There was a rumor that Lee and I were gay which we did not exactly dispel. Though we never made out for our own sake we were prone to launching into a little tonsil hockey to amuse her stepbrother. Ian and his male-pattern-baldness friend would lure us into his room for drinks and general goofiness. We would listen to Duran Duran in Ian’s room, walls plastered with Nagle prints (I swear he had fifteen, it looked like a hair salon). Eventually, as if they just thought of it, one of the guys would suggest truth or dare. We always agreed.

The questions/dares were always sexual. Ian always wanted Lee and I too make out, “Open mouthed, full bodied kissing.” He once dared me to lick whipped cream off Lee’s chest (how very dairy).

We obliged and laughed. Silly boner pants boys, their every desire so obvious. We were more than aware of our control over them.