DECEIT | By Georgia Wetherall
He asked if I could tie knots in cherry stems using my tongue. I said I’d never tried. We borrowed two pounds from his mum and went to the shop and bought a whole punnet so I could try. I had never kissed a boy before, so I was eager to prove that I knew what I was doing.
The first stem slipped down my throat and I started to hack.
The second snapped as I tried to trap it between my teeth.
He showed me his work, four perfectly tied stems laid out on the table in front of him. I stared at them, trying to understand why I was so bad and he was so skilled. Were his stems longer than mine? Maybe they were thinner. Or more flexible.
Choose a stem for me, I told him. It had to be because I didn’t know which stems were the optimum ones.
The stem he passed me was no different to the ones I had tried before, but I tried it nonetheless. I twisted my tongue around in circles, pushing the stem around my mouth. It scraped my cheek and tickled my teeth. It almost choked me. I caught the tip between my teeth, held it tight, and tried again. It didn’t want to knot, but I persisted. Eyes closed, I focused on the stem.
And it snapped.
When I opened my eyes, I saw him tying knots with his fingers.