||2nd Place in The Golden Arrow Awards||
In which a 20-year-old college student catches a boy sneaking in her room right after the "witching hour" and is persistent in finding out the truth she once believed was told by a super stupid stalker... wel...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Truth or dare
We all exchanged awkward looks, but I was restless for sure. I had my fingers tied together, (what I always did when speaking to people I had just met) and my lips kept sewing each other, meaning that when I wanted to speak or take a deep breath, I would have the pleasure of separating them from each other. Then out of boredom, I'd bite them to punish myself for agreeing to come here. But a part of me was thankful it wasn't a party full of drinking and dancing.
"Olivia, truth, or dare?" Eliza asked breaking the silence. We all glance at Olivia who was seated on her bed flipping threw a magazine. "Truth," she replies proudly dropping the magazine.
"Who was your first kiss?"
Olivia rolls her eyes, " Sean Burglind, first idiot I dated." she shrugs not minding to remember his kiss as a good moment. Olivia's eyes bolt to mine, then to the others. "Now... um, Marisol, truth or dare."
"Dare,"
"Um... go knock on my brother's door, (he's probably there with all the rest, ) and tell him it's time for the cake," Olivia says raising an eyebrow.
"Um... ok," Marisol says, excepting the challenge.
She got up and ran toward the room a few doors away. Indicating that she had arrived, we all heard the knock.
"Who is it!?"
"Who cares, what do you want!?"
"No ones getting up to open the door, loser!"
I snort when I hear the last comment.
"Get your lazy butts downstairs, or else you won't taste the holy birthday cake!"
"Holy birthday cake?" Amal whispers with a few giggles.
"Oh shit!" One of them yelled before we started to hear there sports shoes running Downstairs. A few seconds later and Marisol had already arrived with a smirk on her rose-red lip shade she always wore. "Holy birthday cake? Really?" I ask raising an eyebrow.
"What!? I just wanted to move things up. Besides some people eat cake only on birthdays so unless guys are rich enough to order deserts, they love cake." She defends taking a seat.
"Well, it is kinda holy." Olivia begins, "I never do parties because, for one, my folks only invite their friends or relatives. Two, it's lame."
"Like so lame," sally adds.
"Alright, Ruqaya, truth, or dare?" Marisol asked breaking the conversation.