.About my butt,” she continued in a small, embarrassed voice. “So I dare you, I dare you to, ah, to tell me now, what you thought about my butt.�...“Nope,” Brian answered, his grin spreading wider.“Y-you’re giving up?” Stephanie asked in surprise, looking crestfallen. “You really won’t tell me?”“No, it’s just, you can’t dare me to tell the truth about something,” he clarified. “I didn’t pick ‘truth’, I picked ‘dare’. One is one thing, and the other’s the other.”“Hey, he’s right,” Kelly realized, a. " At the very least, I can help you cook!" Alright — but only if you help us eat." He gestured to my mostly empty kitchen. "I think they forgot to pack you a lunch." He glanced around. "Among other things."We went back to their place and started dinner. I chopped, he boiled and fried. It brought memories to the surface, long buried.My Dad — my biological Father — he was tall — or maybe I was short. He had brown hair and glasses. He'd cook when he came home from work. He wore an apron over his. More

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