We sat on the steps and listened to the confessions coming from the kids all round us for a while. We heard about lies, and stolen things, and secret pimples, and tricks, and deceptions . .. most of them were just little things . . . and then the effects of the truth liquid seemed to wear off because everyone went all embarrassed and stopped talking about all the naughty things they had done.

And sadly, the bottle of chocolate truth was nearly empty. Gena and I looked at the few drops left as we walked home after school.

"We'll have to buy some more," I said.

"I've got some money in my piggy bank," said Gena.

"I've got fifty cents in my jacket."

"That's plenty."

"Who shall we use the last bit on?"

"How about Mum and Dad?" suggested Gena.

"A bit risky" I said.

"Why?"

"They might say things we don't want to hear."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," I said, "Like they're thinking of moving to another house, or they want to send us to another school, or something."

"I'd go anywhere with them," said Gena, "They're the best!"

"Maybe we don't need to know everything?" I said, "Even if it is true?"

"Its funny that," said Gena, "You'd think that truth would be good all the time, but it isn't. Sometimes its best not to know something."

"Like what someone really thinks about you."

"Yeah."

We walked on, thinking about this, but I knew Gena wasn't convinced about not using the last of the chocolate truth. I just hoped she wouldn't use it on Mum or Dad, that's all. I was happy with my parents as they were. I didn't really want to know any secrets they