Picture This by Jayne Denker Page B

girly-girl my parents had groomed me to be. I had some notion of being a skateboard punk or something.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œNo time for details! We’ve only got a few miles left.”
    â€œJust tell me you took the clothes out of your closet before you set fire to them.”
    She laughed loudly, a bubble of happiness expanding in her chest. She’d never told anyone this. “I dragged them all into the backyard and made a big pile. I remember it looked like one giant pink and purple polyester blob. With glitter. They never actually caught on fire—they just kind of smoldered a little. I panicked, stomped them out, buried the ones with actual burn marks in the bottom of the garbage can, and put everything else in the wash.”
    â€œNice.”
    â€œYour turn. Oh—and exit here.”
    â€œAlready?”
    â€œCome on!”
    â€œAaaggh! Okay! I had a congenital heart defect when I was a baby. I had surgery right after I was born.”
    Celia was speechless for a bit. Then she breathed, “That’s massive.”
    â€œI’m fine. No residual effects except for the scar. Which is small, so I just tell everyone I got hurt doing a really cool stunt for a movie.”
    â€œHow did you get into acting?”
    â€œHey, that’s not part of the game. This is sordid secrets, not an interview.”
    â€œOkay, fine! Tell me another one, then. I’m out.”
    â€œHm. I smell me one o’ them ‘good girls.’ Am I right?”
    â€œHush up, you. Just because I don’t have a rap sheet a mile long doesn’t make me a Goody Two-shoes.”
    â€œBut you didn’t deny it.”
    Celia heaved a sigh. “I may have led a quiet life. I may have had a reputation for being . . . respectable.”
    â€œ Excellent.”
    â€œStill waiting for one more sordid secret from you.”
    Without missing a beat, Niall supplied, “I lost my virginity when I was thirteen.”
    â€œJesus! Who with?”
    â€œNever mind that. No time for details. Now, I’m seeing what would be classified as a quaint town down the hill there. Am I in the right place?”
    She nodded. “Keep going straight on this road.”
    â€œHow much longer?”
    â€œTo my parents’ house? About five minutes.”
    â€œOh, good. Time for another one from you.”
    â€œReally?” But this time she didn’t have to think about what to share. “I cheated on my high school boyfriend—the guy I thought I was going to marry.”
    â€œWhat happened?” Niall asked softly, with no trace of voyeuristic eagerness.
    She hesitated. “It happened while he was at college. He was a year ahead of me and away at school when I was a senior. I was lonely. We broke up a few months later.”
    â€œDid you ever tell him?”
    â€œ No.”
    Niall drove down Main Street in the center of Marsden, silently eyeing the long, wide stretch of turn-of-the-twentieth-century brick and stone architecture appreciatively. Celia knew the town made a charming, picturesque first impression, and its attractiveness wasn’t lost on him. When they reached the far end of town, Celia indicated where he should head up into the hills to get to her parents’ house.
    After they’d traveled a couple more miles, he ventured, “That thing you said, about cheating on your boyfriend . . . is that why you freaked out when I kissed you?”
    She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Maybe. I did a stupid thing when I was young, and it taught me . . . well, cheating is evil.”
    Celia pointed out her parents’ rather secluded driveway; Niall turned in and pulled up close to the house. Once he put the car in park, he turned to face her and took a deep breath. “Okay, look. I’m not supposed to tell you this. I could get sued into the next century if it gets out. But I want to. Tell you, I mean. To clear the air. Sharing secrets,