I Dare You

June 17, 2012
By OvercomingDyslexic BRONZE, Northridge, California
OvercomingDyslexic BRONZE, Northridge, California
3 articles 3 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I envy your ability to substitute optimism for reality."
--Temperance Brennan (Bones)

A girl on a bar stool fidgets with her fussy pink skirt, wishing she hadn't given in and picked dare. The music--or noise, rather--was giving her a headache. And who wears pink to heavy metal concerts anyway? It's just asking for someone to drag your skinny butt into a dark alley and, well....

She sighs, staring down at the lukewarm beer she'll never drink and wishes she could disappear.

"Daring fashion choice."

A boy smiles down at her, yelling over the rapid beat of the drums. The girl scowls back, wondering if he's picking on her or trying to pick her up. His dark eyebrows raise in mock innocence and she deliberates between telling him to beep off or playing nice. He is awfully cute, with tousled black hair sticking up in all the wrong places and a goofy grin she's sure is meant to look suave.

"It was a dare," the girl says finally. "I got--"

"Hold on a sec," the boy interrupts, smacking a bill down on the bar. He holds out a hand, wiggling his fingers at her . His smile is serene but his piercing gray eyes dare her to take it.

She does.

The boy leads her outside, dutifully shoving sweaty bodies out of her way like a true gentleman. He lets go of her hand to open the back door for her and she stares at him. Did he honestly expect her to follow a dark--if undeniably handsome--stranger into an equally dark alley in the middle of the night?

But the boy just shrugs, chewing on his silver lip ring. Her eyes go to it immediately and she feels an unfamiliar flutter in the pit of her stomach. He grins at her and swipes his tongue over the ring suggestively.

"After you."

"Oh, get over yourself," the girl snaps, knowing full well he can't hear her over the noise. But she stomps outside after him anyway, nearly breaking her ankle in strappy pink heels.

They sit on the curb outside the smoky club and the boy offers her a cigarette. She looks down at it and her eyes widen to huge blue disks. He laughs.

"Not a smoker then?"

The girl shakes her head, a golden tendril escaping from her perfect bun. She sighs again.
This day just keeps getting better and better.

But the boy just grins back at her and unwraps his cigarette, revealing a slender cylinder of chocolate.

"Good," he says playfully, breaking the candy in half. "I'm not either. And smoker girls kiss like ashtrays."

She rolls her eyes and takes the chocolate he offers her.

"How can someone kiss like an ashtray?" she asks, trying to hide her relief. The boy only smiles back mysteriously, sucking his lip ring into his mouth.

"How can someone wear pink to heavy metal night?" he replies calmly.

The girl groans and slaps her forehead. "It was a dare!"


She scowls but the boy only leans in closer, his leather jacket brushing her pink cashmere sweater. The butterflies in her stomach turns to bats.

"I have another dare for you, pretty girl," the boy whispers in her ear.

"And what's that?" she asks haughtily, ignoring the shiver his husky voice sends up her spine.

"Kiss me."

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