Truth or Dare

by Barbara Dee

  At breakfast early Saturday morning, she suggested a distraction: bra shopping. At first I thought she was joking.

  “You mean you really want some blueberry pancakes, right?” I said.

  “Okay, I deserved that,” Aunt Shelby admitted, smiling. “But this time, Lia, no fibbing. I promise.”

  I thought about it. “I don’t know. Last time you forced me to get what you wanted.”

  She clasped her hands on her chest. “I won’t even come inside the store. You can get whatever you want. Within my budget, of course.”

  I almost said no. But then I remembered about the volleyball incident and Ms. Bivens recommending a sports bra for my “girls.” I also considered my maybe-possible boob sighting in the bathroom mirror. Plus, I could see that my aunt was trying to make up for stuff. And if I could shop at Shy Violet’s without her interference . . . I said yes.

  By ten o’clock we were at the mall. Aunt Shelby had brought along her laptop so she’d have something to do while I was inside the store. I watched her sit herself on a bench, open her computer, and then just space out looking at three teen girls who were debating Starbucks versus Dunkin’ Donuts.

  Something weird must have happened to my brain, because I decided to ask her to help me shop.

  “Niecelet, I think I’m going to cry,” she said. I could see she meant it too. She pulled a tissue out of her computer bag to dab her eyes.

  I made myself laugh. “Why? Because we’re buying sports bras?”

  “Don’t make fun, Lia. It’s just the whole thing.” Her voice was quivery. “Your mom taking me bra shopping when I was in seventh grade, now me taking you. It’s like one big circle, you know?”

  “I guess.”

  I thought she was going to launch into a speech about the circle of life, or maybe positive energy in the universe. But instead she said something that made my throat ache: “I wish Jessie could be doing this for you, buttercup. It’s so unfair that she isn’t. I know she would be so proud of how you’re growing up, and I don’t just mean in the boob department.” Aunt Shelby kissed my forehead. “But if anyone besides Jessie has to be here with you right now, I’m very glad it’s me.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  We bought five un-weird sports bras that I could actually see myself wearing. In fact, as soon as we got home, I put one on.

  I studied myself in the upstairs bathroom mirror. Did I look any different? Not really. But that wasn’t the point of these girl protectors, anyway.

  “Lia?” Aunt Shelby was knocking on the bathroom door. “Do you by chance have any cocoa powder in this house? I’m preparing for this evening’s festivities.”

  “Try the pantry above the fridge.”

  “Okay, thanks. And stay out of the kitchen!”

  I didn’t argue. But the word “cocoa” reminded me—I’d promised there’d be gobs of chocolate tonight. Dang.

  I ran into my bedroom and took some money from my bank. As I was about to leave for the corner grocery store, Nate grabbed my elbow and pulled me into his room.

  “What’s going on, Lia?” he demanded.

  I yanked my arm away. “What do you mean?”

  “Everything. What Aunt Shelby’s doing here again, why she’s taking over the kitchen, what she means by ‘festivities.’ ”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I thought you were mad at her,” he said.

  “Yeah, I guess I was.”

  “But not now?”

  I shrugged. “I still think she’s crazy.”

  “So why are you going along with her craziness?”

  I knew I couldn’t explain it to him. After that morning in the mall, something had changed for me. It wasn’t about the bra—or maybe it was, in a way. Because for the first time I felt a connection with my aunt that included my mom. And I knew that whatever crazy thing Aunt Shelby was concocting for me in the kitchen, it was as if my mom were cheering us on.

  Chocolate Cake

  I BOUGHT HERSHEY’S KISSES, TOOTSIE rolls, Kit Kat bars, and Snickers. Then I remembered Mak’s obsession with Twizzlers, so I bought her a pack. Was that enough candy? Probably not. At the register I added a Milky Way, two Oh Henrys, and an Almond Joy. Also a couple of Dove Bars, a 3 Musketeers, and some tropical mix jelly beans.

  By the time I got home it was a little after four. I still wasn’t allowed in the kitchen, so I dumped the candy on the living room coffee table. It occurred to me that I should get ready for the party-ish thing, but I had no idea how to dress. So I decided it was a come-as-you-are-party-ish-thing, and I’d just wear what I already had on—green sweater, jeans, new bra.

  At five forty-five, Dad and Nate left the house together to get some sushi and maybe see this new robots-take-over-the-world movie that both of them kept talking about. At six ten the doorbell rang.

  It was Mak. As soon as I opened the door, she put her hand over her mouth. “So, is Abi coming?” she murmured.

  “I think. She didn’t tell you?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  That was strange, I thought. Maybe they were still fighting.

  The second guest to arrive was Marley, wearing a Chicago Bears jersey a size too big for Nate.

  “It’s just us?” she asked hopefully, spotting Mak sitting on the sofa, still wearing her denim jacket, her shoulders hunched.

  But the doorbell rang again almost immediately. There was Jules, smiling her Jules smile. Two steps behind her was Abi, her eyes narrowed and her arms folded across her chest.

  Fun and games, I thought. Woo.

  I knocked on the kitchen wall three times, the signal for Aunt Shelby to join us. She came out of the kitchen looking like a witch’s little sister, wearing a long, swingy purple dress, her hair in skinny braids, and carrying two lit candles. She put the candles on the coffee table and flicked off the living room lights.

  “Welcome,” she said, smiling a smile I didn’t recognize.

  Abi ignored her. “So what are we celebrating, anyway?”

  “It’s my twelve-and-five-twelfths birthday,” I told her.

  “Which obviously calls for cake,” Aunt Shelby declared. We watched her go to the kitchen and return seconds later carrying a tall, slightly tilted layer cake smothered in dark chocolate frosting. On top she’d written AMALIA JESSICA in swirly yellow icing. But I guess she hadn’t planned her spacing, so my name came out on three separate lines:

  AMAL

  IAJES

  SICA

  Aunt Shelby smiled as she put the cake on the coffee table. “I heard you girls liked chocolate cake, and this is my special recipe. I worked on it all day, so if you don’t eat it, I’ll be deeply offended.”

  She began cutting the cake into huge slices, which she passed around on paper plates she must have found in one of Mom’s secret cabinets, the ones she’d used for storing holiday decorations. The plates had pictures of Santa’s elves in ice skates, and I prayed none of my ex-friends would notice. Or the paper napkins, either, which were so pink and fairy princessy, they must have been left over from my six-year-old birthday party.

  “Dig in,” Aunt Shelby said, squeezing herself into the space on the sofa next to Mak. She balanced a skating-elf plate on her lap as she ate a huge, gooey bite of cake.

  I took a forkful. It was chocolaty, all right—chocolate cake with chocolate filling between the layers, plus the chocolate frosting on top. But there was another flavor I couldn’t identify. Cinnamon? No, not cinnamon. The extra flavor wasn’t bad-tasting, just spicy and sharp. Probably one of my aunt’s warped mystery ingredients. Could anyone else taste it? If they did, they were too polite to say anything.

  I glanced at Aunt Shelby. Why were her eyes sparkling?

  When Jules put down her fork, my aunt protested, “No, no, eat up.” And as soon as Abi finished her slice, Aunt Shelby gave her another, which she insisted Abi finish completely.

  At last the cake was almost gone.

  “Now,” Aunt Shelby said. “We’re going to play a little
party game I think you’ll all recognize. It’s based on Truth or Dare.”

  Mak groaned. “I am so sick of that game. Do we have to?”

  “Oh, but this is a different version. In this version, there are only truths.”

  Abi snorted. “Yeah, well, some of us have a little problem with truths.”

  “Not this time,” Aunt Shelby said.

  “Why not?” I demanded, suddenly nervous.

  “Because this cake contains a special ingredient from my herb store in Maine. It’s called capsicum annuum, and it was used frequently by the ancient Aztecs.”

  “What for?” Marley asked.

  “Truth-telling,” Aunt Shelby said, nodding. “The Aztecs didn’t have a justice system like we do, so when someone was accused of a crime, the local chiefs would give them capsicum annuum in powdered form. Then they’d ask the defendant questions.”

  Jules’s eyes popped. “You mean it’s like a truth serum?”

  Aunt Shelby laughed. “Oh, there’s no such thing. But the Aztecs believed this powder released certain toxins from the body, certain negative energies that resulted in hurtful speech and falsehoods. Can you already feel a bit warm? Those are the toxins rising to the surface of your skin. Doesn’t it feel good to rid your bodies of all that negativity?”

  I stared at my aunt. She can’t be serious, I thought. This is obviously one of her pretend potions! But here was the strange thing: Even as I had this thought, I realized that my cheeks were burning.

  Which was crazy, I told myself. Because Aunt Shelby was a total fake. She didn’t have a clue what she was doing; she’d probably read about ancient Aztecs on Wikipedia.

  Still, there was no question that right then my heart was pounding. My head felt light. And I realized I wanted to talk. I needed to talk.

  It just felt like my turn, and I didn’t even need someone to ask me a question.

  “Can I go first?” I begged.

  “You?” Aunt Shelby’s eyebrows shot up; she looked a bit rattled. “Oh, okay, Lia, why not. Did you want me to ask you a—”

  “I never got my period!” I interrupted. “I made it all up! The walk on the beach, the drips on my leg, the towel, the hoodie, everything.”

  “Yesss!” Marley shouted, punching the air with her fist. For a second I thought she’d do a spazzy victory dance, but she just sat on the sofa, grinning.

  Abi smirked at me. “Yeah, Lia. I had a feeling.”

  “Really?” I tried to catch my breath. “Anything you want to share?”

  “Me?”

  “Your turn, Abi,” I said. “Go ahead.”

  Everyone stared at her.

  “Abi, why are you blushing?” Mak asked as she took off her jacket.

  “It’s the heat of the toxins, dear,” Aunt Shelby told Abi. “No point resisting; the truth always prevails.”

  Abi started shredding her napkin into a small pile of pink confetti. “Fine, so I didn’t get mine either, all right? I got cramps really bad the second week of camp, so I thought it was happening, but it never did, and I didn’t want to tell anyone, because after the fuss I made—”

  “So you lied about getting your period? Oh, wow.” Mak gaped at her. “But why? Because you were jealous I’d gotten mine?”

  Abi’s eyes filled with tears. Her voice shook. “Don’t be so judgy, Makayla. You have no idea—none—about how I feel all the time. Nothing is hard for you, ever! You do everything perfectly—”

  “That’s so not true!”

  “You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re this amazing musician, you win all these swimming competitions, everyone likes you—”

  “They’d like you if you weren’t so nasty.”

  “No, they wouldn’t! I know your other friends all hate me!”

  Mak groaned. “See, this is why—” She shook her head.

  “Why what?” Aunt Shelby asked, patting Mak’s knee.

  “Why I can’t just hang out with my other friends! Abi gets so jealous, I have to lie and say we’re having a swim practice or something.”

  “Wait!” Abi cried. “Stop! Mak, you’ve been lying about swim practice?”

  “Sometimes. Yeah.”

  “That’s horrible,” Jules exclaimed.

  “Yeah, well, it’s better than dealing with Abi’s tantrums.” Mak straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I need to say something, Abi, all right? Lately you’re either crying and yelling because I’m just talking to somebody else, or accusing me of stealing a boyfriend who wasn’t even your boyfriend, or just acting nasty for no reason. You know, I really hated how you laughed when I hit Lia with the volleyball.”

  “And I didn’t like that you wrote ‘Liar’ on her locker,” Jules blurted.

  Abi flinched as if she’d been slapped. “I just wrote ‘Lia R.’ I told you guys—”

  “But we didn’t believe it, Abi,” Jules said softly. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to her,” Mak snapped.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me, Jules.”

  Nobody spoke. It was like everyone was in shock.

  All of a sudden Abi turned to me. Her eyes were blazing.

  “Okay, since we all ate the cake, Lia, why don’t you tell us the truth about Tanner?”

  Aunt Shelby blinked at me. “Oh, Lia, they know about Tanner?”

  She’d forgotten? But I’d told her about my Tanner story when we were on the phone. I was sure of it.

  “Um. Yes?” I said.

  “Well, I’m gobsmacked,” Aunt Shelby said. “I didn’t know Tanner was a topic you even discussed.”

  Abi snorted. “You mean he exists?”

  “Oh, he exists, all right,” Aunt Shelby said. “But I’m afraid aunts don’t give details about nieces and their first kisses, even with capsicum annuum, because there are some bonds that are sacred, so to speak, and when a lovely, gorgeous boy’s heart is broken, well . . . Ask me anything else. We simply won’t discuss Tanner.”

  I stared at my aunt. Why was she lying about Tanner? The whole point of this party was to tell the truth. To rid negativity, or toxins, or—

  “That’s so unfair!” Abi protested to Aunt Shelby. “You can’t just refuse to answer a question! Not if we can’t!” She looked at Jules like she was expecting Jules to stick up for her.

  But Jules stood. “This is too weird. I’m leaving, you guys.”

  “So am I,” Marley said.

  Abi pointed an accusing finger at her. “Yeah, Marley. You’re always running off, right? What’s the truth you’ve been hiding all this time?”

  Aunt Shelby gave Marley a questioning look.

  “I’d rather not talk about it now,” Marley answered. “But actually, there’s something I do want to say.” She faced my aunt. “I think you were wrong to Aztec-herb us without our permission.”

  “I completely agree,” I said.

  “Ha,” Abi snarled. “You probably knew all along, Lia. You probably helped your aunt bake that cake!”

  “I did not!”

  “Yeah, Lia, we totally believe you. Because you’re so good at the truth, right?”

  Up until then Marley had been almost silent and, except for celebrating my confession, almost calm. But when Abi said that to me, Marley exploded. “Shut up, Abi! You lied too—so you have no reason to pick on Lia. Or anybody else, for that matter. And you know what? I’m sick of how mean and moody you always are. Everybody is.”

  Abi’s face went white. I’d never seen any resemblance before, but in that instant she looked exactly like Val that time in my kitchen when I’d reminded her of the way she’d bullied my aunt in middle school.

  Aunt Shelby must have seen Abi’s reaction too; maybe that was why she picked that moment to speak up. “Time-out, girls,” she announced. She reached into a dress pocket and pulled out a small plastic sandwich bag filled with a red powder. “Behold my secret ingredient, the ancient Aztec herb capsicum annuum! Otherwise known as cayenne pepper.”

&nbs
p; “That’s what you put in the cake?” I stared at my aunt. “Regular old cayenne pepper?”

  “Just a pinch, buttercup. No harm, no worries. Actually, I thought it tasted kind of good with all that chocolate.”

  “But why?” I could barely form words. “Why did you do that?”

  “Ah. So here’s the punchline of my little joke: game over. No more Truth or Dare, or any version of it, either. Because real friends treat each other as equals. They don’t force things on each other. Or from each other.”

  “But you forced that cake on us,” Abi protested. “And then you forced us to say things!”

  “Actually, dear, everyone spoke on their own,” Aunt Shelby replied. She waved her arm as if she held an invisible fairy wand. “And now that you’ve expressed your truths to each other, no one has more power than anyone else, balance has been restored, and you can all move forward in a positive direction. No more negativity, all right? There are already too many dark clouds in this world, and we’re all better off living in sunshine. Can we agree on that, girls?”

  My ex-friends gaped as Aunt Shelby twirled to take the almost-empty cake plate back into the kitchen.

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “Omigod,” I sputtered. “You guys, I am so, so sorry. But I bought tons of chocolate, like I promised. And other stuff too. So please help yourselves—” I gestured wildly toward the candy still piled up on the coffee table.

  Abi flew out the door, with Jules following. Mak nodded at me and mumbled, “See you, Lia,” as she grabbed her jacket and walked out.

  That left Marley.

  “Marley, I don’t know what to say—” I began.

  She took a Milky Way and also shoved a Snickers bar into her pants pocket. “Well, anyhow, you were right about one thing. This definitely wasn’t a boring pizza-and-bowling party.”