Love Me If You Dare

A whole life can pass by before someone’s capable of saying, “I love you.” Eighty years can go by before a love story begins. And all because of a game – or perhaps, thanks to a game.
Sophie and Julien defined the rules of the game when they were young. For the rest of their lives, they’re referees – and often victims – of it.
“Are you up to it?” “Sure!” They’re ready for anything: for better or worse. They flout all taboos, defy all restrictions, fly in the face of authority, laugh until it hurts. They’re ready for anything! Except perhaps to admit that they love each other.
The game begins with an innocent bet. A bet made so as to forget that mum is very sick. A bet made so as to forget when the whole class calls you a dirty Polack. And a few bets later, the game becomes the best and most compelling thing in both of the children’s lives.
They play, they love each other. Play, love. Love, play. In the end, it’s so much easier to just be friends.
And so life goes by, the game remains, increasingly intense, like passion. And each time that they’re say “Sure!” they say, “I love you more than my own life.” “Sure!”