The Price of a Dare

The music hit her before she even got to the porch. Loud, messy, full of bass. Nicole shoved her hands in her pockets and walked up without thinking too hard about it.

The front door was open. People stood around smoking, laughing, bumping into each other like it was normal. Inside looked worse—too many kids, too much noise, and that smell of cheap cologne mixed with something burnt.

She stepped in anyway.

Angel was the first face she saw. Leaning against the wall, holding a red cup, eyes rolling the second she noticed Nicole.

"Well look who dragged her attitude out the house," Angel said, fake smiling.

Nicole gave her a bored look. "I didn't come to talk to you."

"Good," Angel said, sipping her drink. "We're on the same page."

Nicole walked past her, heading for the kitchen. She didn't know why she came here. Maybe she was bored. Maybe she just didn't want to be home.

She grabbed a bottle of water from the counter. People moved around her like she wasn't even there. That was fine.

Then she saw Sky.

Across the room. Hoodie tied around her waist. Laughing with some guy Nicole didn't know. Her hair was loose, messy in that way that looked like she tried but not really. She looked different tonight.

Their eyes met.

It was fast. Just a second. But Nicole felt it. That weird pause. Like something unspoken passed between them.

Nicole looked away first. Always did.

She leaned against the fridge, twisting the cap off her water.

She wasn't here to feel things. She was here to forget them.

But her heart had other plans.

"Didn't think you'd show."

Sky's voice slid in beside her like it had every right to be there.

Nicole didn't turn. "Didn't think you'd care."

"I don't," Sky said. "Just surprised."

Nicole took a sip of water, eyes on the mess in front of her—someone trying to dance on the table, beer spilling, shoes sticking to the floor. "This party's lame."

Sky leaned against the counter, close enough for Nicole to smell her perfume—soft, warm, nothing like the rest of her. "Then why'd you come?"

Nicole shrugged. "Wasn't planning to. Just didn't feel like being home."

Sky glanced at her. "You okay?"

Nicole hated that question. "Do I look okay?"

"Actually," Sky said, smirking, "you look like you'd fight a nun for looking at you wrong."

Nicole cracked a smile. Just a small one. "Depends. Was she looking at me wrong?"

Sky grinned and bumped her shoulder lightly. "You're something else."

Before Nicole could answer, Angel walked by—loud on purpose.

"Didn't realize this was a couples party," she said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "Guess I missed the memo."

Angel held her drink like a prop. "I just didn't know tomboys were your type, Sky."

Sky's jaw tensed. "Shut up, Angel."

Angel's smile dropped.

Someone yelled from the living room, and the music jumped a few levels louder.

Sky leaned in closer to Nicole, voice low. "She's drunk. Ignore her."

Sky reached for Nicole's hand, just for a second—barely a touch. "Come on. Let's go somewhere quiet."

Nicole hesitated, but nodded.

They left the kitchen, shoulders brushing, and slipped through the hallway toward the backyard.

Behind them, Angel's eyes followed. And they weren't kind.

The backyard buzzed with low music and half-drunk laughter. The fire pit popped, sending tiny sparks into the sky. Nicole sat on the edge of a plastic lounge chair, hoodie sleeves pushed up, half-watching a group play beer pong.

Sky dropped down beside her with two red cups. "You look like you're ready to call the cops on us."

Nicole rolled her eyes but took the cup. She sniffed it. "Smells like regret."

Sky nudged her again. "Alright. Let's lighten it up. Truth or dare?"

Nicole scoffed. "We're not in seventh grade."

Sky grinned. "Fine. I'll go first. Truth: Have you ever liked someone you weren't supposed to?"

Nicole shot her a look.

Sky only smiled. "Your turn. Dare me."

Before Nicole could answer, a voice cut through the night.

"There you are," Angel said, appearing with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She held a red cup in her hand and walked straight to Sky.

"Brought you something," Angel said sweetly, holding the cup out. "To make up for being a bitch."

Sky looked at the cup. Then at Angel. "That was fast. A whole apology in less than twenty-four hours?"

Angel shrugged, all teeth. "Growth. Tequila and something, Not roofied, if that's what you're thinking."

Nicole didn't say a word. But her silence said enough.

Angel turned to her, smile stretched tight. "Hi, Nicole."

Nicole just stared.

Angel chuckled awkwardly. "Right. Still mad."

Sky rolled her eyes. "She's always like this."

"Must be exhausting," Angel said under her breath. She handed Sky the cup, all sugary sweet again. "Drink it before it gets warm."

Sky looked at the drink. Then at Nicole. "Wanna try it first?"

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "You scared?"

Sky smirked. "Nah. Just bored."

Angel turned and walked off without another word. Sky handed her the red cup. "Drink with me."

Nicole didn't reach for it. "Why?"

"Because," Sky said, shrugging, "you look like you're about to punch somebody. And it's a party. You're supposed to loosen up."

Nicole folded her arms. "You loosen up. I'm good."

Sky took a sip, licking the edge of the cup like it tasted expensive. "Is this because of Angel?"

Nicole scoffed. "Please."

"Or your dad and his crunchy yoga girlfriend?" Sky tilted her head. "Or is this just who you are now? Miss Icebox?"

Nicole turned, jaw locked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sky took a step closer, voice low but sharp. "It means you walk around like you're above it all, but I see it. The cracks. The way you look like you're holding your breath all the time."

Nicole stared at her. "You don't know me."

Sky smiled faintly. "I could."

Nicole snatched the cup from her hand. "You talk too much."

Without another word, Nicole raised the cup and downed it in two long swallows. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and shoved the cup back into Sky's chest.

"There. Happy?"

Sky looked surprised. "Didn't think you'd actually do it."

She turned away, walking off toward the edge of the yard. Her chest felt tight, but not from the drink. It was everything else—the stares, the pressure, the pretending.

Back near the house, Angel watched from the shadows, a smirk dancing on her lips as she leaned against the doorway.

Nicole stood back, arms crossed tight, watching from the edge of the yard.

Everyone else was laughing—dancing, drinking, talking loud over the music. Sky was in the middle of it all, tossing her head back, radiant under the dim backyard lights like the party lived for her.

But Nicole didn't feel alive. She didn't even feel like she was in her own body.

Her skin was hot. Too hot. Her shirt stuck to her back like glue, and she could feel sweat sliding down her spine even though the night air was freezing. Her throat was dry, her heart off-beat, and a weird, uncomfortable heat kept pulsing through her chest like a slow alarm bell.

"Hey, Nicole!"

Sky's voice broke through the fog. She waved her over, smiling like everything was normal.

Nicole hesitated. Her legs didn't.

She tried to move—just one step—but her balance betrayed her. Her knees wobbled. Her vision tipped. She took two more steps like a dare to herself, but the third—

She nearly collapsed.

A random guy caught her by the arm, steadying her with a grunt.

"Watch it," he snapped, laughing with his girlfriend. "Damn, if you can't handle a drink, should've stayed home with grandma."

Nicole yanked her arm free, head down, shame burning hotter than her skin. Her body was screaming, but her pride was louder.

Sky was already there.

"Hey… you good?" she asked, worry all over her face.

Nicole straightened, even though the ground still swayed. "Yeah. I'm good."

Sky squinted. "You sure? You don't look—"

"I said I'm fine!" Nicole barked, voice too loud, too sharp.

Everything went still for a second.

Sky froze. Hurt flickered across her face.

Nicole didn't wait. She turned and walked away fast—before the sting in her eyes became tears, or the fear in her chest cracked wide open.

Though Nicole tried to look fine, she knew she wasn't.

She told herself she was okay. That she could walk it off. But her vision was already slipping. Everyone looked like shadows. Her legs felt like rubber, barely holding her up. She didn't know where she was going—she just wanted out. She wasn't about to break down in front of half the school.

The music was louder now. That meant she'd made it inside. She just needed a door. A quiet corner. A breath.

She pushed through the crowd of half-drunk bodies until a hand grabbed her arm.

"Hey, Nicole… are you okay?"

Angel's voice.

Nicole blinked. "Angel?" She tried to pull away. "Let go of me."

"I don't think you're okay," Angel said, too calmly. "Let me help you wash this off."

"Let… go…" Nicole tried again, but her knees buckled. Angel caught her before she hit the floor.

"Don't make this hard, Nicole. I'm here to help you."

"Why?" Nicole mumbled. Her voice didn't even sound like hers anymore.

Angel didn't answer. She just wrapped an arm around her and led her down the hallway.

"You don't want to embarrass yourself," Angel said quietly.l

Nicole was barely present. Her thoughts were scrambled, her body heavy. But she didn't fight. She let Angel lead her into the bathroom. Her back slid down the cold wall as she sat on the floor, head spinning.

"I'll be right back. Just stay here, okay? I'll get you a towel," Angel said softly.

Nicole gave a lazy nod, her head rolling to the side. Her cheeks were hot, her body shaky. Embarrassment flooded through her, but her eyes were too heavy to cry. She just wanted sleep.

Then the door opened.

Nicole barely opened her eyes, assuming it was Angel.

"You're back early," she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

No response.

Just footsteps.

Then a voice.

"Hey, Nicole."

Her eyes snapped open. That wasn't Angel.

It was Marcos. Smiling.

"You still look tough now," he said, tilting his head like he was curious.

Nicole's stomach twisted.

"Get out, moron," she slurred, trying to push herself upright.

Marcos didn't move.

"No," he said quietly. "The fun hasn't started yet."

Marcos crouched beside her, brushing a piece of hair from Nicole's face. She flinched, barely able to open her eyes. Her body felt foreign—heavy and slow, like it didn't belong to her.

"This is your punishment, Nicole," he whispered. "Mouth off to me again, and next time, it won't be this easy."

The door creaked open.

Angel stood there, frozen.

Marcos didn't even turn. "Get out."

She blinked. "Wait—what are you doing?"

"You did your part," he said, still staring at Nicole. "Now go."

"I thought this was just a joke. Just to scare her…"

Marcos finally turned, his voice sharper. "Out. Now."

Angel hesitated. Nicole's head lolled to the side, her eyes barely open, her lips parted in confusion. She wasn't all there—but she wasn't completely gone either.

Angel swallowed hard, then backed out of the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind her.

Nicole's breathing quickened. Her heart pounded even through the fog. Somewhere deep inside, panic flared—but her limbs wouldn't respond. Not the way she wanted.

She felt Marcos move closer again. His breath touched her cheek.

"I'm not stupid," she mumbled, trying to sit up straighter, but everything felt off. Her hands felt too soft, her chest too tight.

"I didn't say you were," he replied, watching her. "But you're definitely… different tonight."

She scoffed, weakly. "What, because I'm not shoving you into a locker?"

His smile was crooked, dangerous. "Because you're looking at me like you want to rip my shirt off and throw me against the wall"

Nicole's eyes widened — not in anger, but in panic. Because he wasn't wrong. And that scared her more than anything.

"I don't…" she started, shaking her head, her hands trembling slightly. "I don't feel like myself."

Marcos's gaze darkened. He leaned in, slow, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "That's because you're not fighting anymore. You're finally just… feeling."

Nicole's breath hitched. She was too close to him now. her legs brushing his.

"I hate you," she said, but her voice came out soft — almost breathless.

"I know," he murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear. "But you'll still touch me first."

She didn't answer — didn't even look at him. Her eyes stayed locked on his collar, her fingers twitching toward his chest. Marcos didn't move closer, didn't rush. He just watched her fall apart. He reached across her slowly, 

She lunged. Her mouth crashed into his, rough and hungry. Marcos caught her by the waist, dragging her onto his lap without hesitation. She straddled him, her hands in his hair, her body grinding down like she was starved for contact. He groaned into her mouth, his fingers digging into her hips, guiding her movements. Nicole moaned, low in her throat, her breath shaky and hot. Her lips left his and found his jaw, then his neck. She kissed him like she hated him. Like it burned.

Marcos leaned back against the Wall,.

"Marcos," she whispered, "Please… don't…"

He didn't answer right away.

He closed his eyes for a second.

The sound of her voice—raw, unguarded, high with craving—hit harder than he expected. This was supposed to be a game. A joke. But now… His hands slid up her waist. He kissed her, slow and deep, The quiet gasp she made. The way she said his name like she meant it.

"God, you feel so good…" he whispered.

Marcos froze for just a breath.

He looked at her—really looked—and suddenly, the fun of it all didn't feel so fun anymore. Because even if this had started as a setup…Marcos wasn't sure he was acting anymore. Marcos's hands, which had been gently guiding her movements, suddenly stilled. He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

"Angel," he called out, his voice steady but firm. The bathroom door opened, and Angel appeared, her expression unreadable.

"Take her home," Marcos instructed, carefully easing Nicole off his lap He avoided her gaze, stepping out of the bathroom.

Angel settled beside Nicole. "Let's get you home,"