Truth or Dare (10 page)

Marley turned and walked back to us. “Done,” she announced.

♥  ♥  ♥

All morning, I felt terrible for Graydon. It wasn't Marley's fault that the whole thing was so awkward; really, she didn't have much of a choice about how it went. But I could tell Graydon had been confused, and even worse, embarrassed in front of his friends, which
seemed unfair. Truth or Dare was
our
game, and I thought it was wrong to hurt people who weren't even playing, who didn't understand the rules. Plus, Graydon thought Marley was making fun of him, and that was also unfair to Marley.

So before science started I went over to Graydon.

“Can we talk in private?” I asked. “In the hall?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why, Lia? You want to borrow my homework?”

“No,” I said. “I mean, if you
want
to share it with me, that would be extremely nice, but it's not
why
I want to talk to you.”

He shrugged. I followed him out the door.

“So what's up?” he asked, staring at my knees.

“Um, about that poem Marley gave you,” I said. “It wasn't her idea; she didn't
mean
to make fun of you. That wasn't the point.”

“There was a point?”

“Well, in a way. It was a sort of prank.”

His forehead crumpled. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Not by her,” I added. “By other people. Who were playing a game.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah,” I said, agreeing with his sarcasm. “It really wasn't.”

He squinted at me. “And were
you
playing this not-fun game?”

“Me?”

He nodded.

This was not going well. I could feel my face on fire. “Yes, but—”

“Thanks for the explanation, Lia.” He pushed the door open and left me standing in the hall.

AT LUNCH, ABI WAS FURIOUS.

“Mak, who said you and Lia could approve the poem all by yourselves?” she demanded.

Makayla sighed sarcastically. “Sorry we didn't ask for your permission, Abi.”

“It's not about permission! This is a game we're playing together. All of us. That includes Jules too.”

“I know who's playing,” Makayla snapped. “But
you
were the one who said Marley had to complete the dare by lunchtime today, right? So when exactly was she supposed
to give the poem to Graydon? They're not even in any of the same classes. So it
had
to be in homeroom, right?”

It always amazed me how Makayla stood up to Abi. Nobody else did, and usually Makayla didn't; but when she did, Abi would get all quaky. Her lips would tremble, her face would flush, and she'd look like she was fighting back tears.

“I can't believe you're saying that,” she told Makayla. “Don't you care about our feelings?”

Makayla's shoulders rose. Her voice got louder. “Who said
anything
about not caring? Or about
feelings
? Why are you even bringing that
up
?”

“I don't know, Mak. The way you said all that just now—”

“Look, Abi, just because I don't agree with you and think of something on my
own
doesn't mean I don't care about your feelings. Everything isn't always about
you
and your
feelings
!” Makayla shook her head; her thick ponytail whipped back and forth. “Anyhow, I need to check something about swim practice today. See you guys later.” She got up and walked over to the swim team table to sit with her teammates, Sarita and Morgan.

“Well,” Jules commented.

I stirred my strawberry yogurt like it needed total concentration. After I ate a couple of spoonfuls, I looked up.
“Can I say something? I think if we're going to keep playing Truth or Dare, we should make some definite rules. Like, do we need everybody to witness a dare?”

“I vote yes,” Jules said. Abi, whose face still looked rumpled and red, barely nodded.

“Although that's not fair to Marley,” I said. “It's not
her
fault that she did the dare in front of just Mak and me.”

“Fine,” Abi said. She took a shaky breath. “We'll say that Marley's dare counted. But from now on everybody in the game has to witness every dare. Although maybe Mak doesn't even want to play.”

“What makes you say that?” Marley asked.

“I mean,
look
at her,” Abi grumbled. “She seems perfectly happy with her other friends.”

We all looked at Mak, who was laughing loudly with Sarita.

“Can we agree on one other thing?” I said quickly, before the conversation turned into Let's All Talk Behind Makayla's Back. “Can we have a rule that everything we say in the game—all the truths—are private? And we don't tell anybody else?”

Marley bit the crust off her grilled cheese sandwich. “Who would we tell?”

“I don't know,” I said, pretending to think. “Like maybe someone's parent?”

“Are you saying somebody
told
somebody?” Abi's eyes flashed at me. By then she was looking like normal Abi, leader Abi.

I swallowed some more yogurt. “I just think we need a rule. From now on.”

“Okay with me,” Marley said.

“Whatever,” Abi said, crumpling her napkin. “You know what, Lia? I don't even want to talk about this game anymore. I don't care if we never even play it again.”

♥  ♥  ♥

The funny thing was, by dismissal Abi and Mak were best friends again. Maybe they'd talked it over during sixth-period art, or during Spanish, which they had together at the end of the day. All I knew for sure was that they'd come up with a joke they both found hilarious—calling people “bub.”

Like when Mak and Abi saw Graydon get on the bus, they called out, “Bye, bub! See you tomorrow, bub!” and practically fell over, laughing. And when Mr. Halloran walked past us to get his car, Abi shouted, “Have a nice afternoon!” When he waved back, she and Mak muttered, “Bub,” and went into hysterics.

“What's so funny about the word ‘bub'?” Marley asked me.

I shrugged. “No clue. But it's better than ‘dahling.' And at least they're not fighting.”

The five of us walked a few short blocks to the Maplebrook Diner, the way we sometimes did after school. We had about an hour, because Marley had a tutor coming to her house, Jules had to go to the dentist, and Mak had a swim practice at the YMCA pool. But there was enough time for us to order our usual—milk shakes for everybody except Abi, who always had two scoops of cookie dough ice cream with butterscotch syrup, whipped cream, and gummy teddy bears on top.

I couldn't help wondering if we'd play Truth or Dare. Not that I wanted to; after the Graydon incident, the whole game had kind of soured for me, really. But—here's the weird thing—a teeny part of me felt disappointed
not
to play. I think I missed telling my made-up story, watching my friends hang on every detail. I missed the surprise in their faces:
“Lia? All
that
happened to nice little
you?”

The waitress brought us our orders. Her name was Maggie, and she hated us, maybe because we always made too much noise and one time forgot to leave a tip. We waited for her to walk away from our table, and then Abi stuck out her tongue behind Maggie's back.

“Great look, bub,” Mak told Abi, laughing. “I think you should do a selfie like that and send it to Nick.”

“Shut up, bub,” Abi said. “
You
send him a selfie.”

Marley caught my eye.
Bub
, she mouthed.

“No, I'm serious,” Mak insisted. She took a giant sip of her mint chocolate chip shake. “Hey, bub, I have a question: If Nick asked you out, would you go?”

Abi snorted. “Are you insane, Mak? He's, like, fifteen. My mom would have a heart attack.”

“So the answer is no?”

“It's a stupid question,” Marley declared. “Because there's no way a fifteen-year-old boy would ask out a twelve-year-old girl. If he did, he'd be a creepy loser, so why would you
want
to go out with him, anyway?”

Everyone stared at Marley.

“Well, Lia went out with Tanner this summer,” Mak argued. She cocked her head at me. “And didn't you say he was in high school?”

“Well, going
into
high school,” I said. “As a freshman. But we didn't
go out.
”

“You didn't?” Jules asked. “It sounded like you did.”

“No, we just walked on the beach together. A few times.”

“And kissed,” Jules reminded me.

“Yeah, well.” I shrugged. “Then I found out he had this other girlfriend. Named Logan. So I dumped him.”

“He was seeing you behind Logan's back?” Jules looked outraged.

“Sort of. Although truthfully, she was pretty nasty, so . . .”

“Even if she was,” Jules said. “Cheating is just wrong. Tanner totally deserved to be dumped.”

I slurped some chocolate milk shake. “I know, right?”

“Was he really upset?” Mak asked me. “When you dumped him?”

“Well, he was confused. I didn't tell him I knew about Logan.”

“Why not?” Jules asked. “If it was me, I would've made sure he knew
exactly
why. Anyway, the truth is always bound to come out, right?”

She said it like it was a thing she'd read somewhere.

I was suddenly aware of Abi's eyes glaring at me. Maybe she didn't like it that we were talking about my fake boyfriend instead of hers.

I sipped my chocolate shake and rolled the corner of my napkin.

“Speaking of truth,” Abi said slowly. “Can we talk about something, Lia?”

“Sure,” I said.

“I don't know how to say this,” Abi said, glancing at Jules and Mak. “But we're all best friends, right? So we're supposed to trust each other and be honest with each other. Not just when we're playing a game.”

My heart thudded. Was she about to expose all my lies? “Yeah, of course,” I said quickly.

“And lately I've been thinking about this a
lot,
Lia: You know, you've never talked to us about when your mom died. I don't mean about the accident—I mean, how it felt. To you.”

Something passed over me then, like a shiver. I couldn't speak; I could feel my heart banging against my chest.

“What?” Marley snapped. “Are you
joking,
Abi?”

“No, Marley. I'm really not.”

“But that's an awful thing to make Lia talk about!”

“Why?” Abi asked. “We're her
best friends
, right? If she can't talk about it with us, who can she talk to?”

“Yeah, I know, but—”

Abi ignored Marley. “We're only asking because we care about you, Lia. And you never even mention it, you know?”

Nobody spoke. They were all looking at me, including Marley, who was shaking her head like,
Don't do it.

I could have refused. Really, I wanted to refuse. Even now, the Accident hurt my stomach to talk about, and I didn't trust myself not to cry.

But I knew Abi was testing me. If I refused to answer, I would fail. In front of everyone. All of my friends.

Besides, how could you pick some truths to share and keep others to yourself? What were the rules for that? Maybe there weren't any.

“It's okay,” I said to Marley. “I don't mind.”

She shrugged.

So then I told my friends about the minutes and days after the Accident, how I kept wondering about the stupid guy's stupid phone conversation and how he and his wife showed up at our house with the waxy cookies.

Also how Dad pitied him, but Nate and I thought he was a monster.

How after he left, I threw away my phone.

How we felt grateful and shocked and embarrassed by all the food people kept bringing us.

But mostly how sad we felt about Mom. And still did.

Jules put her arm around my shoulder. “Poor Lia,” she said. Her eyelashes were wet.

“Can I tell you guys another truth?” I said. “I hate the ‘Poor Lia' stuff. I'm really okay.”

“We know you are,” Mak said. “But thanks for telling us all that.”

She got up from the table to hug me, and so did Abi. Once again I felt like limp lettuce inside a sandwich. But also—and this surprised me—glad I finally told those things to my friends.

Even though Marley didn't say a word to me and left the diner without finishing her milk shake.