Page 38 of The Bully's Dare

He opens his arms wide, imploring. “What’s it going to take?”

I clutch my elbows and shrug.

He squints at me, like we’re playing a game. “Give me a clue.”

“Truth or dare?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Dare.”

“I dare you to be less of a jackass to Donovan. See where that gets you.”

With that, I slip inside the house, leaving Jason alone on the doorstep.

17

Kenzi

Pearl is already in her pajamas when I come home, but she still wants to know all the details. Where did we go? How did the date go? Was there a kiss?

I’m sitting in the kitchen and having second dessert—my nerves are wired and I need it—and doing the best to field her questions when the house phone goes off. She picks it up, talks briefly, and then gives me a sly smile. She puts her hand over the receiver and says in a sing-songy voice, “It’s Jaaaay-son.”

I nearly choke on my cookie. Quickly, I scramble to my feet and dash upstairs. “I’ll take it in my room!”

Cue me tripping over my own elephant feet to get into my bedroom, shutting the door, and quickly lifting the receiver: “Got it, Pearl! Thanks!”

“Keep it PG, darlings,” Pearl says before she hangs up the phone and I want to crawl under my bed.

“Hi,” I say, forcing the word in a hard breath.

“Hey.” I can practically hear Jason’s cocky smile on the other end. “Your mom’s hilarious.”

I sit down on the edge of my bed. “How’d you get my number?”

“Well, technically, it’s Terry’s number. And he and my dad are friends. So.”

“Oh.” Duh. “What’d you want?”

“So that date didn’t really go as planned.”

I scoff. “What…so you’re calling because you’re mad I didn’t kiss you?”

“No. That’s not what I’m talking about. I didn’t get to ask you all the questions I wanted to ask you.”

“Like?”

He pauses, then he asks: “Can we play a game?”

“Like?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Okay…truth.”

“Why do you feel like you have to hide?”

I pause. Whoa. That wasn’t the question I expected him to ask. Maybe something like does the carpet match the drapes or do you shave down there? Not something…real.

I lean back against the huge, fluffy pillow against my headboard and deliberate my answer. “I guess…I’ve always like I’m getting in the way. Like I’m…”

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