It Started with a Dare

12

"You guys did what?!" Emilee exclaimed, eyes widening.

"Made out," I replied simply, taking my seat in the booth. The pizza parlor was somewhat busy, but not as busy as usual.

Marcus let out a whistle. "Well, Braelyn, I didn't know you had it in you," He said with a smirk.

I glared. "Thanks, Marcus. You're so encouraging," I said sarcastically.

He shrugged. "I'm always here to make you feel better, Brae," he said.

"Where's Xavier? I haven't seen him around in forever," I said, changing the subject. Marcus and Emilee shifted uncomfortably in their seats. I raised my eyebrows. "Spill it," I said.

Marcus sighed, "Braelyn, h-"

"He's been busy," Emilee interrupted, shooting Marcus a warning glare.

I crossed my arms. "I don't believe you," I said.

Emilee gave me a sympathetic smile. "He'll tell you when he's ready," she said.

"Tell me what?" I asked.

"That's not for me to tell," Emilee replied.

I sighed, "Fine, but is he alright?"

Marcus nodded. "Yeah, he's just fine," he said.

I didn't say anything else, and a young waiter, a girl, made her way over to us. "Hi, welcome to Mr. Pizza. What can I get you?" She asked, getting out a notepad.

"One large, supreme pizza with three A&W Root Beers," Marcus rattled off our usual order.

I looked at Emilee as the waiter walked away. "So, if we made out, what does it mean? Like on a relationship level," I said.

"While you guys are talking, I'm going to the bathroom," Marcus said, sliding out of the booth.

Emilee dismissed him with a wave, wanting to answer my question. "Well, for me, it would mean the start of a relationship, but they're jerks out there who are just looking for a fling. When you get the chance, ask him."

"Like text him?" I asked.

"No, in person, so he can't lie to you," Emilee said in a 'duh' tone.

I nodded. She had a point. Then, I began to think about what he would say. Would he laugh and tell me not to worry about it? Would he say I'm just a fling? Or would he tell me that he wanted me to be his girlfriend? The last choice was the one I wanted, but what if it was one of the other two?

I sighed and rested my chin on my fist. Emilee looked at me with soft eyes. "You really like him, don't you?" She asked.

I nodded. "I do, but what if he hurts me like Jared? I can't go through that again, Em. I just can't," I mumbled.

"Ridge isn't Jared, Braelyn, and if he does hurt you, I will kill him and bury him in the football field," Emilee said.

Marcus made his way back to us and slid back into the booth. "What about the football field?" he asked, draping an arm around Emilee's shoulder.

"Nothing," Emilee said, shooting him a smile. They were cute together, and they always had been. You see, Emilee and Marcus had been dating since eighth grade. Three years total. I didn't think they would ever break up. I wanted a love like that, but after Jared, I wasn't sure I would ever get it.

"Braelyn," Marcus said, waving a hand in front of my face.

"Hmm?" I asked, snapping out of my thoughts.

"What do you say?" Marcus asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "What do I say about what?" I asked.

He chuckled, "You weren't listening. I asked you if you wanted to come to the football game on Friday."

I shook my head. "Can't. I have a date on Friday," I said. The waitress came back with the drinks, and another brought the tray of pizza.

Emilee laughed, "So, you admit. It is a date." I took a sip of my root beer, shooting her a flat look. She held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, subject dropped."

I grabbed a piece of pizza and began to eat it. Marcus shook his head and grabbed himself a piece. "I don't see why you can't admit it, Brae. It's a date. A guy doesn't ask a girl to the movies if he doesn't like her or if he's a pig, looking for a little company." He wiggled his eyebrows as he said company.

I rolled my eyes, swallowing my bite of pizza. "Marcus, you would be in the pig section," I teased.

He nodded. "Touche, Sawyer. Touche."

Emilee frowned. "Then, what does that make me?" she asked.

"Clueless," I teased. We all laughed at that. To calm my laughs, I took a sip of root beer.

"So, ladies, what are we doing after this?" Marcus asked.

I shrugged. "Movies?" I suggested.

"Who's paying?" Emilee asked.

"One...two...three," Marcus said.

"Not it!" I said first, followed by Emilee. Marcus was the last one.

Marcus frowned. "Fine," he grumbled, angrily taking a bite of pizza.