Five Dares

by Eli Easton

  I still remembered the night Jake’s mom dropped him off late at our place because shit was hitting the fan at their house. Lying in my bed in the dark, Jake choked out his biggest fear. Without his dad, he was the head of the family now. He would have to work—get a job that made good money so he could support himself and, if needed, take care of his mom and sister. No one would be there to be his safety net, to pay for things like college, to cover his bills if he couldn’t find work. He was completely alone.

  I’d tried to tell him it wouldn’t be that way, that his dad would still be around, and his mom too. But Jake had utter conviction that he was completely responsible for himself, if not immediately, then right after high school. His parents didn’t have a whole lot of money anyway—not like my family did. Their house was modest. His mom was a dental assistant and his dad an accountant for some tiny tax place in the mall. I’d always had everything I needed or wanted, and I figured I always would. So anything I could say to Jake sounded like platitudes. And we didn’t really talk about that kind of thing much anyway—emotions. Emotions sucked, and we mostly pretended we didn’t have them.

  Jake worried, that was all. He’d studied hard to get honors in computer science so he could get a good job immediately. I knew how much the Neverware job meant to him.

  I tried to reassure him. “They really liked you at the interview, you said. Plus Sierra works there. They won’t drop you because you got hurt. That would be totally shitty. It’s only a two-month delay.”

  “Yeah,” Jake agreed with a sigh. “Sierra thought they’d probably just have me start the first of September since a bunch of people in the department are on vacation in August anyway. I hope they’re cool with that. She says as long as I’m there in time for her wedding on September twenty-third, she won’t kill me.”

  I swallowed a lump. “I really am sorry, Jake.” I wished I could take it all back, that last stupid dare at the party. But life didn’t work that way.

  He looked at me. He must have been able to see how bad I felt, because his face softened. “Hey, I didn’t have to agree to it. I thought it would work too.”

  “I thought it made sense.”

  “It totally made sense. Maybe the firecrackers were defective.”

  I bit my lip, feeling sheepish. “I noticed Spanish on the fireworks box. If they were from Mexico, they might have had stronger powder than American fireworks. Hell, they were probably illegal.”

  Jake blinked at me. “A fine time to bring that up, Sherlock.”

  I grimaced. “We did freak a lot of people out though?”

  “Oh yeah. We were definitely memorable,” Jake deadpanned with wide eyes. “We’ll probably make YouTube’s Darwin Awards.”

  We stared at each other. Despite how genuinely bad I felt for screwing up Jake’s summer, and for both of us being injured, I couldn’t help but see how ridiculous the whole situation was, how ridiculous we were. So when Jake’s lips quirked up, my own laughter was right there. We started laughing and couldn’t stop.

  Jake held up his hands as if he wanted to cover his mouth, like he usually did when he laughed. But, of course, he couldn’t, and I couldn’t wipe my eyes, so we just sat there howling and holding out our mummy hands, and that made us both laugh harder.

  “Oh God, that was the . . . the s-stupidest thing . . . we’ve ever done!” Jake choked out, barely understandable between gales of laughter.

  “Nah. The quarry coulda been way worse,” I managed.

  Gradually our laughter died off. I could see it had cheered Jake up, but it didn’t take long for his brown eyes to once again fill with worry. I had an urge to sit on his bed and give him a hug or at least pat his shoulder. Which was so not going to happen, even if I had my hands.

  “What about your internship?” Jake asked, as if he’d just remembered it.

  “Not happening.” I shrugged.

  “Sorry. That sucks for you too.”

  “Yeah. To tell you the truth, my dad’s more upset about it than I am.”

  Jake snorted. “God, the spreadsheets that man’s going to have to tweak.”

  I laughed. He knew my dad well. We both sat there for a while. My hands lay on my lap like dead fish.

  “The next eight weeks are gonna be hell.” Jake sighed. “My mom has to work. She can’t be babysitting me twenty-four seven, even if I could stand living at home, which I can’t. Sierra’s in California, and you’re as bad off as I am. There is no one else. You have Amber, but—”

  “I don’t have Amber. She broke up with me over text last night. Said if I wanted to kill myself, I could do it without her.” I waggled my eyebrows at him.

  His face struggled for a moment. And finally he managed to scrape up the fakest sympathetic expression ever. “I’m sorry?”

  I laughed out loud. “Wow. You deserve an Emmy for that right there.” I mimicked a simpering voice. “I’m . . . sorreee?” turning up the end comically.

  He rolled his eyes but grinned. “Yeah. Not really sorry. I tried though. I get bro points for that. But I am sorry it was over a stunt. And I know your dad liked her.”

  “He did. But it’s not like she was the love of my life.”

  Of course, that had never been the point of Amber. She was from Bostonian blue blood and her family had money. She was smart and attractive, but I really couldn’t see a future with her, no matter how many boxes she ticked off on the ten-year plan. I always felt like I was on audition when I was with her, like she was judging me. And she only ever talked about spa appointments, traveling to fancy places like Cannes, and sailboats. Not that there was anything wrong with those things, but they weren’t high on my list of priorities.

  I’d rather hang with Jake. I cleared my throat. “Actually, I have some ideas about that. About the next eight weeks.”

  Jake looked at me with sudden interest. “Yeah? The Planinator is on it? Do your ideas involve me too?”

  “Yes. Yes they do.”

  He looked both relieved and suspicious. Then again, Jake was always a little suspicious of my plans. I couldn’t imagine why. “So tell me.”

  I kept my voice steady, my body relaxed in the chair. “We should go down to the cottage in Cape Cod, you and me. We’re both going to need help, so we might as well be together. That way one person can help us both.”

  “Who’s gonna help us there? No way am I letting your mom or dad anywhere near my naked body. I’d rather be put in a crate and hosed off for the next two months.” He shuddered.

  I made a horrified face. “God, no! They won’t be there. They’ll be in Boston working, as always. My insurance covers an in-home nurse, and I’m sure we can find one in the area. As for meals and all that, Emily can help us out.”

  “Emily?”

  “The lady who cleans the cottage and stocks food and essentials when we’re going down there. Her husband, Bob, does the outside maintenance. He can help too, if we need something done.”

  Jake regarded me warily. “What about showers and . . . like . . . the bathroom.”

  I shrugged. “If we wear loose pants with elastic and go commando, we don’t need help with that. I managed to piss by myself this morning. Used the edge of the sink to get my pants down and leaned forward . . .” I demonstrated, standing up and leaning my upper body out over my legs, exaggerating it.

  It made Jake laugh, like I knew it would. “Classy! Oh my God, now that would be a priceless video! What about wiping your ass? Or does the Planinator never need to take a dump?”

  “We can probably rig something up. Jesus, give me a few hours to work out the kinks, Oh Impatient One. I’ve been disabled for less than half a day. I was thinking—they must have hooks and grabbers we can use, tools for people who have trouble using their hands. Maybe the hospital can set us up with stuff.”

  “Probably.” Jake’s eyes were still smoky, but the frown between his eyes had softened and he relaxed back onto the pillow. “There’s all that accessibility stuff on Windows and iPhone. I’ve never u
sed it, but it shouldn’t be hard to set up. With voice command, we could at least surf the web and make phone calls. Watch porn.” He smirked at me.

  “Yeah, probably not the best idea.” I held up my hands and raised my eyebrows.

  His eyes widened as the implication sank in. “Oh, fuuuck. You asshole.”

  Then we were both laughing again. A pathetic, we-are-in-so-much-trouble sort of laugh.

  When we finally wound down, Jake gave me a hairy eyeball. “I may not hate you for getting me into this mess right now, but by the end of the summer, I just might.”

  “Oh God, me too,” I agreed, with a last, breathy chuckle.

  “Cape Cod. Jesus. That was so not the way I was supposed to be spending my summer.”

  “We’ve had some great times at that cottage though. It won’t totally suck.”

  My parents bought the waterfront cottage in Osterville on the Nantucket Sound when I was fifteen, and Jake and I had spent a lot of weeks there over the past six years.

  “Yeah. If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if you did this on purpose to get me there with you for the summer.”

  His tone was joking, but I felt a rush of guilt all the same. Of course, I hadn’t burned all four of our hands on purpose. But there had been something inside me lately, something that made me itch to push him. To push us. Our paths were forking away from each other at lightning speed. Our days at NYU were over, and there’d be no more coming in from classes to see Jake studying at his desk in our room, or walking across campus together to Patsy’s Pizzeria in the winter, or lying in our respective beds shooting the shit for hours in the dark.

  Had I sabotaged us unconsciously? Had some fucked-up part of me wanted to keep Jake close at any cost? Wow, that was so not cool.

  “Hey, mopey, I’m kidding,” he said quietly.

  I blinked and focused on him.

  “You look like you just ran over your puppy. You know I’m not blaming you, right?”

  Jake. He was one hundred percent gold. “Well, it was my stupid idea. The least I can do is make sure your summer of healing doesn’t entirely blow. If we’re both forced to take the summer off, we should try to enjoy it as much as possible. Right? Consider it a mental health break.”

  Jake’s eyes warmed considerably. “I guess so. At least I have a good excuse to be lazy.” He held up his hands. “One thing though. If we do end up going to Cape Cod, there will no dares. All summer long. Swear?” He glowered at me sternly.

  I gave him my best “who me?” expression. “What would we even have to dare about? Who can paddle the canoe fastest using their teeth?”

  He chuckled, but his intense expression didn’t waver. He knew my deflecting techniques all too well. “Swear to me, Andy.”

  “No dares,” I promised sincerely.

  Famous. Last. Words.

  Andy

  Jake’s mom, Sandra, drove us to the cottage on Sunday. Jake, being Jake, felt guilty about it.

  “I’m sorry you had to waste your one day off work,” he told her when we were on the freeway. I was in the back seat chilling. It wasn’t like I could do much to keep myself entertained with both hands wrapped up.

  “Don’t be silly! Of course I wanted to see you—you’ve been injured. And I’m still mad that I couldn’t make your graduation.”

  “It’s fine, Mom. We celebrated with Sierra at Christmas.”

  “I know, but still. Are you sure you won’t come home for the summer?”

  Jake shook his head. “You can’t take time off work to take care of me. And Andy already has a nurse lined up, so it makes the most sense for us to hang out together. Plus, no one else has to listen to us whine.”

  “I know. But I worry when you’re sick. Make sure you follow the doctor’s instructions exactly. God forbid you get an infection or that flesh-eating bug or something like that!”

  Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. That hadn’t actually occurred to me as a possibility. But thanks for putting it in my head.”

  “Nom nom nom nom nom.” I made chewing noises and held up my mummy hands threateningly.

  Sandra’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. It was a warning look, her mouth pressed tight. I stopped making chewing noises.

  “And you, Andy!” she scolded me. “I appreciate your helping us out this summer, but Jake would be in California working by now if not for you.”

  “Mom!” Jake groaned.

  “I know, I know! You said you’re responsible for your own decisions, and I agree. But the two of you together are like matches and gasoline, I swear! I hope after this incident, you’ll both stop these dangerous tricks. You’re lucky you weren’t killed!”

  “Don’t worry, Sandra. I’ll be extra good.” I made a cross-my-heart gesture with one mummy hand. Which was sort of ironic and funny. I swallowed the smile, though.

  “So . . . how’s work going?” Jake asked her, no doubt trying to take the pressure off me. Good man.

  His mom started talking about her job at the dentist’s office, a subject which frequently referred to disgusting procedures and tales of horror. But at least I was forgotten for the moment. I watched the two of them talk, Jake prompting her now and then with a “What happened?” or “Seriously?”

  Jake and his mom didn’t look much alike. They had the same small, straight nose, but Jake was five eight with an average build. His mom was like five foot nothing. Jake’s hair was dark and straight. Hers was dirty blonde and kinky. His eyes were a chocolate brown like liquid Hershey kisses. Hers were a drab blue. He was also a lot smarter than his mom, in the academic sense. Very logical. I figured he’d gotten that from his dad, Mr. Tax Accountant and Serial Monogamist.

  “Andy has that all figured out. Don’t you, Planinator?”

  I blinked and looked at Jake in the front seat of the car. “Huh?”

  “I was telling Mom you have everything thought out. How we’re going to bathe and eat and all that stuff.”

  “Pretty much. Of course, Jake is much less dexterous with his toes than I am, so he might have to forego the peanut butter sandwiches.”

  I was joking. I’d learned a lot at the hospital after just two sessions with a therapist, but very little of it involved toes. The PT person, a chick named Debbie, had known all kinds of tricks, and my dad’s super-special insurance had paid for some handy tools from a medical supply place. But, in the hospital, there had always been someone around when I ran into trouble. The nurse would only be at the cottage for a few hours a day. We had some surprises ahead, no doubt.

  “Well, I still feel bad leaving you boys on your own in your condition. Promise me if it’s not working out, or if you need anything, you’ll call me, both of you.” Sandra’s eyes looked into mine again in the rearview mirror.

  “Sure,” Jake said.

  “Absolutely, Sandra,” I agreed.

  But we wouldn’t. I knew Jake. We could be wallowing on the floor in vomit and our own excrement, covered in sores, and he wouldn’t call his mom for help. Because she had “work” and he hated to cause her any trouble. And I wouldn’t call her for fear she’d come pick Jake up and I’d never see him again.

  I smiled at her reassuringly, though.

  It’d be fine. We had each other, and we were smart and creative. Besides, all we really had to do was relax and heal. Just Jake and me. Given the crazy shit we’d done in the past, this had to be a cakewalk.

  May 2010 - Ninth Grade

  Jake

  I stared at my best friend. “You’re insane. Loco! The sanity train has left the station, dude. There’s no way I’m doing that!”

  Despite my words, I was, in fact, not all that surprised at Andy’s suggestion. He had a thing for the bizarre. Recently, he’d made me watch this video of a circus where the performers chewed nails, were lifted by piercings in their back, and put razor blades up their nose and stuff. It was gross. But Andy loved that kind of thing. Street magic too, like David Blaine and Criss Angel. He loved the way people freaked out at that st
uff.

  But this was one gross-out too far.

  He held the box out to me. It was made of clear plastic that was probably specifically designed for insects because there were tiny air holes in the top. Inside were three wiggling green creatures. “Come on! They’re perfectly harmless, I swear! Wanna see me eat one?”

  “No!”

  “So, the trick is to get a bunch of saliva in your mouth,” Andy explained patiently, “sort of at the back, like a little well, then open wide, drop it in there, and swallow really fast. You can’t even taste it.”

  “Don’t!”

  Of course, Andy ignored me. He drew in his cheeks, gathering spit, picked up one of the green, disgusting caterpillars from the box, tilted his head back, opened his mouth, and dropped it in. He gulped quickly. Swallowed again. Then he took a drink from the bottle of water he’d stuck on a nearby half brick wall, grimacing a little. Finally, he looked at me with a big smile even though his eyes were watering. “See? Nothing to it!”

  I put my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, that was disgusting. I need to scrub my brain. No, I need an actual lobotomy after seeing that.”

  “I know!” He grinned excitedly. “Isn’t it great? Just imagine how much worse it’ll be if people think they’re poisonous. They’ll go fucking nuts!”

  This was such a crazy bad idea. It had started when Mr. Bademeyer in biology had brought in some new critters for his tanks. He was into weird life-forms. Come to think of it, Mr. Bademeyer was a weird life-form. But, anyway, he had a tarantula, lizards, and other creatures in tanks in his room. Last week he’d added green fuzzy caterpillars from Brazil that he said were the “deadliest caterpillars on earth.” They killed a couple of people a year.

  After that class, I’d seen a dangerous spark in Andy’s eye, and I knew it’d meant trouble. But he hadn’t mentioned the caterpillars again until right now.

  “Are you sure those aren’t actually poisonous? I thought all caterpillars could bite.” I eyed the box warily.

  “Nah. I got these down by the river, and I Googled them. They’re just a garden-variety type. It’s really hard to get them to bite you, but even if they did, you might get a little swelling, that’s it. And when you swallow ’em fast, they don’t have time to bite. I ate two last night and I wasn’t nauseous or anything.”