Davy Keith is not the scrawny and annoying boy I remember from our legendary prank wars back when we were wild kids running around our small town. Nope. Now he's a six-foot-tall sailor who seems to have more confidence in me than I do at the moment. I should know better than to get mixed up with him. People from home used to say we were nothing but trouble whenever we were together. But would it really hurt to join one last game of truth or dare with my archenemy, for old times' sake? What do I have to lose?
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