I'll keep [all our] dirty little secrets

(start from the bottom and read up)

If you had been here, you would have laughed.
(But you weren't. And it doesn't make a difference.)





And by the time Emeline reads this:
the "secret potion" will be on the kitchen table.





After Diana participates in and survives her first "power hour":
"I'll keep all our dirty little secrets..."
"Left or right?"
"I just threw a shovel and it hit a car..."





As we stroll past the Magic "City Championships" at the Carousel Mall, Rachel muses:
"You know, we're really close to being that."
"Oh, I know," I agree. "Only a few degrees off. There's a fine line, and we're on one side."
"Or a shelf. If you will."





Waking up to the text message:
"I hate Dr. Boynton." (You can do it, Rachel!)





Many hours later:
Gas: $20 (that Emeline threw onto the counter)
Admission: $5
After-dancing Twix: $1.07
Water: $.50
Direction off of 81: Left (this time)
Making poor life decisions, doing handstands in apartment hallways in Syracuse, learning the Rubiks cube, watching Annia Hatch on YouTube, being "wingmen," learning that we (apparently) have tight butts (all of this courtesy of our random amigos cubanos), reminiscing about our past innocence on the drive home ("Do you drink?"), and eating a 5 am breakfast before going to bed: Priceless.





After a solid practice and before salsa:
I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this!