“No worries,” I say, finding my voice. A voice, rather. Not mine. Because the one I find is an octave higher than mine and it scratches my throat. Cameron’s almond-shaped eyes crease in the corners as he grins for a second. Then he turns to greet the rest of the gang.
“Debbie and Mark are getting hitched!” Michelle cries out as Cameron enters the room. I shut the door, my heart throbbing. Now he’s got his back to me, I can’t make out his expression.
Shock? Horror? Total indifference?
“Cool,” he says with a shrug. He and I reach for a potato chip at the same time. When our hands touch, a rush of heat goes right to my head.
“Sorry, you go ahead,” he says in his deep, sexy, voice. Katia’s dark eyes beam at me as I look up and I almost jump back at the severity of her gaze. Thank goodness looks can’t really kill. Otherwise, I’d be nothing but a puff of black smoke right now.
Her lips move, but I can’t hear anything over the excited chatter. I know what she’s thinking, though.
Get a grip. You’re beginning to swoon.
Cameron takes a drink and settles on the arm of the couch, looking at Ryder’s laptop. As if whatever is on his screen is a million times more interesting than what is going on in the room.
A tiny part of my brain points out the fact this party is pretty lame. The pizza is late, there’s no music and no one can decide on a movie to watch.
I break away from Katia’s discerning stare to put on my hostess hat. I clear my throat.
This will be the best party, ever.
Am I a teeny, tiny bit concerned my parents will kill me if someone spills red wine on the white Persian rug? Yes.
Am I worried that if we get too loud, Mr. and Mrs. Frank from next door will call the cops? 100%.
But am I going to let any of it get in the way of having the most memorable party on this side of the century?
No. Freaking. Way.
I twirl my blonde curls and clear my throat, putting on a big smile and prompting the chatter to die down.
All eyes settle on me and it becomes so quiet, I worry that they can hear my heart beating like a drum.
“Welcome to the party, everyone. I’m super glad you could all make it,” I begin. My posture straightens and I roll my shoulders back, boosting my confidence by the minute. “Let’s start with Michelle’s experiment.”
Michelle rolls her eyes. “Experiment, oh please. It’s just an innocent game…”
“…that got us locked in a basement!” Debbie finishes, elbowing her best friend.
Mark pats her knee. “Which reminds me, I owe you a drink.” He winks at Michelle as the others guffaw. My stomach wobbles like a tower of jelly sitting on a maximum spin dryer.
“I’ll grab the bottle,” Michelle says, stooping down to root through her bag.
“Wait,” I blurt. All eyes land on me again, even Ryder looks up from his laptop.
I can’t let Michelle use the bottle tonight. What if it doesn’t land on Cameron? I fiddle with the buttons on my dress and chew my lip, trying to think of a way to look a little less desperate and more like I’ve come up with a genius idea.
Then an idea does strike me.
“How about we just forget the bottle? You told me it was my turn and I already know who I want to do the dare with.”
The eyes staring at me grow wider. Michelle’s brows rise so far up her forehead, I imagine they’ll jump off her face and fly to the ceiling if she forces them any higher.
“How do you know they are all dares for couples?” she asks. Someone snorts and Jonah shakes his head. “Oh, come on, drop the act. This truth or dare experiment––”
“––for my thesis,” Michelle cuts in.
“Is about couples. What is it, anyway? You think you have a theory that you can manipulate people into getting engaged? Well, it won’t happen to me.” Jonah crosses his arms with a determined frown. For a splinter of a moment, a look of hurt crosses Michelle’s face but it fades quickly and she breaks into an evil grin.
“There’s no fun in telling you. Yet,” she says.
Ryder raises his hand.
“If I’m honest, the bottle is a tad juvenile, don’t you think?”
Ryder is a man of few words, and yet when he does speak, it is always right to the point. And that’s the second time he’s said something offensive tonight.
He’s on a roll.
Michelle forces a smile; the kind she makes to people when she is secretly plotting their demise. Then she turns to me.
“Fine. It’s your turn, Holly. Tell us. Who do you want to be your partner for the dare?”
“Or truth,” Katia adds.
“No, I’m choosing a dare,” I say before my brain can compute. I dig my fingernails into my palms until my eyes water at the pain. “I choose Cameron.”
Cameron
There’s something off about Holly tonight. But I can’t put my finger on what exactly. First, she's wearing a dress. I’m almost certain the last time she wore anything other than denim or black leggings was for prom.
On top of that, it’s a pink figure-hugging dress. Her slender shoulders and narrow waist are on full show, rather than hidden under an oversized sweater.
And her hair, usually scraped back into a messy bun and sitting like a bird's nest atop her head, is hanging free in loose curls.
She looks… like a girl.
I shake the thought out of my mind as my name escapes her lips.
Am I surprised she chose me to do the dare with her? No. We’re best friends and everyone else in the room has history. Still though...
“Okay, choose a paper,” Michelle instructs, holding out a glass jar to Holly. Jonah nudges me, but I keep my eyes fixed on Holly, holding my breath.
“Your dare is––” Michelle stops and looks around
