Just a Dare

Chapter One

"Excuse me, come again?" I said to my best friend, Jonathan Berkeley, nearly choking on the mouthful of water I had just swigged from my plastic water bottle.

We were sitting at one of the round tables in our school cafeteria, the other chairs presently vacant since the meat heads we called our friends were up in line to purchase a school lunch.

We were what every annoying Hollywood high school movie would call the "jocks" at school, the guys who were in athletics and were on nearly every sports team the school had to offer.

Jon smirked at me, flashing his perfectly straight white teeth, a malicious sort of humor glinting in his deep blue eyes. "You heard me," he replied coolly. He picked up his soda, took a long gulp from it, and gestured over to a table across the room from ours, drink still in hand, to a petite brunette with her back to us presently. Her long, dark brown hair was plaited down her back, shining softly underneath the obnoxiously bright florescent light bulbs. "I dare you to make Melody Scribner fall madly in love with you."

For as long as I could remember, I had always hated Melody Scribner.

Of course, I saw what everyone who looked at her saw: a bright-eyed girl with a matching smile and hunger for knowledge. Good, smart, kind; that was her. Always offering to linger after class to help a fellow student with their work, eager to talk to her teachers during and after class. She knew the answer to nearly every question but would wait to see if anyone else knew it before cautiously raising her hand.

She was so nice and pure and innocent - the epitome of "Little Miss Sunshine" - and that had always annoyed the living shit out of me.

I didn't even keep it to myself after a while, reminding her of my contempt for her every second I had the chance. She smiled a sad smile the first time, but my constant jabs at her eventually led to witty comebacks, scathing remarks, and furious glances over the years.

Despite the fact that the infuriating girl was the bane of my existence, however, I thoroughly enjoyed watching her get all riled up, just to see how she'd react to what I'd say or do.

I glared at my friend, who wasn't feeling much like a friend presently, entertaining myself with many different colorful ways to murder him. He lazily placed the soda can back onto the table, his smirk widening. I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone at that moment as I watched him recline in his chair and wait for me to speak.

He was wearing his Letterman jacket, the large orange "B" emblazoned on the left chest side over the black material, and a patch with a football on it just below that with the year we made it to state with the Varsity team - our junior year. The back of the jacket bore his last name between his shoulder blades along with his jersey number (eleven) and the year we were going graduate. It was unbuttoned, revealing a blue V-neck T-shirt. His blonde hair was gelled as usual, the front spiked up.

"You know I can't do that." I ground out, irritated.

Jon arched a golden eyebrow. "What's that? Are you actually turning down a bet?"

"No," I snapped, "I just haven't agreed to it yet. It's impossible and you know it, so I really don't see why you're trying so hard to push me to do it."

He was being a prick about it. Was I really surprised, though? I knew the answer anyway.

No, because Jonathan Berkeley was an immature asshole, simple as that.

"Whoa, whoa. Watch it with the temper there, Trey." He said jokingly, chuckling. "I just meant that you've never turned down a dare. Ever."

Unfortunately, it was true.