Fake. Phoney. Faking it. Orgasm of course. It's what women do, of course. To both abjure and embrace orgasm as the point of it all. But so many kids of feigning, so much acting, role playing, posing. The first time I stood in front of a classroom. Days back now, when blackboards were still standard issue. I looked at the class. The class looked at me. I put my hand on the chalk ledge, picked up a piece, turned my back to the class and wrote my name on the board. A grin broke through my cold sweat. I turned to them and offered them my pleased chagrin. "I am definitely a teacher now." As if. Well, fake it until you make it and thirty years later I jostle and jest with my students and haven't touched chalk in decades, and I still wonder if they'll catch me out.