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Summary
It didn’t eradicate Alice’s suspicions. Some primal, animal fear, dating back to the antediluvian muck of middle school, said this was merely an unusual level of commitment to the bit, to setting up the punchline. Truth or dare? Ghostly, girlish giggles echoed in Alice’s amygdala. Either way she knew she would lose. Call truth and she got laughs poorly muffled behind hands as she was asked if she’d ever been kissed. The losses branch out. Say no and be revealed as a loser. Say yes and the freakishness of the idea induced shrieks of delighted horror. Call dare and end up on the roof of Jessica K's house, no one believing she’d jump, and then suddenly being no longer on the roof but on the ground among a circle of screaming girls, leg broken, and instead of gaining respect for her nerve she’d freaked everyone out so much they avoided eye contact forever after.
Alice always took the dare.