Truth or Dare

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Truth or Dare Page 3

by Sloan Johnson


  “You afraid she’d say yes?” Robby asks, point-blank. He leans back against the makeshift bar secured to the wall, settling in for as long as it takes to hear what he wants to from me.

  “Fuck yes! I know she’ll have her shit in the car before I can finish asking her.” Heading south is going to be hard enough for me, there’s no way I’m going to let her give up her own dreams for mine.

  “Failing to see the problem. She can go to school there as easy as she can up here.” He tips back his beer, draining the amber liquid before tossing the empty bottle into a barrel in the corner. “And you two have worked harder at avoiding one another than most couples do at staying together. It might sound pussy, but that girl is your soul mate.”

  He hops off the stool, asking me if I want another beer while he’s up. I nod, straining to see through the crowd to where I left Lea. She’s curled up on the end of the couch, struggling to stay awake, despite the thumping bass filling the room. As soon as I can shake Robby, I need to get her home. She’s usually the responsible one who drives me home, but tonight it looks as if it’s my turn.

  “Fuck dude, you really do have it bad.” Robby laughs as he hands me a beer. I set it on the bar and stand to get back to check on Lea when I see Amanda whispering something in her ear.

  “You’ve known this for a while. I’m not going to deny that, but it doesn’t mean I can do anything about it, either.” Robby follows me into the living room, which is a good thing, just in case I need him to run interference with the catty bitches who look like they’re about ready to pounce.

  “Hey, I’m going to pour her into the car and head home. If you want to get some of our crew together and follow me, that’s cool, but I think CB needs to be somewhere comfortable to sleep this one off.” Robby helps me get a very inebriated Lea off the couch, clearing the way as I lead her to the door. This is more than just the few beers I watched her pound during quarters. A pit forms in my stomach as I wonder what the fuck happened before I got here.

  “Give me your keys, I’ll grab the Cutlass so you don’t have to carry her down the block.” I turn to the side and Amanda reaches into my pocket for the keys so I don’t have to let go of Lea, who can barely stand on her own by this point.

  Robby sinks onto the top step next to me while we wait for Amanda to get back with my car. I can’t remember the last time I let anyone other than Lea drive it, but I have to trust that she’ll be able to drive the beast without hitting anything.

  “How much did she have?” Robby asks, putting voice to the question running through my mind. It doesn’t escape me that Robby and Amanda are the only two who even seemed to notice how bad off Lea is. The rest of them either don’t give a shit or don’t care and that pisses me off.

  “No fucking clue, but not this much. I swear, if that fucker slipped her something before I got here, I’ll kill him.” It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. Bowie’s lucky I have no intention of leaving Lea’s side once I get her home tonight.

  “Don’t worry, bud. You take care of your girl, I’ll see what I can find out,” Robby promises me, slapping me on the back as he stands.

  Sitting in the darkness with the muffled sounds of the party continuing inside, I stare at Lea’s limp body on my lap. In four years, I’ve never seen her like this. “We’ll get you home, CB. You’ll be fine tomorrow.”

  She doesn’t open her eyes as her head flops against my chest. “I love you, Colby. Thank you for taking such good care of me.” Her words are so quiet and slurred I can almost convince myself she didn’t say them. Chances are good she won’t remember this moment tomorrow morning, but I know I’ll never forget hearing those three little words passing her lips.

  **

  By the time we get home, Lea is straight-up passed out. Carrying her into the apartment, I don’t bother turning on any lights. Even though she can’t weigh more than one-twenty soaking wet, it’s hard to hold onto her limp body while I pull back the covers on her bed. I remove her sandals off, tossing them toward the closet before reaching for the buttons on her denim shorts. She lifts her hips as my fingers curl around the waistband, allowing me to slide the material down her long legs. It’s the first sign I’ve had in nearly thirty minutes that she has any fucking clue what’s going on around her.

  “Don’t go,” she pleads with me when I move to walk away. I’ve dreamed of this moment more times than I can count, but not like this. “Please stay with me.”

  As I slide into the bed next to her, I tell myself I’m only staying with her so I can keep an eye on her. Not because she asked me to while she’s all fucked up, not because I’ve wondered since we moved in together what it would be like to wake up with her in my arms. Every time I breathe in, my nose is filled with the scent of apple blossoms, causing an uncomfortable bulge to form behind the zipper of my jeans. It’s going to be a long fucking night if I have to try to sleep with a case of blue balls, but that’s my only option because I can’t leave her and I can’t do anything about this not-so-little problem.

  Shortly after her breathing evens out and I know she’s sleeping peacefully, there’s a soft knock on her bedroom door. When I don’t say anything, I see a sliver of light enter the room as Amanda opens the door. “Hey, how’s she doing?” she whispers, not even questioning the fact that I’m lying in bed with her best friend.

  I motion for Amanda to go out to the living room and ease my way off the mattress. Lea stirs, and I lean in to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back,” I promise her. She mumbles something, rolling to her side and settling with her hands under her cheek.

  Robby and Amanda are sitting on the couch when I exit the bedroom, both with smug grins on their faces. Even though I was the one who suggested that Robby invite a group back to our place, I’m thankful that they’re the only two here. They’ll keep my mind from wandering to all of the possibilities of what’s going on with Lea, at least for a few hours. It’s inevitable that this is going to wind up being a sleepless night for me because every time I close my eyes, I start to worry that Bowie slipped something in her drink. Fucker. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense, even if it makes no sense at all. He’s a conceited, arrogant prick, but I’m having a tough time wrapping my head around the idea of him stooping so low.

  “How’s she doing?” Amanda asks again as I fall into the broken recliner in the corner of the room. Lea has been riding my ass to get rid of this chair, but it’s comfortable. And it’s one of the few things in the apartment that’s mine. This whole situation has me so screwed up in the head that I’m almost willing to part with it because seeing her like that makes me want to do anything I can to see her happy.

  “She was totally out of it by the time I brought her home, but she woke up a bit when I was getting her into bed.” No point in telling them what I was doing, it’ll only add fuel to their fire. “Did you find out anything after I took off?”

  Robby shakes his head, but his eyes are darting around, finding anything other than my face to focus on. This is why we all love playing poker against him; he can’t lie for shit.

  “Tell me,” I demand, leaning forward in the chair, resting my arms on my knees. “I swear to Christ, if it was fucking Bowie, I’ll kill him. Seriously, the girl that’s sleeping in the other room right now is not Lea. She might not drink often, but I’m the one who’s here when she does. She gets giggly, says shit she wouldn’t have the balls to when she’s sober, but that’s it. This isn’t just a few beers, someone gave her something.”

  Amanda presses one finger to her lips, glancing toward the closed bedroom door. Instantly, I feel like an ass for getting loud when Lea’s in there trying to sleep. “If you’re that convinced she was drugged, maybe we should take her to the hospital.”

  Maybe I should have driven her straight there, but I know that there will be a shitload of questions. And seeing as we’re the three with her now, I know they’re going to assume that one of us had something to do with it. Lea’s parents already hate my guts, I c
an’t imagine any good would come of them seeing those charges in the mail. If they had their way, she would still be living in the dorms. “If she doesn’t sleep it off, then we’ll deal with it. You know she doesn’t even go in when she thinks she has pneumonia because her parents freak about every little thing. She’ll be pissed if she wakes up in a hospital bed.”

  Nervous energy fills my body. There has to be something I can do. Until I figure out what that is, I’ll pace around the room like a caged animal, trying to think of who could possibly have done this to her. Robby is still being quiet, but he did say he doesn’t think Bowie had anything to do with it. For now, I have to trust my best friend, have faith that he wouldn’t keep something like this from me.

  “I’m going to do it,” I say quietly to no one in particular. With every passing minute, the more resolved I am to tell Lea how I really feel about her. Nashville will still be there when she’s done with school, but I’m not going to sit by and let other fuckers think they can do shit like spike her drinks to up their chances of getting in her pants. Fuck. That.

  Chapter 5

  Lea

  The biggest problem with the night is that morning always comes. What was comforting in the darkness is terrifying in the light…

  One by one, my senses come to life. Stale beer coats my mouth. The offensive morning sun streaming in through the windows somehow manages to blind me despite the fact that my eyes are still shut tight. Birds chirping louder than is decent for whatever hour of the morning it is. The subtle combination of cologne and Colby’s natural scent. Colby’s arm resting over my—

  “What in the hell?” I croak, my throat so dry the words are barely audible. Prying my eyes open, I glance to the side and see Colby sound asleep next to me. He’s with me in my bed. I lift the blankets, mortified when I see that I’m only wearing a pair of satin bikinis on the lower half of my body. What happened to my shorts? He wouldn’t have…would he? No, there has to be an explanation.

  Staring at him, I try to remember what happened last night. There are some memories of being at the dead end and me storming away from him, pissed off that he was hanging on some slut who only comes out when she’s looking for action. Amanda sweetly telling me it might be time to move on, which seemed out of character for her since she’s usually pointing out what a dog Colby is, and that I need someone better than him. Damien showing up at the party and Amanda bailing, saying she needed something stronger to get through a night in the same zip code as her abusive asshole of an ex-boyfriend. Bowie and I talking in the kitchen. Bowie and I going outside. Quarters. And then…blank.

  Totally freaking blank. It figures that the one night I get so annihilated that I have no clue what happens is the night that something happened with Colby. The more I think about the situation I’m in this morning, the less upset I am with myself and the more I want to pull my knee up between Colby’s legs--hard. I hate him for waiting until I was so drunk I can’t remember our first, and likely only, time together. My head is throbbing, but I’m not sure if it’s a reminder of why I don’t drink or the agony of betrayal making me feel this way.

  “Morning,” Colby says as I try to carefully lift his arm off my body so I can get up to use the bathroom. There are so many things I want to say to him, not a single one of them as pleasant as ‘good morning’. I thought he was different from other guys. More than anything else, I can’t believe he’s acting like this is totally normal. Like this isn’t the first time I’ve woken to his arm draped casually over my body, a body that is devoid of shorts.

  Without saying a word in reply, I toss his arm off my body and jolt out of the bed, immediately regretting the quick movement. Every hair follicle on my body hurts this morning. As I make my way to the bathroom, I vow to never drink again.

  Safely behind closed doors, I allow the tears to fall. On the outside, I might come across as confident and happy, but inside, I’m still the self-deprecating fat girl that everyone loved to taunt as I walked through the halls of my high school. Part of the draw to this circle of friends was the fact that no one up here judged me. They never treated me like I was an easy mark because I counted any attention from a good looking guy as a blessing. It was the place that allowed me to come into my own and give a damn about myself for the first time in my life. And now, thanks to one drunken night, all of that has been stripped away. At least he was sweet enough to partially dress me after he did whatever he did to me while I was out of it.

  “Lea, open up!” Colby commands, pounding on the thin, hollow door. I can picture him standing there, wearing nothing but his low-hanging jeans, bare chest on display and it causes the sobs to increase in intensity.

  “Go away, Colby! I have nothing to say to you!” I scream, hoping he can’t hear how devastated I am. Here I thought that telling him that I’m in love with him would be what tore apart our friendship. As it turns out, all I had to do was get drunk when he was horny and no one else was around to take care of him. The pounding continues, interrupted only by the sound of Colby trying to wiggle the doorknob just right to get it to open. Damn this dive apartment and its shitty maintenance and damn him for knowing that he’ll get the lock to pop if he keeps trying.

  “What the fuck is going on over there?” Great, in my haste to escape Colby, I didn’t even realize that Robby crashed on our couch last night. Now, I’m going to have to figure out how to get back to the bedroom without him seeing me in my hot pink bikini underwear.

  “Go back to sleep,” Colby says, frustration lacing his rich voice. “Lea woke up and she’s pissed off at me for some reason.”

  For some reason? I reach for the door, ready to unleash every ounce of fury my throbbing mind can muster when I remember we’re not alone. “You know exactly why I’m pissed off at you, Davis!”

  “No, I actually have no clue why you’re upset,” he says flatly. “We need to talk about what happened to you last night, Lea. Get cleaned up and I’ll grab you some clothes.”

  “Oh, now you want to talk about last night?” I’m seething, my hands balled into tight fists at my sides. “Fuck that! You didn’t want to talk about it last night, so I don’t see why we need to talk about it now. You know, I thought you were so much better than other guys, but you’re a creep, just like the rest of them!”

  “Lea? Can I come in?” Amanda’s here too? This is just wonderful. Both of our best friends were here to see what happened last night and the fallout this morning.

  “Please just go away,” I beg, burying my face in my hands. “I need to be alone right now. I’ll call you later.”

  There’s silence on the other side of the door as I strip out of my strappy tank top and panties while the water heats for my shower. I pull the curtain closed behind me, allowing the steaming water to wash away every memory that I can’t handle remembering as last night comes back to me. Tears fall with the rivulets of water, swirling in the drain as my body heaves with regret.

  “Lea, we need to talk,” Amanda says quietly. Fucking lock. The toilet seat closes and I know she’s here for the long haul. “What do you remember about last night?”

  “Apparently not the part that ended with Colby in my bed this morning,” I say sarcastically. God, is she really going to make me relive last night in hopes that I’ll remember some magical union that didn’t occur?

  “Do you remember leaving the party?” she asks, sighing loudly. Taking a minute, I try to recall anything after playing quarters with Bowie, Eric, Dina and a few other people. I faintly remember looking up to see Colby staring at me from up on the deck, but no, I don’t remember anything after that. How much did I drink?

  “Oh God, please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid at the party,” I groan, nervous that I made an ass of myself.

  “No, sweetie, but I think you need to finish up in there and meet me in the living room. I told Robby to take Colby out for breakfast so we could have some time without his temper getting in the way. But before I go, there’s one thing you need to know. You�
�re wrong about Colby and last night. You need to apologize to him when he gets home.” As I open my mouth to respond to her, I hear the bathroom door close softly and I know without peeking out the curtain that I’m alone again.

  As he promised, Colby has placed a fresh change of clothes on the small vanity. My cheeks flush red at the thought of him going through my drawers to find underwear and a bra for me.

  In an effort to delay the inevitable, I take my time blow-drying my hair into soft burgundy waves falling to the middle of my back. Having confirmation that there’s a huge chunk of the night that’s a mystery to me isn’t comforting, even if it means there’s a slim chance nothing happened with Colby. And if I’m relieved that nothing happened, why am I upset about that fact as well? Colby, the notorious woman-chaser of our group, and I’m the woman he won’t touch. What does that say about me?

  After about forty-five minutes holed up in the tiny bathroom, there’s nothing left for me to do in here to put off talking to Amanda. Taking a deep breath, I reach for the gold knob, turning slowly in a feeble attempt to steal a few more seconds of sanity.

  “It’s about time,” Amanda teases as I sulk over to Colby’s chair in the corner of the room. It’s either that or sit on the couch with her and I need some space right now. “You ready to talk about it?”

  I listen as Amanda recaps the events of last night, a chill creeping up my spine when she starts pushing for information on who gave me drinks. She hasn’t come right out and said that she thinks I was drugged, but the grave concern all over her face is a dead giveaway. Before responding, I close my eyes as if not seeing anything around me will help me draw a vivid picture of the time I was at Lippy’s. “Bowie gave me one, Tara and I did a shot together, and then Lippy brought me some fruity shit. And then there were a few beers during quarters, but those were small.”

 

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