CHAPTER FOUR — STEPHANIE
The night is off to a good start. It's only ten o'clock, but everyone is already wasted. Besides Mandy and myself, there are four other girls.
I look around my basement. There are multiple bowls filled with chips, pretzels, and M&Ms. There are Smirnoff Ice bottles strewn everywhere, including one that's tipped over. I think to myself, I should go clean it up, but then I forget as Mandy tells a joke.
"I've got it," Ashley says, clapping her hands together. "Let's play truth or dare."
I look at her, her bright blue eyes shiny with excitement, like a kid on Christmas morning eyeing his presents from Santa.
Her excitement is palpable. It's endearing.
Ashley's always been bubbly, full of life.
She's so over the top about things, but you can't help but get into it with her.
Shooting her down would feel like kicking a puppy.
All the girls start nodding, and within less than a minute, it's decided: truth or dare it is.
"All right, I'll go first," Ashley says, plopping down on my gray sofa. "Janet, truth or dare?"
"Hmm."
Janet taps a red lacquered nail against her chin.
"Truth," she says.
"Hmm," Ashley says, pausing.
She looks around the room, and a strand of blonde hair falls in front of her eyes. She tucks it back and squints really hard.
"I've got it," she says. "Tell us the biggest and smallest dick you've ever fucked."
"Ashley!" Janet squeals.
She picks up a paper towel, balls it up, and throws it at Ashley. Ashley giggles, but swats it away.
"Come on, tell us," Ashley says.
"Okay," Janet says.
"You know, women are really bad at estimating dick size," Carrie chimes in. "I read it in a magazine once. Apparently, women overestimate by a few inches."
"Okay, so whatever Janet says, we add or subtract two inches," Ashley says. "Got it. Janet?"
"Okay. Biggest, I'm going to say eight, and smallest, five."
"So the smallest was really three, then?" Mandy asks. "That doesn't seem right."
"Maybe I'm just good at estimating," Janet says. "Okay, my turn. Mandy, truth or dare?"
"Dare," Mandy says.
"I dare you to call your ex-boyfriend."
Mandy crosses her arms.
"Are you serious?" she asks. "You know we had a bad breakup."
Should I say something? Maybe Janet doesn't know all the details of Mandy's last breakup. I want to assume she doesn't, and that's why she's asking… because the alternative is just that Janet is being a bitch.
Just as I'm about to say something, Mandy responds.
"Fine, but I just have to call him. I don't have to say anything, okay?"
Janet nods.
Mandy pulls out her phone and starts dialing.
"Quiet," she says.
We all hush. We can hear the phone ringing. After three rings, there's a voice.
"Hello?"
It's deep. Male. I recognize it. I knew Mandy's ex. He cheated on her. He was your garden variety, no-name-brand asshole. I hear faint rap or hip-hop in the background. I think it's "God's Plan" by Drake. After a few more seconds of silence, Mandy hangs up.
"Happy?" she snaps.
"Yep," Janet says.
No hint of remorse at all.
"Okay. Stephanie," Mandy says, turning to me.
I'm a bit surprised. I thought she would try and get back at Janet. But then again, Mandy's never been petty like that. I should probably try and be more like Mandy, now that I think of it. I tend to hold grudges. It's probably toxic and not good for me or whatever. It is fun, though.
"Okay, truth," I say.
"Tell us about the most inappropriate crush you've ever had," she says.
I flush. Even though Mandy and I typically share everything, I haven't told her about the landlord. Should I say it? I look at the girls. They're all staring at me with rapt attention. Janet pops a pretzel in her mouth.
I feel the alcohol hit me again. I grab my red Solo cup, which is filled with rosé, and take a swig.
Fuck it. I'll tell them. These are my friends. They won't judge me, right?
"Okay," I say. "My landlord."
"Wait," Janet says. "Like, the one you have now?"
I nod. All the other girls are quiet for a second, and then almost in unison, they burst out laughing.
"You can't be serious," Janet says.
"Oh, I am serious. Dead serious. He's hot."
I take another sip.
Mandy taps her cheek.
"He is, actually. I've seen him. Kind of looks like George Clooney."
"Ooh, show us a picture," Ashley says.
"I don't have one."
"Is he on Instagram? Facebook?"
I shake my head.
"Damn. Wait, I have an idea," Ashley says.
I don't like where this is going.
"No, no, no," I say.
I raise my hand, but Ashley keeps talking.
"Let's go and — wait. We could come up with a reason. Um, we could pretend to be selling vacuums?"
"What?" Mandy asks. "Where the hell do you come up with these ideas, Ashley? And besides, where are we going to get a vacuum?"
Ashley gestures towards the vacuum in the corner of the basement.
"Yeah, but that's not in a package," Mandy says.
"Fine," Ashley says. "Do you have any better ideas?"
"Well, it's not my idea to go spy on the landlord in the first place."
Carrie looks around and then chimes in.
"Wait, are there any windows? Maybe we could just peek in?"
Before I can decide what to say, Ashley starts talking.
"There is. I remember walking by one on my way in. That's it. Let's go."
Before I can say anything, Ashley jumps up and all the women follow her. Mandy gets up second-to-last and looks at me with an "I'm sorry" look on her face. I shrug.
I know this is a bad idea, but I'm also too buzzed to really care. I feel a small thrill as we walk out the door. Whatever's about to happen, it'll be entertaining at the very least.