Truth or Dare

by Sloan Johnson

  “Right, which only makes me think, even more, that someone put something in one of your drinks. Bowie has liked you for a long time and he’s not always a great guy,” she points out, drawing her feet up on the couch so she can wrap her arms around her legs. “Can you say with certainty that he wouldn’t give you something?” She’s right, everyone knows that Bowie has a crush on me, but there’s no way he would do something like this. He knows how adamantly against drugs I am, so he wouldn’t slip me something as a last-ditch way of being with me. Would he?

  Shaking my head, I keep trying to think of a missing link. Nothing seems off about the time I was in the kitchen with Bowie. I don’t believe he would have done this to me. We stood on the deck for a few minutes while he tried to convince me to go for a walk. I put down my glass while I pulled my hair into a ponytail because the wind had picked up.

  “It has to be from when I set down my glass on the deck,” I say somberly. My stomach churns at the thought that anyone would be so depraved as to do something like this. Last night was a party amongst friends, people we should all be able to trust. In a perverse way, I’m glad this all happened to me because at least I have friends who realized something was wrong and took care of me.

  On top of the fact that we need to figure out who was behind whatever wound up in my drink and what it was so I know what I unknowingly ingested, I have to tuck my tail between my legs and apologize to Colby. My gut told me that he wouldn’t do something to me, but I let my mind run off the tracks, all because of how things looked in my post-alcohol and whatever else haze.

  As I feel myself fall apart, tucking myself deep into the ratty, oversized recliner I claim to hate, I feel Amanda’s hand on my shoulder. When I look up at her, I see that she’s poured me a cup of coffee in the biggest mug we own. It’s good to have people who understand you, even when you screw up and treat them like crap.

  “Does Colby hate me now?” I ask after working up the courage to hear an answer that terrifies me. He’s put up with a lot from me over the years, but this is by far the worst I’ve ever treated him. To hear Amanda tell it, Colby was nothing but a gentleman last night, taking care of me and checking on me until his eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer. And in turn, I accused him of taking advantage of me.

  “Nah, I think he’ll understand. And if he doesn’t, fuck him.” Amanda scoots her way into the chair with me, holding me as I stare despondently out the front window. How did last night get so screwed up?

  One thing’s for certain, my circle is going to get a lot smaller after all of this.

  Chapter 6

  Colby

  Robby did the right thing by pulling me out of the apartment this morning. I know Lea’s pissed, but that doesn’t mean she had any right to take it out on me. The way she was screaming at me, it’s as if I’m the one who did something wrong and I know I’m not. But I couldn’t tell her that, not while she was pissed off. Over waffles and a heaping plate of bacon, Robby and I go over everything that happened last night, trying to figure out who did this.

  He didn’t spend a ton of time trying to play amateur detective because Amanda was freaking out and wanted to get back to our place. We’ll have to head over to Lippy’s later to get his bike because he wound up driving her car. Maybe we’ll see who’s still passed out and find out who the asshole in our midst is.

  “You said something last night that has me curious,” Robby states as we walk back to the Cutlass. It doesn’t take a genius to know what off-handed comment he picked up on and held back for the perfect time. “What did you mean when you said you’re going to do it?”

  Yep, that would be the statement. I shrug, not because I’m going out of my way to be evasive, but because even I’m not sure what I meant by it. Seeing Lea’s reaction to me this morning, the way she acted as if waking up to me was the worst thing that could have happened, maybe moving to Nashville is the “it” I’m supposed to do. But even the thought of leaving her behind has a little voice in my head screaming that I’m a pussy, because there’s not a snowball’s chance in Hell I can walk away from her.

  “C’mon, man. We’ve known each other since we were kids. Did you mean that you’ve finally decided to go for what you want?” Again, Robby leaves the question vague, allowing me to interpret it as I need.

  “Something like that,” I say defiantly, slamming the door of the Cutlass after sliding behind the wheel. I reach over and flip the lock on Robby’s door, even though part of me would love to leave him here and avoid this conversation.

  The best part about my car is the stereo. Just a few months ago, Robby and I spent an entire weekend upgrading it to a top of the line, state of the art system with concert quality sound. I hold down the volume button until the music is so offensively loud that I’m concerned for the safety of my speakers.

  “Fuck that, it’s time to talk,” Robby says as he turns the volume down to a conversational tone. “Look, I’ve sat quietly for four years waiting for you to make a move on that girl. At first, I wasn’t sure what you saw in her, but I knew there was a connection between the two of you. Now, she’s fucking beautiful, she’s smart and you’re going to lose out if you’re not careful.”

  I stare out the windshield, glancing over my shoulder to merge onto the freeway. Maybe if I don’t look at him, he won’t realize that I heard the cold hard truth spilling from his lips. When I told myself I was staying away from Lea because it’s not fair to leave her, it sucked. Now, I realize that, by being a stubborn ass, I could have lost her in more ways than one and I’m not sure I can deal with that inevitability anymore. I’ve always been destined to lose her to someone who will be able to take care of her and give her the world. The sky looks like rain and I hope like hell we can get to Lippy’s before it starts pouring. Otherwise, I’m going to be stuck with Mister Matchmaker all damn day.

  Robby’s phone rings with an obnoxious tone. He glances at the display before pressing the ignore button and shoving it back in his jeans. “Man, maybe I shouldn’t give a shit. If you’re going to be stupid enough to let Lea walk away from you, maybe you deserve to be miserable. Do you really think you’ll be happy in the long run with meaningless fucks week after week?”

  Slamming my palm against the steering wheel, I shoot a warning in Robby’s direction with my steely gaze. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so shut the fuck up!”

  “Really? Is that why calm, cool and collected Colby is all pissed off? That vein by your temple is a dead giveaway. Just admit that you’re scared she won’t feel the same way and then we can figure out how to make you realize that you’re dead wrong. That girl loves you, but she’s not going to be the one to say it.” If someone had a bug under the front seat of my car, they’d probably be pissing themselves by now. We sound more like a couple of sixteen year old girls than grown men. What guys have conversations like this?

  As I ease my way down the exit ramp to a red light, I notice that the temperature gauge on my dashboard is rapidly approaching the danger zone. I swear, if this car blew another radiator hose, I’m going to lose my shit. Four times in the past year, this has happened. The upside is that I’m prepared for it now. The downside is that it’s now pouring hard enough that I can barely see the road in front of me. A wonderful turn for a great fucking day.

  The hood of the car does little to shield my body from the storm as I work to replace the hose as quickly as possible. Thanks to the lack of help from Mother Nature, my hands can’t seem to hold onto anything, causing more than a few laughs out of Robby, who is enough of a pal that he’s just as soaked to the bone as I am.

  By the time the hose is replaced on the car, the need to talk about what will or won’t happen between Lea and me seems to have passed. Thank fuck for that small miracle because Robby’s meddling already has me trying to figure out how to broach the subject with her. He’ll never know, but I’m more certain now than I was last night that tossing the ball into her court is the ‘it’ I need to do. Even if she di
d claim to hate me this morning. I would much rather have the ‘I love yous’ from last night be the words she meant from her heart.

  **

  When we get back to the apartment, Amanda offers to give Robby a ride home and then take him to his bike once the weather clears up. They’d be a cute couple if not for the fact that they’re more like siblings in some crazy, dysfunctional family.

  Tension fills the apartment as Lea and I both struggle to come up with something to say. She busies herself in the kitchen, a sure sign that she’s deep in thought. I offer to help, but I’m quickly dismissed from the kitchen and try to find something to watch on the television. It seems that, at least for the time being, we’re playing the avoidance game.

  Unable to sit and do nothing while she’s preparing what looks like a multiple course meal with enough food to feed at least four more people, I go about the task of setting the table.

  “We can eat in the living room if you want,” she says over her shoulder as she stirs her homemade alfredo sauce. My stomach rumbles when I smell garlic bread baking. Homemade, no doubt. Lea is one of the only people I know who still bakes bread from scratch. And she only does that when things get really bad, so I’m not sure I want to hear what she and Amanda were talking about while I was gone.

  I know they talked about last night. Robby pulled me aside before they left, letting me know that he’s going to see what he can find out tonight so Lea and I can kick back at home. If someone was stupid enough to do that shit, I have to think he was ignorant enough to open his mouth to someone. And if no one wants to talk, I’m fully prepared to turn my back on everyone because Lea could have fucking died last night.

  That’s not being dramatic, that’s the straight up truth. She’s not a big girl and we have no clue what she was given, but based on her symptoms, I’m leaning toward some sort of paralytic. Thank you Google for that tidbit. As if watching her lying in bed, unable to fucking open her eyes wasn’t enough, I spent hours looking up different shit, trying to figure out when it would be time to make the call to take her to the emergency room, consequences be damned.

  “Nah, you’ve been in there making a good meal, let’s eat out here.” I don’t want there to be any distractions tonight because, one way or the other, shit’s getting laid out.

  “Okay.” She shrugs, bustling between the fridge and counter, carefully avoiding eye contact.

  “Hey, do you remember that first summer you hung out with us?” I can’t take another minute of the awkward silence. I’m probably an idiot for choosing this approach, but it’s how I got her to open up to me in the weeks after we met and I’m hoping it’ll work just as well now.

  “Most of it.” She laughs half-heartedly, as if remembering one of the many nights we all spent on that vacant stretch of road overlooking the city. Back then, most of us were escaping our parents, asserting our independence, and the dead end was as much home as our parents’ houses were.

  We thought life was complicated then. No one understood us and our parents were constantly telling us what to do. If we had known then what we all know now, I wonder how many of us would have made different choices. I know I sure as hell would have.

  She starts bringing food into our little dining alcove and I stand to help her. She motions for me to sit and I do. Why? Because I’m not about to do anything to piss her off and this is her way of apologizing. I didn’t see it at first, but she has this timidity in her movements that she only gets when she feels like she’s in the wrong. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, that shit this morning would have pissed me right the hell off, but I know she was disoriented and made a snap judgment based on what she saw and felt.

  I wait until she’s sitting in the chair across from me to start filling my plate. We make small talk throughout the meal, but nothing of importance. Before she can clear our dishes, I stand and take charge of the task. She cooked, so I’ll be damned if she’s going to clean, too.

  There’s not much in the kitchen in the way of dessert, but I do find half a container of ice cream. I dish some into two bowls and carry it to the dining room. I’m not ready for our meal to end.

  “Do you remember the night we got kicked out of the dead end and wound up at Fiesta Farms?” It’s a night I’ll never forget, that’s for sure. Lea was so damn cute, the way she panicked when the cops showed up. Her dad is on the force and she was supposed to be at Amanda’s house all night. She was certain they were going to rat her out, but I managed to get her into the backseat of the Cutlass and smooth talk the cops before they made their way up the hill.

  With nowhere else to go, we wound up at Eric’s family farm. More than a few cars sunk into the mud behind the barn because we didn’t want his parents to know we were hanging out back there. The next morning, Eric’s dad came out, laughing his ass off as we tried to free a few remaining vehicles and we found out they had no problems with us being there because it meant we were all being relatively safe. Again, hindsight is 20-20.

  “Yeah,” she laughs. It’s the first time I’ve heard that sound today and I realize that I missed it. Lea can be serious when she needs to be, but she’s always happy. Or so I thought…

  “Okay then, truth or dare?” I ask, staring her right in the eyes. God, they’re gorgeous eyes, too.

  Chapter 7

  Lea

  We play the games of children, not ready to give up on the time when we were innocent. Coming into adulthood has made us realize that we were wrong. Being a kid is the best time you’ll ever have in life…

  Hearing those three simple words spill from Colby’s lips causes a reaction deep in my chest. I didn’t make the connection when he first mentioned the farm because after that first night, it became a second home to many of us throughout the summer. And Truth or Dare is a game he and I spent endless hours playing, basically any time we were in the car alone together. Most of the truths we challenged one another to share were trivial; first kiss, what we would do if there were no expectations on us, things of that nature. The dares were immature, as you would expect from two young adults.

  This time, I’m fairly certain there’s no right answer. After living together and being friends for as long as we have been, there isn’t much to learn about the other person. That means any truths are likely to be deeper, the few things we’ve managed to keep hidden away from one another. Dares are an unknown because it’s just the two of us, sitting around our apartment, and we’re not kids. I can’t think of anything he could dare me to do here. Might as well jump in head first.

  “Truth,” I say quietly, averting my eyes. My heart races as he thinks about which question he’s going to lead off with.

  “Why were you pissed off at me last night?” he asks. Although I knew this was coming, I wasn’t prepared to hear the hint of sadness in his voice. I’ve been upset with him plenty of times, but never before had I heard this tone when we’ve discussed whatever is going on.

  I suck in a sharp breath, hating him for starting this game tonight. He knows I’ll never lie to him when we’re going back and forth this way. It’s what made the game so attractive when we were younger; you knew the other person was being completely honest, even when they would rather not share something. Right now, I would give anything to not tell him how I’ve been ready to explode for a long time after far too many nights watching him and his girls.

  “Because you’re always hanging around with desperate skanks and you’re too good for them.” He doesn’t say anything to me, but I know he’s waiting for me to delve further into my shitty mood when I saw him with Cricket. If he wants to know more, he can burn another turn asking me something more specific. “Truth or dare?” I ask, turning the tables on him.

  “Truth.” At least we’re on the same page, wanting to avoid the dares right now. Probably a good thing because I can’t think of a single dare that wouldn’t be lame or include both of us doing something we can’t take back.

  “I don’t remember much about last night, but one of the
last things I remember is looking up and seeing you glaring at me. Why?”

  “Because I hated seeing you with Bowie,” he says bluntly, standing to get a beer out of the fridge. “Your turn. You need something to drink?”

  “I’d take some water, thanks.” I watch his retreating form, wishing that I remembered more about last night. Not only because it’s upsetting to have a hole in my memory caused by an unknown asshole, but because I want to know what his narrow hips feel like pressed against my body.

  While he’s otherwise occupied, I make my way to the living room, taking control of the situation. We never sit at the dining table, so to have a conversation like the one I feel coming in such a formal setting only sets my nerves that much more on edge. Sitting at one end of the couch, I pull my knees up to my chest as if that’s going to do something to guard my heart.

  Colby takes a seat at the opposite end of the couch, handing me a glass of water. I assumed he would sit in his recliner, in fact, I was counting on having a bit of distance from him. My eyes travel the length of his body, wondering how we got to this point where we’re carefully assessing one another, creating thick waves of tension between our bodies.

  “Why were you upset that I was with Bowie last night?” I ask, trying to get out of playing this game with him. The past twenty-four hours have solidified in my mind the fact that it’s time to grow up. If we have something to say to one another, we should be able to say it.

  A stray curl of light brown hair falls in Colby’s eyes as he shakes his head. “Nope, I answered my one question. It’s your turn.”

  “Truth,” I respond unenthusiastically. This is ludicrous, but I’m trying to keep from showing my annoyance. It’s the least I can do for being such a bitch to him this morning.