by Hazel Grace
“Sure.”
“Don’t hit any of the inside balls today.”
I pin him with a scowl. “Oh geez, are you trying to make Colson mad again?”
“He loves it, don’t let him fool you.” He gives me a wink and starts walking backward out of the dugout. “I’ll text you later.”
After a week of Gavin’s pleas and him selling the party at Moonlight Ridge to me, I end up caving and decide to go. I know that I would’ve stared at my phone for a text that would never come, so I con Taylor and Heather into coming with me, both of them explaining that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.
Honestly, I don’t care.
I want to be a little reckless, a tad bit daring, and to experience high school life for what it was in this town. I honestly think I’ll survive with taking a pie to the face. Plus, I’ll get to eat it so, win, win.
When the three of us arrive, about thirty kids are off the bank of a small enclosed lake surrounded by woods. The moon is bright tonight, overcasting the scene of teens huddling over a bonfire and throwing a football around. I notice some of them from the baseball and softball teams, drinking beer and talking amongst themselves.
It’s a little eerie out, we had to walk a good two minutes, down a narrow path of forest in the middle of nowhere just to end up here. Just like everything else in this town.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Taylor asks me as we stand together overlooking our classmates.
“Are we joining a cult or something?” I inquire back, waiting for someone to howl at the moon.
Heather chuckles. “Uh, no, worse. You might be robbing McLoren’s barn or streaking naked in the woods tonight.”
My head whips to her. “What?”
“These kids are juvenile.” Heather looks over my face. “Just try not to look as nervous as you do now.”
I wasn’t nervous until she just mentioned that. Gavin made it sound like this was an innocent game, something else to do on the normal, slow weekends here.
“You want to turn back?” Taylor asks, giving me a nudge. “They haven’t seen us yet, and you look like you’re going to have a heart attack.”
“I wasn’t until you said people might see me naked,” I seize, feeling my heart sink in my chest.
“Just act like you don’t care,” Heather says on the other side of me. “That’s what I do.” A few kids notice our arrival then, including Gavin, and he raises up his hand in greeting.
“Busted,” Heather murmurs, as she watches Gavin approach us.
“Hey ladies,” he beams. “Welcome!”
“Where’s the beer at, Sheston?” Heather retorts, jutting out her hip. Tension clogs the air and I look back and forth between them.
Gavin nods behind him, looking unaffected. “In the bed of a few of the trucks.” She releases my arm, pushing past him, not looking back to say goodbye or that she’ll be back. His eyes follow her, and Taylor whispers quickly in my ear.
“She had a huge crush on him in middle school, and he didn’t like her back.” She straightens just as Gavin returns his attention to us.
“Come on, let’s go get warm.” The night air is brisk, but my ransacked nerves keep my face and body warm. Taylor and I hover over the fire for a few minutes as we talk to our classmates, and I try to keep the upcoming events that I signed up for far from my mind.
This isn’t going to be that bad. Heather is just over exaggerating.
“Let me grab you something to drink,” Taylor utters next to me moments later. “We don’t need you to stroke out.”
“You’re a freaking jerk,” I mutter while she just smirks and squeezes my arm, leaving me at the fire.
“Ready to pick?” Gavin asks next to me. I peer over at him holding a baseball cap.
“Pick?” He shuffles small pieces of paper in the hat.
“Yep, you pick a number.”
God. Okay, Heather and Taylor were right, I wasn’t ready for this.
Hesitantly, I put my hand in the hat, shuffling the papers with my fingers before I pull one out. It burns in my hand as my palm sweats around it.
This is the destiny of how my night is going to proceed. And I’m being super dramatic right now.
This is a small town in Oklahoma, how bad could this really get?
I watch Gavin extend his hat out to the others while Taylor comes back with a beer for me. No one else appears nervous, still talking and laughing amongst each other, so I’m starting to feel like a moron for even having the jitters.
“Alright, let’s start,” Gavin announces to the crowd. “Look at your paper, there is a number at the corner. Who’s number one?”
“I am,” bellows a girl’s voice from the crowd. She steps forward, the fire illuminating her blonde hair and short frame. With her chin thrust in the air and her friends chanting her on, she waits for her next instructions.
“Awesome,” Gavin replies. “Unfold your paper and tell us if you have truth or dare.”
She quickly unravels the small piece and shrugs. “Truth.” The crowd does an “owww” sound, which trickles a sense of nervousness down my spine for her.
“Who has number 11?”
“I do,” a lanky guy replies in front of the crowd.
Gavin nods at him. “Ask her for a truth.”
The guy smirks at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Truth, Lily, did you lose your virginity to Mark Decola freshman year?” Her mouth slowly widens in shock but then she quickly snaps out of it.
“You’re an asshole, Tom,” Lily bites out, giving him a death glare. Tom smirks and glances over at his friends for approval.
“Answer the question...or ask for the ultimate.” Lily shifts her weight to one leg as she looks over at her girlfriends. They offer mixed answers of her just answering it and taking the ultimate.
“The ultimate,” she bellows. A hush falls over everyone, some covering their mouths, stunned.
Taylor scoffs next to me. “She’s such an idiot.”
“What are they going to make her do?” I fret. She gives me a dismissive wave.
“Who the hell knows.”
“What’s the first ultimate on the list?” Gavin inquires, looking over at a group of guys behind him.
“Jumping in the lake,” one of them responds. “Naked.” In the firelight, I can see Lily’s face pale.
“What if she doesn’t do it?” I quickly ask Taylor.
“She doesn’t get to come back here, for one,” she replies. “No parties and people will start being complete dickheads to her for the rest of the year.”
“Can she change her mind and do the truth?”
“Yeah.”
Gosh, there would be no way I’d be getting naked in front of everyone, but being shunned through your whole senior year, yeah no.
“Fuck,” Lily mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. “Yes, Mark took my virginity, but it was in eighth grade.”
Eighth grade?!
Am I that far behind the curve? I’ve barely gone past first base with a guy. And I won’t even look at myself naked in the mirror.
The crowd whistles and cheers while Gavin settles them down. “Alright, alright. Who’s number two?” Everyone checks their papers then looks around to find the unfortunate soul.
“What number do you have?” Taylor asks, pulling my paper out of my death grip. “Oh shit. You’re number two.” All the air in my lungs dissipates.
No, no. I can’t do this.
“Number two?” Gavin repeats, looking around the crowd.
“Whatever you do,” Taylor claims. “Don’t choose the ultimate.” I’m about to ask her if we can leave when she shoves me forward.
“You number two, Boyd?” Gavin implores with a raised brow. I nod because I can’t say anything, my tongue is frozen in my mouth, and my brain is flashing off warning signs to run. “What do you have?”
I glance down at my small, now tattered, scrap of paper.
Dare.
“She has dare,”
Taylor calls out for me. I want to snap at her to shut up, but the blood has drained from my head.
This was such a stupid idea.
“Okay, what’s the first dare?” Gavin asks, but his voice sounds miles away.
I think I’m going deaf, everything sounds muffled. Not the crickets I heard moments ago or the small waves crashing along the shoreline. But I do hear the snickers from the guys behind Gavin.
“She has to make out with Colson Hayes,” one of them states with so much pleasure in their tone that it makes my stomach start to knot itself.
Dread.
Absolute utter dread fills me to the brim. I’ve never had anxiety like this, my body starts to tremble with nerves and the thought of Colson’s broody body anywhere near me.
“Colson isn’t here,” I hear someone quickly say.
My halted breath breaks into a heavy exhale.
Thank you, God. I swear I will say my prayers every night from now on.
My shoulders relax, and everything around me starts to sound normal again. My frantic heart starts to slowly steady down. I’d take Lily’s jumping in the lake naked over feeling Colson’s lips on me.
“Colson is here,” a girl squeals in glee. My eyes dart to the sound of the voice, my blood now turning cold, producing goosebumps up and down my arms.
The crowd of my fellow classmates parts like the Red Sea, revealing the person that makes me think stripping down naked is still the better option. Because evading him is just better for my mental health and well being.
I watch Colson stroll through them, confident, solemn, and downright breathtaking. He’s dressed in dark jeans, a Freemont baseball sweatshirt, and a baseball cap. His dark hair is exposed carelessly across his forehead, which leads me to his light brown irises.
And his full focus is on me.
“Shit.” That coming from Gavin. His proclamation does nothing but make it worse because apparently I’m not the only one that knows this will not be good.
I am not kissing Colson Hayes.
It would only bring on more taunting, and I just...can’t kiss him. He’s experienced, I’m not. He’ll be sure to tell me how I drooled over him while trying to shove my tongue down his throat. That my lack of lip locking is a shortcoming and I do it like a dead fish.
Nope, I’m not doing it.
“The ultimate,” I blurt out before I can even think about my decision. This time, there are no “owws” or chuckles, instead, I get a few muttered gasps of shock. I hear Gavin ask what the said ultimate is, and when he turns to look back over to me, he’s paled.
Oh my God, they are really going to force me to get naked.
Gavin steps closer to me, bowing his head into his chest as though he’s going to give me something way worse than my previous option.
They’re going to make me drown puppies. Or burn a house down. Maybe they’ll make me—
“So, the ultimate,” Gavin murmurs sluggishly in front of me, “is making out with me.” A defeated exhale leaves my body again.
He appears sorry, his eyes are soft while his lips frown. I can feel Colson’s stare piercing through my flesh, and I can’t help but look over at him, even when my conscious warns me not to. His light eyes are now dark eyes and furrowed, stabbing me with caution, a warning that I better pick the right choice.
I clench my hands into fists, willing myself to take the safer option. The only other choice I have.
Just do it.
That or be shunned.
My feet move on their own accord before I can even think twice. If I show fear, that I’m a scared girl who can’t take the wrath of Colson Hayes, I’ll never survive the rest of this year. Everyone will know who I am, even the parts I try to hide. My fear of not being enough, my inexperience of kissing and doing other “things” that everyone else around here seems to do already. I must be the only damn virgin left in Freemont.
My hands cup Gavin’s face, and I stand on my tiptoes. “I’m sorry if I suck,” I whisper before slamming my lips to his mouth.
He stiffens underneath my fingertips, probably in shock or thinking I didn’t have the guts to do it.
Shoot, I didn’t either.
I’m must be high on fresh air or the crickets could be doing some voodoo chant to make me gain some courage. But I, Sawyer Boyd, just pressed my lips to one of the most popular guys in school.
And he’s kissing me back.
His hands settle on my hips, opening his lips slightly, hinting for me to do the same. His lips are thin but soft, tasting like bitter beer. My body jolts a little when his tongue enters my mouth, and I hesitate to touch his. But I’ve seen a million makeout scenes in movies, the girl lets the guy lead into something magically. And even though this isn’t a scene in A Walk to Remember, I’ll still always commemorate it.
Gavin’s sandpapery hands cup my cheeks, taking more of a guide to our kiss, which I’m grateful for, continuing at a slow speed and expertly making me a tad lightheaded. I’m hoping since he hasn’t cut our kiss off that I’m not as horrible as I feared.
His chest flattens against mine, closing the inches between us, and when I think he’s going to do something different, he breaks it. His forehead pressing against mine while I keep my eyes closed, afraid to be greeted by the possibility of seeing a sickening look to his face.
“You were awesome,” he mumbles softly. My eyes shoot open to him grinning at me as he leans forward to kiss my cheek. “I hope I get to do that again some day.” His words brush warmly along my skin, parting my jaw slightly agape as he steps away.
“Who’s number three?” shouts one of the guys behind us. I quickly look around, and no one seemed to really care of my public display of lip locking. They’re all too interested in searching for the next victim in this weird game of country truth or dare.
Until my gaze falls on Colson.
He’s standing still amongst the throng of teens, glaring at me with eyes of stone. My palms start to sweat at his glower. Colson’s hands are shoved in his pockets, but I can tell they’re in fists because of the roundness below the seam. He looks like he wants to murder me in cold blood with his skin flushed in crimson.
All this time, I just wanted to fit in and be accepted. Not getting assassinated by Colson’s eyes or sliced by his words. I want to just “be.”
But I think I just rattled the beast’s cage—publicly. And I don’t have a sword or any armor to shield myself from his wrath.
One that I have a funny feeling I’m going to suffer from greatly.
Present day
“Dude, I can’t believe I’m talking to you right now,” Ben gushes over the phone. “I’ve looked you up on social media, the white pages. I was getting borderline stalker.”
I smirk. “It’s nice to talk to you too, man.” I unfold the flyer Coach gave me, flattening it out on the countertop of my mom’s kitchen island. “Coach gave me your flyer for your baseball team, I see you need some help?”
“Fuck, yes,” he exhorts. “You think those Yale kids were hard to play when we were in our prime? Shit, they’re all on ‘roids now, all beefed up and shit. You still play?”
My nostrils flare. “Not in a while.”
“Staying in Freemont?” I survey the pristine kitchen that I’m sitting in. White cabinets and gray marble countertops with the dozen wine glasses hanging over the stovetop that my mother never cooked on. A fridge that was never filled with anything but carry-out containers when I was a kid after Dad died. And the only drinks were water from the faucet, beer for one of her boyfriends, and wine.
“Not sure on that,” I reply. “Coach offered me his job.”
“What?” Ben exclaims. “Take it.”
“I’m—”
“I’ll be your assistant coach. It’ll be like old times, minus the drills and laps we used to run.” I hear him chuckle. “Fuck, it’d be fun as hell, watching those poor kids sweat their balls off while we sip beers in the dugout.”
“I’m actually considering it,”
I reply honestly, twirling the flyer around the counter. And I have because Coach was right. I was fucking good at baseball. It was what I was supposed to do. Even if I didn’t play pro, at least I could help some kid achieve their dream. Maybe I’ll be in a speech one day as some motivational role model in a kid’s life.
“You’d be great at it,” Ben says. “Then you can get your baseball kicks with us and just live the dream.”
“Yeah,” I agree. My phone beeps with another incoming call. “Text me the schedule and where you practice, buddy, I gotta go.”
“Sure thing, man. Later.” I switch over to the other line and say, “Hello.”
“Hi, Mr. Hayes?”
“That’s me.”
“My name’s Veronica from Better Living Realty, I got your email about wanting to sell your home.” I round the island and grab a beer out of the fridge.
“Yeah, my mom’s.”
“Okay, great,” she gushes, way too excited about this. “We’ll be sending over a professional photographer to get photos and place the listing on our website.”
I pop the cap off my bottle. “Sounds good.”
“Now, we don’t want to get into your busy schedule, so just text me when you’re ready, and we’ll set it up.” I take a swig of my beer.
“The sooner, the better. Does this weekend work?”
“Hmm…” I hear her type loudly on the other end. “Yes, that’d work perfectly. Does the home need any work?” I fight back a mirthless laugh.
“No, trust me, you won’t have any issues selling this house. My mother kept everything immaculate. I wasn’t even allowed to sit on the furniture as a kid.” Veronica lets out a soft laugh. She thinks I’m joking, I’m not.
I remember the high-pitched shrills of her voice when she caught me watching TV in the family room, like a normal kid, while I sat on her brand-new Italian suede couch. She got rid of every piece of furniture she bought with my father after he died, redesigning the house to fit her own personal tastes. I was the only thing she couldn’t mold to fit her perfect, materialistic world.
