Page 8 of The Bully's Dare

“Okay. I want to lose my virginity.” She shrugs. “I know that’s like…pedestrian.”

“It’s not.”

“And I know it’s a big deal for some people. But I don’t know…I just sort of want to rip off the band-aid. You know?”

“Quick and fast?”

“Okay, maybe not that much like ripping off a band-aid. But just…simple. No complications. With someone I trust, ideally. And then it’ll be over with and I can go about my life without this thing hanging over my head.” Her emerald eyes blink at me. “Do you think I’m cold?”

“No,” I tell her. “It’s your body. You should do whatever you want with it.”

She points her fork at me. “Thank you. You get me.”

And I get it: I’m her gay best friend that she can open up to about things like this. Her blossoming sexuality. Her slutty summer plans. I am a man she can talk to fearlessly, without worrying that I’ll turn around and try to kiss her.

So why is this conversation making me hard?

“Okay, you now,” she says.

“What about me?”

“Truth or dare, Donovan?”

As if truth is even an option right now. “Dare.”

She nods towards the party boat. “I dare you to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

An idea forms. I put down the paper plate and stand up. “Only if you come with me.”

“Obviously, I’m in.” I reach out a hand, she takes it. Her hand feels so soft in mine.

I lead Kenzi down the dock.

It’s illuminated by dock lights, these big, bulky things that are swamped by moths. We walk slowly down the wooden panels so they don’t creek too loudly.

It turns out to be overkill. By time we get to the Healing Touch, we don’t see anyone on the back—they’ve moved the party to the bow of the boat. We can hear beer cans cracking, music blaring, and rancorous laughter, but we can’t see them…

And more importantly, they can’t see us.

I point to the cleats, which keep the boat tied up to the dock. “You get the ones on the other side,” I whisper to Kenzi. “I’ll take these.”

She sneaks around the side of the boat. I crouch down on the edge of the dock and unwind the thick rope from the cleats. As quietly as I can, I toss the rope onto the deck of the boat.

Kenzi comes back around, crouching behind the lights. “Done!”

I put my palms on the side of the boat. “On the count of three…push.”

I count and, together, we give the boat a hefty push. It doesn’t take much. It’s a still night and, soundlessly, slowly, the boat follows the momentum of our push and drifts out of the slip and into the inky black water.

In the enclosed marina…it’s not going far. But it’s going to give them a hell of a shock when they realize what’s going on.

Which happens sooner than I think.

“Whoa, are we moving, or is it just me?” A female voice hiccups from the bow.

“Run!” I whisper urgently to Kenzi.

We race down the dock, up the bridge, and behind the tall cattails by the pool. The tall grass tickles our ankles. We collide together, I hook my arm around her to slow her down. “Look,” I tell her.

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