Dale asks as I take back the lip balm. “Pear,” I say. “Just pear?” “Smoky pear.” He nods. I’m not sure what game we’re playing here but I don’t like that I’m not the only one with the secrets. I take the direct approach. “What’s the story, Dale Tookey? Why are you following me?” “Who says I was following you?” I hit him with a full-on scornful gaze. “Come on. Why else would you be anywhere near Kelly Beach’s party?” He’s uncomfortable. The pressure of my interrogation has him off balance and nervous. “Maybe I like crashing parties. Maybe that’s my thing.” I’m not sure I buy it but I’ve learned from my Glasses of Truth how to spot deception, lies, and cover-ups. I search his face for signs of fakery. Nope. He seems to be clean as a whistle. Dale fixes me with a curious look. “I have a question. Where’d you get the lip balm?” “What makes you think it’s mine?” We both know it’s mine. I just don’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.
