afternoon soak. They’re clucking quietly to each other, so the only words I can make out are “such a ruckus” and “act like ladies and gentlemen.” I snort, wondering when Demi last acted like a lady. Probably around the same time Russ acted like a gentleman, and by that, I mean never.
Lenny moves into a corner, and Demi immediately slides in next to him. Missy gasps and gives a tiny hop when she sits down right in front of one of the powerful jets. Hillary takes a spot by herself off to the side, as if Demi’s perkiness is a disease that’s catching. Russ settles in next to Huck, who gives him a healthy side eye before scooting a little bit away.
I take a seat on the ledge and dip my toes into the warm, bubbling water, partly because hot tubs skeeve me out (seriously, it’s like all those germs and skin particles are cooking in there, making some kind of disease-filled stew. No thank you!), and partly because I don’t want to take Lenny’s jacket off. I love the way it smells like whatever detergent his mom uses and his woodsy deodorant.
Once again, I look up to see Demi wrinkling her nose in my direction as if to say
Who invited you?
But Lenny ducks under the water next to her and emerges with his hair slicked back, immediately distracting Demi from the fact that there are band kids at her hot tub party.
“Truth-or-dare time!” she chirps. But her eyes are laser focused on mine, an eyebrow raised.
My stomach drops. I’ve played T-or-D plenty of times, but always with my friends, who I know won’t judge or make me do anything that could seriously risk my life or my dignity. At band camp last summer, Hillary dared me to do a lap around the practice field in my underwear (which I totally did). But one look at Demi tells me a dare like that is just a warm-up for her. I’m having flashbacks to our childhood games of Trivial Pursuit, where Demi was completely brazen about “accidentally” taking a peek at the answer on the back of the card. There’s no
way
a ten-year-old knows the date of the Peloponnesian War.
“I was thinking maybe you might want a friendly wager, Liza,” Demi says, sugar dripping from every syllable. I recognize the voice as the one she used to use with our ballet teacher when she wanted an extra few bars of a solo. “Winner gets the loser’s practice time?”
I pause. “How can you
win
at truth-or-dare?”
“Whoever fails to complete their dare or spill their truth loses,” she says, her voice light while her brain is already concocting a winning strategy. I can’t even imagine what that might look like, but the chance to win extra practice time is exactly what we need, especially after my epic meltdown today. And if we can win it while stealing some of the Athenas’? All the better. So against my better judgment (and deep history of losing to Demi at board games), I agree.
“I’m in,” I say, leaning back against the warm bricks surrounding the hot tub.
Before Demi can speak again, Huck turns to Russ, one eyebrow raised.
“Russ,” he says. “Truth or dare?”
Russ hesitates for a moment, glancing around the hot tub as if weighing the risks of either option. His eyes pass over me, almost stopping for a moment, before moving on to Demi and Missy. “Truth,” he says finally.
“Boooo!” Missy says, giving him a thumbs-down, but Huck’s face glows with a wicked expression.
“Why did you dump Demi?” Huck asks.
Russ’s face goes white, and Missy gasps.
Demi splashes Huck. “As if!
I
dumped
him,
” she says. She gives Russ a stern look. He glances at her, then back at Huck.
“She’s right,” he adds, and shrugs. A momentary chill passes through the hot tub. Everyone is suddenly very interested in the jets or clouds or readjusting their suits. I expect to see Demi glaring at Russ, or even Huck, but when I look over, she’s giving
me
the evil eye. What did
I
do?
After a moment of silence, Russ turns back to Missy.
“Okay, Missy, truth or
Lenny moves into a corner, and Demi immediately slides in next to him. Missy gasps and gives a tiny hop when she sits down right in front of one of the powerful jets. Hillary takes a spot by herself off to the side, as if Demi’s perkiness is a disease that’s catching. Russ settles in next to Huck, who gives him a healthy side eye before scooting a little bit away.
I take a seat on the ledge and dip my toes into the warm, bubbling water, partly because hot tubs skeeve me out (seriously, it’s like all those germs and skin particles are cooking in there, making some kind of disease-filled stew. No thank you!), and partly because I don’t want to take Lenny’s jacket off. I love the way it smells like whatever detergent his mom uses and his woodsy deodorant.
Once again, I look up to see Demi wrinkling her nose in my direction as if to say
Who invited you?
But Lenny ducks under the water next to her and emerges with his hair slicked back, immediately distracting Demi from the fact that there are band kids at her hot tub party.
“Truth-or-dare time!” she chirps. But her eyes are laser focused on mine, an eyebrow raised.
My stomach drops. I’ve played T-or-D plenty of times, but always with my friends, who I know won’t judge or make me do anything that could seriously risk my life or my dignity. At band camp last summer, Hillary dared me to do a lap around the practice field in my underwear (which I totally did). But one look at Demi tells me a dare like that is just a warm-up for her. I’m having flashbacks to our childhood games of Trivial Pursuit, where Demi was completely brazen about “accidentally” taking a peek at the answer on the back of the card. There’s no
way
a ten-year-old knows the date of the Peloponnesian War.
“I was thinking maybe you might want a friendly wager, Liza,” Demi says, sugar dripping from every syllable. I recognize the voice as the one she used to use with our ballet teacher when she wanted an extra few bars of a solo. “Winner gets the loser’s practice time?”
I pause. “How can you
win
at truth-or-dare?”
“Whoever fails to complete their dare or spill their truth loses,” she says, her voice light while her brain is already concocting a winning strategy. I can’t even imagine what that might look like, but the chance to win extra practice time is exactly what we need, especially after my epic meltdown today. And if we can win it while stealing some of the Athenas’? All the better. So against my better judgment (and deep history of losing to Demi at board games), I agree.
“I’m in,” I say, leaning back against the warm bricks surrounding the hot tub.
Before Demi can speak again, Huck turns to Russ, one eyebrow raised.
“Russ,” he says. “Truth or dare?”
Russ hesitates for a moment, glancing around the hot tub as if weighing the risks of either option. His eyes pass over me, almost stopping for a moment, before moving on to Demi and Missy. “Truth,” he says finally.
“Boooo!” Missy says, giving him a thumbs-down, but Huck’s face glows with a wicked expression.
“Why did you dump Demi?” Huck asks.
Russ’s face goes white, and Missy gasps.
Demi splashes Huck. “As if!
I
dumped
him,
” she says. She gives Russ a stern look. He glances at her, then back at Huck.
“She’s right,” he adds, and shrugs. A momentary chill passes through the hot tub. Everyone is suddenly very interested in the jets or clouds or readjusting their suits. I expect to see Demi glaring at Russ, or even Huck, but when I look over, she’s giving
me
the evil eye. What did
I
do?
After a moment of silence, Russ turns back to Missy.
“Okay, Missy, truth or
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