? I mean a little white lie here or there is fine, but conjuring up a person? With a name and a photo? Not good.
You know what would have been good though?
Going through with the whole mannequin/wig/car passenger plan, like a scene from some bad ’80’s movie.
THAT would have progressed me to a Level Six Lie, for sure.
|Me, Stacy, and a girl who I would have killed for to be my older sister.|