Sense: Part Two (installment #14)

Sense: Part II I write. Most often it goes unread, only a lucky few get to skim. This is a piece I've been working on for some time now--not sure if it will be a short story or much longer. It's a work in progress. Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome. Working title- Sense Installment # 14 (continued from Feb.16th)

“Oh my god girl,” she says in a high pitched 'girly' voice that reminds me of Donna's on 90210, “you totally frenched him.”
My first instinct is to lie, “No I didn’t.”
Litsa is over now, “What!” she shouts, “we saw tongue. We know you frenched.”
I smirk, ok, ok, it’s obvious we did. I don’t stop to wonder why my impulse was to lie. I tell them about his soft lips, at a whisper because he’s over by the soda telling Alex and Pete and Louca and Harry about it too. Harry is gay. We all know it, but he’s still a closet homo. He talks to us about music and make up and the way pants fit around ankles. Harry asks what it was like, not because he cares about the taste of a girl’s lips, but because it was George describing it. In gym he would watch Pete play basketball. He watched Alex work on cars. And he liked to listen to George talk about girls. I bet he imagined himself pressed up against George’s tomato lips too.
My mind spins back and my tongue can't catch up describing every breath, every pucker.
We try to act nonchalant. George and I know that won’t be topped. There is no urge to continue, but Christy and Harry, they whine and say, “But no, we have to go around the circle at least twice.” We try to appease the fat kid and the fruit tart. We all sit down hesitantly, not paying as much attention, carrying our own private side conversations. Christy has the bottle. If she could, she’d set up a magnet to Litsa. The bottle leaves her hand and spins on the floor. We all look down waiting to see what Christy will think of for this one. She has powers. The dyslexia is a trick. She’s reading Aramaic, some archaic spell or curse. It lands on Litsa. She says Litsa has no choice, it’s going to be a dare. We roll our eyes holding back the groan, knowing what to expect.
“Kiss Peter,” she states, bluntly and directly, “in front of all of us.” She gets a thrill from this voyeur thing. It all started with her sister and the murderous Santa having sex I bet.
Litsa is so nervous, she is pulling at the sleeves of her shirt covering her pink nails. Pete is waiting for her to move into the middle of the circle. Christy places her hand on Litsa's back and pats her sevral times before pushing her in, “Go, do your dare.”