Dash & Lily's Book of Dares by David Levithan, Rachel Cohn Page A

appropriate) is the Seventh Night of Hanukkah. The opener is some “jewfire” band (Ezekial? Ariel?), and at about two in the morning, this gay Jewish dancepop/indie/punk band called Silly Rabbi, Tricks Are for Yids will go on. Between the opener and the main act, look for the writing on the stall .
    An all-nighter at a club wasn’t exactly my scene, so I knew I had a phone call or two to make before the plan would be complete. I quickly slipped the Moleskine into the walnut and took Snarly Muppet out of my backpack.
    “Watch over this, will you?” I asked it.
    And then I left it there, a small sentry among the nutcrackers.

eight

(Lily)
    December 25th
    I decided to give myself a Christmas present this year. I decided to spend the day only speaking to animals (real and stuffed), select humans as necessary so long as they weren’t my parents or Langston, and a Snarl in a red Moleskine notebook—if he returned it to me.
    When I was old enough to read and write, my parents gave me an eraser board that I kept in my room at all times. The idea was that when frustrated, I, Lily, should write down words on the board to express my feelings instead of letting she-devil Shrilly express them through shrieking. It was supposed to be a therapeutic tool.
    I brought the eraser board out of retirement on Christmas morning when my parents phoned in for a video chat. I almost didn’t recognize them on the computer screen. The betrayers looked so healthy, tan, and relaxed. Completely not Christmasy.
    “Merry Christmas, Lily darling!” Mom said. She was sittingon the balcony of their cabana or whatever it was, and I could see the ocean lapping behind her. She looked ten years younger than when she left Manhattan a week earlier.
    Dad’s glowing face wormed onto the screen next to Mom’s, blocking my ocean view.
    “Merry Christmas, Lily darling!” he said.
    I scribbled onto the eraser board and held it up to the computer screen for them to see: Merry Christmas to you, too .
    Mom and Dad both frowned at the sight of the eraser board.
    “Uh-oh,” Mom said.
    “Uh-oh,” Dad said. “Is Lily Bear feeling a bit unsettled today? Even though we’ve been preparing you for our anniversary trip since last Christmas, and you assured us you would feel okay having just this one Christmas without us?”
    I erased my last statement and replaced it with: Langston told me about the boarding school job .
    Their faces fell.
    “Put Langston on!” Mom demanded.
    I wrote, He’s sick in bed. Asleep right now .
    Dad said, “What’s his temperature?”
    101 .
    Mom’s peeved face turned concerned. “Poor baby. On Christmas Day, too. It’s just as well we all agreed not to open presents until we get home on New Year’s Day. It wouldn’t be any fun with him sick in bed, now would it?”
    I shook my head. Are you moving to Fiji?
    Dad said, “We haven’t decided anything. We’ll talk about it as a family when we get home.”
    Rapidly, my hands erased and re-scribbled.
    It makes me UPSET that you didn’t tell me .
    Mom said, “I’m sorry, Lily bear. We didn’t want to make you upset before there was anything to really be upset about.”
    SHOULD I BE UPSET?
    My hand started to feel tired from the erasing and writing. I almost wished my voice wasn’t being so obstinate.
    Dad said, “It’s Christmas. Of course you shouldn’t be upset. We’ll make this decision as a family—”
    Mom interrupted him. “There’s some chicken soup in the freezer! You can thaw it for Langston in the microwave.”
    I started to write: Langston deserves to be sick . But I erased that and wrote, Okay. I’ll make him some .
    Mom said, “If his temperature goes up any more, I’m going to need you to take him to the doctor. Can you do that, Lily?”
    My voice broke free. “Of course I can do that!” I snapped. Geez, how old did they think I was? Eleven?
    The eraser board, and my conviction, were both mad at my voice’s betrayal.
    Dad said, “I’m sorry this