Lottie sighs and sits up, ready. “Okay, fine. Fine, you know what? Dare. Let’s go,” she laughs, making a come at me, bro gesture with her arms.

Without missing a beat, Aidan says, “Kiss that girl.” He jerks his thumb at me over his shoulder without looking at me. Unmistakably me. Lottie’s eyes bug out and then close in exaggerated agony. I feel the sound of the room, the wild booming commotion surge in my ears and then quiet.

“You are such a pervert, McFear,” I hear someone say, as from a distance. It is Aidan’s nickname version of his last name, McPhearson.

I am suddenly standing. An opportunity, a stage, a chance, held out to me like a bright thing. Lottie is still on the couch, looking horrified, when I raise a beer bottle to my lips and take a long haul while the room cheers. I cock my head at her, challenging, waiting. I’ve won already, before she knew it was a contest.

Lottie drags her feet, her eyebrows up up up, moving slowly toward me.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” I say, swaggering like a cowgirl, bravado making my cheeks sweat with the glow of the perfect spectacle.

I catch the eye of Dee, still in the corner, sitting up now, paying attention, her eyes full of a kind of lusty fire you only get from these charged moments. She tips her head, a smirk of approval on her face.

When she’s in front of me, a foot away, Lottie, my oldest friend, my sister from another mister, closes her eyes and purses her lips in a grimace. I seize my opportunity by robbing her of her own. Grabbing her face, taking my cues from all my favorite movies, I plant a passionate, juicy kiss on her, making her arms fling out in surprise. With a smacking sound, I pull back, and over the riot in the room, I look at Aidan and shout, “My name. Is Stevie.”

Chapter 3

3

Episode 65 2:10

The thing about female friendships is the intimacy. It’s not all chummy-chummy-back-slapping bro culture. It’s deep. It’s real. Intense. They go from 0 to 100 in no time and can fall apart just as fast. They are allies and competitors, each other’s biggest fans and liabilities. And, at least in the movies, friends urge the heroes on, push them to do things they maybe wouldn’t have done otherwise.

Sunday: It’s probably too cold to be at the skate park, but Lottie and I go anyway, pushing our skateboards along the sidewalks on our way, making that rhythmic and satisfying kajunk over the cracks as we go. We’ve been going there since we were old enough to explore the town beyond our streets.

We don’t say much for a while, and I need to break the silence.

“Dude, I had to do something! It was just a joke.”