‘Hmm …’ He pauses to think. ‘All right. I once had a drink from my dad’s vodka but then regretted it and spat it out. As a kid, I was obsessed with Ernie from Sesame Street, and even had his poster on my bedroom wall. My first crush was this girl in sixth grade; I passed her a love note but she just laughed at me. Last one— sometimes I wear eyeliner at my music gigs.’

I contemplate all the options. Spitting out vodka sounds valid given his father’s history. Ernie sounds reasonable, and although he was never my thing he does have a high, squeaky voice that kids like. Trent wears eyeliner, and with Jaxon’s emo style I can see it happening. The girl? That must be the lie.

‘The love note is the lie,’ I say.

‘Wrong!’ He smiles.

‘Really? Which one?’

‘I lied about the vodka. Well, half lied. I did drink it, but I didn’t spit it out. It actually tasted okay with Sprite. But I ended up freaking out that I liked it too much and would get a taste for it. So I made a vow, like a monk or something, never to touch it, or any alcohol, again. Ever.’

‘And the girl? Did she really laugh at you? That’s mean.’

He takes a left turn onto a highway and we pass an enormous fireworks store, the only thing to see out the window. ‘Sure did. I passed her a note that said, I like you. Tick yes or no if you like me back. And I drew two little boxes. She showed it to her friends and they all laughed. She never even gave me the note back, I was worth that little to her! Broke my poor eleven-year-old heart. I had a serious girlfriend at the end of high school. But I never quite recovered from Candy.’ He glances at me for a second.

‘Her name’s Candy?’

‘Yes.’ He sighs. ‘I stalked her a couple times on Facebook. She still looks the same, minus the pigtails. But seriously, that’s a secret you have to take to your grave. Okay, your turn.’

‘My mum once tied herself to a tree and—’

‘About yourself. Not your mum or anyone else. Those are the rules.’

I pause again to think. ‘My favourite animals are pandas. I’m terrified of snakes. I once ate chicken, just to fit into a popular group at school. And …’ I think. ‘My first crush was a boy on the bus—I was obsessed with him but never said a word.’

‘The chicken one. You’re way too perfect, I mean, authentic, to do something just to fit in.’

‘Wrong!’

‘Really? You did that?’

‘Not my finest moment.’

‘Wow.’ He shakes his head like he doesn’t believe it. ‘So what’s the lie? The boy?’