Chapter 2 #2
Everyone laughs along with Tank as they reminisce about what they were up to when they were eighteen.
El Jefe is older, yes, but he’s incredibly attractive with his salt and pepper beard and his intense eyes.
Honestly, if I met him outside of the clubhouse, at the bar for example, I’d probably try and take him home.
I’ve always had a thing for older men; I know, it screams daddy issues, so sue me.
Shit, I’ve drunk way more than I thought if I’m thinking about picking up El Jefe in a bar. Luckily my train of thought is interrupted by playful screams from the girls.
“What have I missed?” I ask Donovan, “I totally zoned out. ”
“We were talking about high school parties and have now decided to play Truth or Dare,” he says, before leaning in and whispering, “Better get our poker faces on.”
I chuckle, but inside I’m nervous, thinking of how this has the potential to go terribly wrong.
“Okay, so rules,” Ana says, to groans from the guys. She holds up her hands to stop them. “No, no, it’s the 2020s, times have changed. Consent is a thing, and we don’t accept peer pressure.”
It’s refreshing to hear her say this, there was nothing worse than being at a high school party when someone asked you a truth or dared you to do something that terrified you and feeling like there’s no way out.
“I’ll start,” she says, “I’m gonna spin the bottle and whoever it lands on chooses ‘Truth’ or ‘Dare’. The group can then decide on a suitable question or dare for them. That person can then choose to ‘Play’, ‘Switch’, or ‘Drink’—”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Tank says, “this is already way more complicated than when I used to play this.”
“Shut up, Tank,” Pretty Boy says, “you never even went to fucking high school so how did you ever play this shit?”
Everyone laughs and Tank sticks his middle finger up at Pretty Boy.
I’ve definitely had too many drinks because before I can stop myself, I nudge Pretty Boy and say, “Yeah, but he told me he used to play it with your mom, so…”
I’m deafened by the laughter and roars from the guys as they slam their hands on the table, even Diablo can’t completely hide the smile on his face.
Pretty Boy holds up his beer to me. “Well played, darlin’, well played.”
“Anyway,” Ana says, “‘Play’, ‘Switch’, or ‘Drink’, you can either accept the truth or dare, switch to the opposite but you have to play it, or drink some weird concoction which we’ll make. Everyone got it?”
“Yeah!” we shout, then she spins the bottle.
I’d thought that this game would be less terrifying with Ana’s rules, but I’m soon reminded that I’m playing Truth or Dare with a table of people who have basically all fucked each other and know every bad or embarrassing thing each other has ever done.
Everyone so far has readily played their Truth or Dare, with no switches or drinks.
And I’ve certainly seen and heard some stuff tonight that I won’t be forgetting in a while.
Donovan was lucky with his truth and didn’t mind revealing that he’d first had sex when he was sixteen with one of the girls in his neighborhood.
I know he was telling the truth because he told me about it, and how it had confirmed for him that he is definitely, one hundred percent, only interested in men.
Now I’m waiting for the time that the bottle lands on me…
…and here it is.
“Beth!” Everyone roars, and Destiny, who spun the bottle, looks at me and asks, “Truth or Dare?”
The only thing I notice in that moment is the way that Diablo is glaring at me, and I have this fear that if I choose truth when I’m this drunk, he’ll ask me something that will inadvertently lead me to out Donovan, and there is no way in hell I’m risking that.
I look at Destiny and confidently say, “Dare.”
Most of the girls hoot and holler, which isn’t surprising considering that their dares have been sex acts of some kind, some even right at the table.
Oh shit… what have I done?
Luckily, Ana comes to my rescue .
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it, and it’s very on theme,” she says, winking at me. “Seven minutes in heaven, in the supply closet.”
Okay, I can do that, at least it’s in private.
“Fine, who with?” I ask, hoping it will be Donovan, or they’ll let me spin the bottle so it’s left up to chance and I can just get it over with, maybe I’ll be lucky and get El Jefe. Nope, do not go there…
Before Ana can answer, El Jefe speaks up, “Diablo.”
The table is silent, everyone looking between me, El Jefe, and Diablo.
Shit.
If I switch or drink now, everyone will know it’s specifically because of Diablo, and he’ll never let me live that down, but what’s the alternative?
Being locked in a dark closet with him for seven minutes, I might as well have played the truth in the first place.
I’m trying to think of the best way out of this, when Diablo chuckles.
“Come on, you’re crazy, El Jefe. You know Princess Prude would never agree to that.”
Maybe it’s the amount I’ve had to drink, maybe it’s the smug look on his face, or maybe I’m just tired of him calling me that stupid fucking nickname, but before I know what I’m doing, I’m standing and saying, “I’m up for it, if you are?”
Diablo
“Come on, you’re crazy, El Jefe. You know Princess Prude would never agree to that,” I say, looking straight at Elizabeth.
I’m telling myself that I’m giving her an easy out, but in reality, I know I’m baiting her into agreeing to it. If she goes into the closet with me, I can get the proof I need that she’s cheating on my brother and confront her about it once and for all.
I can’t work out if she’s going to back out, or go for it, until she stands and says, “I’m up for it, if you are?”
I glance at Donovan and he’s in as much shock as the others, I hope he knows I’m doing this for him.
“Let’s go, princess.”
I’m aware of some of the girls oohing and aahing around us, and the guys are laughing, but I’m focused on Elizabeth as we make our way to the supply closet.
“Ladies first,” I say, gesturing to the open door.
She scoffs and steps in, but before she has a chance to get settled, Tank pushes me in behind her and locks the door.
It’s pitch black and I can’t see shit, so the first thing I notice is the smell of vanilla filling the air.
She still has her back to me, and her hair is right under my face. I inhale deeply.
“You had better not be fucking smelling me, Diablo,” she says.
I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard her cuss.
“I’m not smelling you, princess; all your fucking hair is in my face, and I can’t breathe.”
“Well if you hadn’t crowded me so quickly, I could have turned around, asshole.”
“Calm down, I was pushed, wasn’t exactly in a rush to get in here with you either.”
She sighs. “Fair enough, do you want me to turn around, so my hair is out of your face at least?”
I can’t lie, the vanilla scent is delicious, and I don’t want to lose it, but the way we’re standing means that her round ass is pressing back against me, and… well, I’m only human, and I don’t want her to feel any potential reaction I might have to her.
“Yeah, turn around,” I say .
She shifts and moves, pressing against me even more. Jesus fucking Christ. She’s taking far too long so without thinking I grab her hips and maneuver her around.
“Get. Your fucking hands. Off me.”
“Don’t start with me,” I say, “I’m only trying to help, you were taking way too fucking long.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had big plans for our seven minutes in hell. Why do you care how long I’m taking?”
“Seven minutes in hell?” I scoff, “That’s exactly what I’d expect from you, Princess Prude.”
I’m slammed back into the door as she shoves me, giving her the space she needs to turn around so we’re face to face… breasts to chest…
Shit, I haven’t thought this whole ‘turning around’ thing through.
“Why the fuck do you call me that?” she asks.
I still can’t see shit, but I can feel her breath on my face, she’s shorter than me, so I know she’s probably having to crane her neck to direct her words to my face. I’m also very aware that I’ve never been this close to her before.
“What?” I ask.
“That stupid nickname. Why do you call me that?”
“Oh really, you wanna go there?”
“Yeah, I wanna go there.”
“Alright, fine, because you’re a fucking princess for starters.”
She huffs and I can imagine the exact face she’s making.
“Okay, you’re going to need to explain that to me because I have no idea what that even means.”
“Look at you,” I say, “look at your perfect little self.”
“Perfect? What the fuck are you even talking about?”
“Come on, you live in your perfect little world, with your perfect little life, just being so fucking perfect all the time. I know you don’t live on campus with Donovan; it’s probably not up to your high standards of living or whatever, and it’s so obvious you think you’re too good for all of us.
The way you stay long enough to study with Donovan but disappear as soon as you can, back to the rich side of town.
You have no fucking clue what real life is like, just like a princess, hidden away in her tower. ”
I stop to take a breath, wondering how she’ll react to my outburst, but she says nothing, her soft breaths are the only thing I can hear.
“And prude?” she eventually asks, “What about that part?”
“Maybe because of the way you’re playing my brother?”
“I’m not playing him,” she says.
“I don’t believe you. The way I see it, he dotes on you, and you give him nothing in return.
I’ve never even seen you kiss him, and he told me you two have never fucked.
So, what are you stringing him along for?
Is he some story you tell your rich friends about back home, how you go slumming with some poor kid from the other side of town. ”
“Fuck you!”
She shoves me back into the door again, this time pushing with her hands on my chest.
“Yeah? Well that’s the other side to the story I’ve heard. Tell me, does Donovan know about all the guys you’re apparently fucking on the weekends, while he’s here with us?”
“What exactly is it you’re accusing me of? Stringing along your brother as my boyfriend but refusing to have sex with him, then fucking other guys on the weekend behind his back. What would even be the point of that? Can you hear how ridiculous you sound?”
I can, now that I’ve said it, it does sound ridiculous.
“So what’s the truth?” I ask .
“The truth, Diablo, is that you don’t know shit about me, and you don’t know shit about my family.
But I don’t care about that, you want to think of me as some rich snobby princess in her ivory tower, go ahead, I don’t care.
But I will tell you this, Donovan is my best friend.
We’re not together, not that it’s any of your business.
And the only reason I’m even telling you that, is so you’ll leave us the fuck alone. ”
“Excuse me? None of my business? That’s my brother you’re talking about—”
“Yeah, I was, and the stuff you just said about your brother, about me ‘slumming it with some poor kid’ was disgusting, and if I ever hear you talk about him like that again—”
“You’ll what?” I interrupt, leaning towards her.
I’ve adjusted to the dark and can make out the glistening of her eyes. The scent of vanilla coming from her is intoxicating, and we’re standing so close I can feel her breasts moving against me as she breathes heavily after her rant.
She hasn’t answered me, but I find myself asking a different question.
“And what about the other guys?”
“What about them?”
“Is that true?”
“Why do you want to know?” she asks.
Shit… why do I want to know?
“I just can’t imagine it,” I say.
She scoffs. “Fuck you, Diablo. Just because you can’t imagine fucking someone like me, it doesn’t mean that other men don’t find me attractive.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, princess. I can imagine there are plenty of guys who wanna fuck you… like I said, you’re fucking perfect.”
We’re so close, and before I can even work out what’s happening her lips are on mine, she’s kissing me.
I’m in shock so don’t react straight away, but she must take my hesitation as a sign I’m not into it and pulls back.
She takes a breath as though she’s about to speak, but I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight into me, claiming her lips with mine.
She lets out a soft moan as I press my hips against hers.
How the fuck am I getting hard already?
Her hands are around my neck, as she lifts onto tiptoes to get closer to me, I move my hands under her ass to lift her, but she must hear the scrape of the lock before I do.
The next thing I know I’m being pushed away and blinded by the light of the clubhouse.
Elizabeth is already out of the closet, and the last I see of her is her back as she races from the main doors and out into the night.