Truth or Dare
The whole week leading up to the party for Taylor I’m a nervous wreck. I try my best to keep that feeling bottled up inside, though. The only person who really knows is Carrick, and as always, he’s not saying a word. The only way I can deal with this is by putting on a fake happy face and throwing myself into the party planning. I might not be a huge party animal, but when Carrick and Austin are around, it’s easy to let myself be swept up by the current and just go along with whatever raucous plans they’ve got.
And their plans for this party are definitely raucous, even though they really don’t know that many people here in Tulsa. The guest list for the party is pretty short – just the two bands, even though Ike has already threatened to bow out early for daddy duties, a few of our employees who are more like friends, and a handful of other guys Taylor and I know. I think the supply of alcohol that Austin’s bought would actually make a longer list than the guest list.
Somehow, though, the party ends up way bigger than I could have expected. This huge old house fills up with people in no time, leaving me feeling more than a little suffocated. For whatever reason, the house has two kitchens – one upstairs and one downstairs. Most of the party guests are staying downstairs, so I’ve built myself a little nest in the upstairs kitchen with a plate full of brownies and a white Russian. It’s not normally my drink of choice, but I can’t argue with Austin’s drink mixing abilities.
I’m perfectly content to sit up there forever, getting just a little fucked up, but of course Carrick won’t let that happen. I know before I even see him that the footsteps shuffling down the hallway belong to him. He leans on the door frame and just stares at me, his eyes full of sympathy that I really wish I didn’t deserve.
“Throwing your own little pity party up here?” He asks, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
I don’t have it in me to return the smirk, so I just stare down at my drink. I’m not thirsty at all, but I know I’m still too sober for this conversation. I pick the glass up and tilt it back, letting the sickly sweet mixture slide down my throat. Definitely not a drink I would have chosen for myself, but when it’s going down this fast, I don’t even mind the unmistakable coffee flavor. With the glass a bit lighter, I finally glance back up at Carrick and find that he’s a few steps closer than I remembered.
“What are you doing up here?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Didn’t see you downstairs. Thought I would come make sure you were okay.”
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I reply, the words coming out with a lot more venom than I intend. I immediately regret saying it, but Carrick doesn’t even flinch.
“I know I don’t. And I’m not,” he replies, then turns to the cabinets and begins fishing through them. Somehow, there’s even more liquor lurking up here, hidden from the rest of the party. He pulls out two shot glasses and fills them with tequila. “I’m just making you another drink. Helping you relax. If you want.”
I consider his words for a moment, finally coming to the conclusion that it really can’t hurt to have another drink or two. I can be an angry drunk sometimes, but the half a plate of brownies I’ve scarfed down might balance that out. Maybe I can actually have fun tonight. With a small nod, I gulp down the last of the white Russian, slamming the cup down decisively and standing up.
“That’s more like it,” Carrick says with another smirk, this one stretching all the way across his face. He hands me a shot glass, keeping the other one for himself.
I match his smirk, or at least I try to, and we clink the shot glasses together. I can feel his eyes on me as I tip mine back and swallow the tequila in one gulp. It burns like hell, and I’m suddenly reminded that I don’t like tequila at all, but it’s too late to worry about that. When I look back up, Carrick’s glass is empty too.
“Feel better now?” He asks, wiping a stray drop of tequila from the corner of his lips.
I wince a little. “Sort of. I’ll feel even better after another shot.”
He laughs, already grabbing the bottle to pour a second round. We clink our glasses together again, then tilt our heads back in unison. The second shot goes down much easier, a wonderful warmth beginning to spread through my body. I know my confidence will soon pass, but for the moment I feel like I could take on anything.
Carrick grabs the shot glass out of my hand and slams them both down onto the table. “Okay. You ready to join the party now?”
“Yeah, I think I am,” I reply. The words taste funny in my mouth, and I know I have the alcohol to blame for that. It might not have been a lot, but it went down my throat pretty quickly.
Possibly too quickly, I decide, as I take the first few steps out of the kitchen. I can feel myself pitching to the side a little and I try to casually lean against the door frame in the hopes of playing it off. I can hear Carrick snickering behind me, so I know I haven’t succeeded. He places a reassuring hand on my back and gives me a little nudge into the hallway and toward the stairs. That helps me get my sea legs, as it were, and soon we’re walking down the stairs together.
I don’t know what I’m going to find when we get downstairs. I can already hear voices shouting and music pumping, even through the slight buffer of this weird, semi-enclosed stairwell. I shove open the door at the bottom, possibly a bit harder than I needed to, and take the last few steps into the living room.
“I dare you to kiss the next person who walks in!” A voice that I vaguely recognize as Austin’s says just as I step across the threshold.
Everyone is staring at me, their mouths wide open. Finally, Austin breaks out into loud cackles, but everyone else is still staring wordlessly. Carrick collides with my back, his hand against my shoulder blade knocking me forward a bit as I try to figure out exactly what’s going on.
Finally, Austin manages to stifle his laughter and adopt an almost serious face. “Taylor, man – you don’t have to do it. We can come up with another dare.”
That’s the missing puzzle piece I was looking for. I realize now that I’ve walked right into a game of truth or dare at possibly the worst possible moment. Or the best possible moment. I’m not really sure. I’ve been dying for this moment for years, except in my imagination Taylor kissed me of his own volition. From the shocked look on his face, I’m certain he’s going to take Austin up on the offer for another dare.
“No, I’ll do it,” Taylor says, his voice shaking a little. “A dare’s a dare, right?”
Everyone’s heads snap back around to Taylor, but I’m certain that of everyone, I’m the one most in disbelief. Carrick rubs my back a little, and I realize that Austin is staring at me now. He’s waiting for some kind of answer, I guess. I clear my throat, hoping like hell I can manage to sound casual. “Yeah, a dare’s a dare.”
Taylor catches my eyes and I think he sees my nervousness. He looks back at Austin and gives him a patented Taylor Hanson smile, the kind to which no one can say no. “How about we do this in the other room? Not in front of all you pervs.”
“No way, man,” Austin replies, shaking his head. “If you’re gonna chicken out, just chicken out in front of the whole room.”
Carrick takes a step forward. “Well, what if they have a witness?”
“That works,” Austin says, then gives Taylor a nudge. “Go on. Do it.”
I glance back and forth between Carrick and Taylor, and once again I’m struck by realization. Carrick just volunteered to watch Taylor kiss me. I suddenly regret letting him convince me to down those shots and join the party. None of this would have happened if I had just stayed up there in my own little world, but I had to let Carrick convince me that things would be okay.
He’s still rubbing my back as we walk down the hallway toward the empty bedroom they’re using to store instruments. It’s reassuring. With Carrick by my side, maybe things will be okay. Even if those things now include Taylor kissing me as a dare. When I remember again that it’s just a dare, not his own choice, I start feeling a little ill and I almost can’t bring myself to walk into the room. Of course Taylor wouldn’t do this if he hadn’t been pushed to do it. Sure, he flirts with me. But he flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean he wants to kiss me. If he did, surely he would have done it a long time ago and put me out of my misery.
Someone clears his throat and I realize I’m just staring off into space, while Taylor stands in front of me, his eyes still wide. Carrick is leaning against the closed door, his face unreadable. If he weren’t in my way, I think I’d run back out. And I could totally take him in a fight, but maybe not with the way my head is spinning – or is that the room?
I glance back at Taylor and his face softens a little bit. He clears his throat again. “Zac, you don’t have to do this. We can just tell them we did. It’s just a stupid dare.”
I shrug. I don’t trust myself to use words right now. Anything I might possibly say would only reveal how badly I’m dying to feel Taylor’s lips on mine. I can still remember the way they felt all those years ago. A little chapped, but wonderful. He tasted like bubble gum.
Taylor licks his lips and it makes me shiver. I hope he doesn’t notice, but I think he does. He glances down at my lips and steps in a little closer. This time I can’t even try to hold back the shiver or hope he doesn’t see it. It is what it is, and it’s too late to go back. He grabs my upper arm, fingernails digging into both shirt and skin, like he’s trying to keep me from running away or punching him or god knows what.
But I don’t move an inch. His eyes fall closed as he moves in closer to me, but I keep mine open. I need to see this to believe it’s really happening. When our lips finally touch, my legs nearly give out from underneath me. He tastes more like vodka than bubble gum, but I don’t care. At first, neither one of us moves at all. We just stand there, lips pressed awkwardly together. A low moan falls on my ears and I honestly don’t know which of us it came from.
That’s the breaking point, though, whoever it was. Taylor grabs my arms even tighter, crushing me against his chest, and shoves his tongue past my lips. I can’t do anything but let my mouth fall open, allowing him entry. His tongue is rough with me, not exploring my mouth, just devouring it. Recovering what little strength I have left, I grab fistfuls of his hair and shove my tongue back against his, fighting him for dominance.
It’s over just as quickly and violently as it began. He lets go of my shirt with such force that I stumble backwards, my shaking hands falling from his hair. My lips are trembling so hard that I don’t think I could say a word even if I could think of a single one worth saying.
Taylor’s face is completely blank, his eyes lacking their usual twinkle. His mouth twitches a little, then falls into a straight line. “Well. A dare’s a dare.”
He turns his back to me before I can reply. But I’m still empty of words appropriate for this situation. Carrick slides out of Taylor’s way quickly, and Taylor’s out of the room in mere seconds. God only knows what he’s going to tell the crowd when he returns to their sordid little game. In my drunken, stunned state, I suddenly remember that Carrick is still there and has witnessed the entire wonderful, awful scene.
I glance at him, and he’s pressed against the wall like someone’s holding him against it, his eyes wide open. When I catch his eye, his expression falls back into the familiar look of pity, but there’s something else behind his eyes that I can’t place. My shaking legs somehow carry me across the room until I’m standing right next to Carrick. Without a word, he reaches out an arm to rub my back. I slam my head into the wall in front of me, hoping for a concussion. I don’t think I would even mind the memory loss.