28. I Dare You
I Dare You
BECKER
This party blows.
I don’t even know why I’m here. Ok, that isn’t true.
Being the new guy on the team, it’s important to hang out with my teammates to get to know them better.
But that isn’t true either.
I’m here because I’m a fucking masochist. Seeing Talia and Mack together sucks more than anything in the world, and yet I can’t take my eyes off them.
Every time he kisses her, it feels like being hit in the teeth by a slapshot, but my stupid heart doesn’t want to get the hint.
There’s a part of me, the idiot part, that feels like I still have a shot with my brother’s girlfriend.
I’ve been repeating to myself that Talia was cheering for me like she would cheer for any other Cove Knight. And if I knew what’s good for me, I’d stop staring at them like a creep and go home.
Not living in the Gamma House is the only silver lining to this shitshow. I’ve never been so glad that I didn’t cave under the peer pressure of all my teammates who have been pestering me to pledge.
Tucker even promised me a room in the house if I decide to go for it.
No fucking way.
At least like this, I can go home when I feel like I’ve shown my face long enough or when I can’t take any more of the Mack and Talia show. Whichever comes first.
Thinking about silver linings, maybe there’s a second one. Gen isn’t here either. She’s been texting me all week, insisting on trying to sell me the idea of us as a power couple.
Her idea that having her on my arm would raise my profile and get me more media attention, and consequently more street cred with prospective NHL teams, sounds too farfetched to be true.
And even if it were, that isn’t the way I want to be signed.
In the twenty years I’ve been alive, I should have learned one thing. Don’t ever speak too soon. If you do, the universe will bend you over and have its dirty way with you without one drop of lube in sight.
I should have known better than to feel relieved about Gen’s absence.
“Is this a party or a funeral?” She walks into the basement of the frat house like she owns the place. And she isn’t alone; my former Bridgeport teammate Nigel Worthing is following her like a lovesick puppy.
Maybe I should warn him that Gen is like a double-edged sword. Even when she’s nice to you, you better watch for her sharp edges.
But then again, the guy’s an adult and a bit of a douche too. So I’ll stay out of it and let him figure it out on his own.
“If you want a party,” Mack bites out. “You should go back where you came from. Or did you miss half the school upstairs in the living room and out in the backyard?”
“I saw them. What I don’t get is why you guys are all down here. You wiped the ice with Seattle. Everyone wants to celebrate your victory.”
“Yeah, but people were getting too rowdy, and they were scaring Baety, so I came downstairs and these fuckers all followed me.” Tucker pets the duck he’s been holding in his arms the whole time.
Gen looks at the duck with a disgusted expression on her face.
“Ew, gross. I’ll never understand why you keep that smelly animal around.
You know the first home game of the season is one of the biggest parties of the year, and you’re missing it.
Just lock that thing in your room and go join the party. ”
Our goalie shakes his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he bites out. “But I’m over the noise and the sweaty bodies that reek of cheap booze. You guys enjoy the party. Colsen and Nash were taking Taryn to the movies. I think Baety and I might join them.”
“Are you taking your duck to the movie theater?” Gen sounds more disgusted with every passing second.
“Yeah. The owner and my old man go way back. He won’t care as long as Baety behaves.”
The second Tucker leaves the room, Gen turns to look at all of us. Aside from a couple of freshmen, most of the team is down here.
“If you guys insist on being antisocial, at least let’s play a game.”
Everyone agrees, and I think this might be my cue to go home. “I’m tired.” I announce.
“Oh, come on, Beavis.” Heston slaps me on the back. “For once in her life, Gen is right. This isn’t a funeral and you aren’t my eighty-year-old great-grandpa. Stay for at least one game.”
“Fuck you, Vaughn.” Gen flips him off. “But come on, Becks. Stay.”
“Stay. Stay. Stay.” Jayden begins chanting, and when everyone follows him, I can’t leave without looking like a party pooper.
Vaughn rubs his hands together. “So, what shall we play? Beer pong?”
“Boring,” Gen rolls her eyes. “Since most of the Cove Knights and a few of my Zeta sisters are here, I have just the game. It’s called I dare you.”
My brother rolls his eyes. “If beer pong is boring, I think truth or dare is even worse. We’ve played it at least a million times.”
“Do they check your hearing during your medical?” Gen snaps at him. “I said it’s called I dare you, not truth or dare.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?” Mack insists.
It isn’t. It’s a game we used to play all the time in Bridgeport.
“There is no truth in this game,” Nigel offers before I can. “Only dares.”
“Care to explain the rules?” Heston sounds intrigued.
“We need pen and paper and three bowls or hats.” My old teammate offers. “We write the name of each player twice to be placed once in two of the bowls. The middle bowls will contain actions, our dares.”
It’s quite self-explanatory from that point. The first name drawn is the person who is dared. An action is then drawn from the middle bowl.
“And the next name is the person on the receiving end of that action,” Nigel continues.
“Sounds fun. What happens if someone refuses or fails a dare?” Is Jayden’s question.
Gen’s hands go to her hips. “If people refuse a dare, there’s no point playing. If we play, we all have to accept the dares. Whether we’re on the giving or on the receiving end.”
“Fair,” Vaughn agrees. “And if someone fails?”
“The punishment could be anything we agree on. From prank calling Coach Harrison to shaving your head.”
That last suggestion has all the women in the room horrified.
“Fine, fine. No one is shaving their head.” Mack says. “And I personally veto anything involving Coach. You’re new, Worthing, so you might think that Coach’s scary look is just an act. Let me guarantee you that it isn’t.”
All the team veterans agree.
“Yeah, everyone is scared of Coach Harrison. Even the dean.”
After a few minutes of discussion, it’s agreed that anyone who fails a dare will have to streak their way from the basement into the hot tub out back passing through the living room and the kitchen and getting into the hot tub no matter how many people are inside.
Gen starts passing pieces of paper to everyone to write their name twice and an action of their choice.
“Wait a second.” I object. “Whenever I’ve played, we always agreed on some boundaries.”
Nigel sneers at me. “What are you afraid of, Shayba?”
Like I said, he’s a douche.
“This isn’t about being afraid.” I bite out. “But I’m sure we all agree that the dares can’t be something illegal. Like killing the other person. Or something too indecent, like fucking someone in front of everyone.”
Some of the guys chuckle at that suggestion.
“I mean, if any of the girls want a ride on the D-train…” Davis wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
I don’t think Davis is a bad guy, but he’s one of the most immature twenty-year-olds I’ve ever met.
“Yeah?” I challenge him. “What if your name is drawn and you get fuck as an action but the other person isn’t one of the girls? Or even better, what if one of guys draws fuck and then draws your name? If that rocks your boat, good for you. But—”
“No, you’re right. Sorry,” Davis looks redder than a tomato. “No fucking.”
There’s another debate, and we decide that if people decide to write something sexual, it can’t be anything past second base.
If people want a blowjob, they can get one in their own time and without a captive audience.
“So, nothing illegal and nothing past some light groping. Also, nothing that could cause serious harm or damage.” Mack adds. “We have a hockey season in front of us, and I’m pretty sure no one wants to have to explain how they got a season ending injury to Coach Harrison. Yeah?”
“If anyone writes kiss, it’s a French kiss. It’s mandatory.” Gen dictates.
No one seems to have any objection to that.
Now that we agreed to the ground rules, we write our names and a dare and drop each piece of paper into the appropriate bowl.
“Let’s begin. I’ll draw the first three names.” Gen decides.
Talia
I don’t get Gen’s hard-on for raffles.
Her track record with them is questionable at best. The last time she volunteered to draw something from a hat, she got us garum for Cantucci’s group project. Arguably the hardest to replicate and most disgusting option we could have gotten.
But as usual, no one dares to argue with the Zeta president.
“Ok, here we go. The person who will be dared is… Vaughn.”
We all laugh at the way Vaughn rubs his hands together. “Bring it.”
“The action is flash. And the person who gets an eyeful is Sam.”
My BFF sighs. “Great. Where are we going to do this?”
Rather than answering her question using his words, Vaughn stands up from his seat on one of the couches that were pushed closer together so that we could all sit down while we play.
“Why should Sam have all the fun? It’s nothing my teammates haven’t seen before. And you’re all welcome, girls.”
He drops his jeans and underwear for about five seconds.
His antics are met with laughter and a few embarrassed squeals.
Vaughn has always been confident, to the point of cockiness, and now I understand why.
Let’s just say that he has nothing to envy Macklin in the dick department.
“Ugh.” Sam blushes up to the root of her hair. “Thanks for manscaping. I guess.”
The next dare is for Jayden to do a body shot on Nigel.
There’s a lot of laughter as the new guy bares his hairy stomach and lays flat on the coffee table.
There are a lot of gagging noises on both sides, but eventually the dare is completed.
“Genevieve,” Jayden reads. “Confess a secret to… Mack.”