Truth or Dare

Truth or Dare: Part 3

Another bead of sweat rolled down my forehead as the early sun blazed on me. It wasn't even eight in the morning and I was almost tempted to walk right back home and sleep. Since my little breakdown the other day, Mom took my car, so there was only one way to get to school: walking. Though I go for jogs on almost a daily basis, each time I took a step forward my legs only felt heavier and heavier. The weight on my shoulders from my backpack made them ache and the only thing that I wanted in that moment was air conditioning. And water.

The resentment towards my mother only grew with each step I took. I may have acted a little overdramatic but it wasn't any better than how she was; acting as if her husband's life wasn't taken from her or our family. It was selfish on her part. As I continued to overthink the events that happened yesterday, the walk to school didn't seem as long. Before I knew it, I was stood in front of the gates to a large, brick-walled hell. The feeling I felt inside of my stomach felt even worse than any pain on my shoulders or the reek of sweat on my clothes; the resentment towards school was even stronger than the bitterness I felt towards mom.

"You don't look too happy today," a voice said from in front of me. I looked up to find a girl with long, dirty blonde hair and piercing green eyes. The tone of her voice sounded even faker than her hair extentions.

"I'm peachy, thanks," I scoffed. "How are you, Christie?"

"Unsatisfied," she remarked after a moment of thinking. "How was yesterday?"

"Unsatisfied how?" I asked through gritted teeth, avoiding her question. She knows exactly what yesterday was, she was testing me.

"Got into bed with a guy who has the same eyes as you; wasn't nearly as good as you used to be," she laughed, grinning at me. "Anyways, how was yesterday?"

"Drop it," I huffed, starting to walk away.

"I went to his grave- I was surprised I didn't see you there, what happened?"

I stopped in my tracks. Why would Christie want to see my father's gravestone? She was up to something, and the scary part was that I didn't know what. Christie never cares enough for people to do things out of the kindness of her heart.

"I was busy. Bye, Christie." I seethed, not bothering to look at her as I started to leave once more.

"Bye, Luke. Put on some cologne while you're at it!" she called after me. It took willpower not to look back and flick her off.

"Luke, you smell like shit," Beau laughed at me as I walked up to him and my group of friends. "What happened?"

"Soaked in a bath of my own sweat as I walked to school," I reply with sarcastic happiness. "My mom took my car."

"Luke, you know that Kiera and I both have cars," a girl with dark hair and caramel-colored eyes spoke up, "You can call us any time for a ride."

"Well, not Kiera for the next month," Beau interjected. "She's been suspended for fist fighting."

"That girl's insane," I gape, knowing Kiera's history with fighting. "But thanks, Heather."

"No problem, babe," she smirked at me, typing on her phone mindlessly.

"There's your girlfriend over there, Luke," Beau teased, pointing at Nicky from across the courtyard. She was sat talking with the rest of the outcasts.

"Have you asked her out yet?" Heather's head snapped up from her phone and her eyes met mine.

"Nope," I answered shortly. "Do you have a cigarette?"

"Oh my god, Luke, we're at school," Heather shook her head incredulously, "You really have a smoking problem."

"I don't talk about your bad habits," I snapped, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

"You should ask her on a date today," Heather ignored my last remark, staring down Nicky.

"If you guys are so obsessed over this stupid thing, alright! I'll be back in five minutes," I hissed at her and Beau.

"Someone's pissy," I heard Beau mutter before I started walking towards Nicky.

As soon as I got to her and her group of friends, it was completely silent. People from around us started to stare, interested, as if they have never seen two humans interacting before. I swear, this school is ridiculous, I thought.

"Hey," I smiled when I reached Nicky.

"Oh, hi," she greeted, fixing her hair with her hands.

"So, I was wondering if you'd want to go out with me tonight," I started, putting on my popular-boy facade.

"What d'you mean?" Nicky asked, her brown eyes growing wide.

"A date; do you want to go on a date with me tonight?" I cleared my voice, putting on a charming smile.

"Oh, sure," her voice wavered, cheeks blushing furiously as she continued to play with her cherry-red hair.

"I'll pick you up at 7:00," I winked, walking away. Everyone broke out into hushed voices, their eyes trailing me as I made my way back to Heather and Beau.

"Nice," Beau laughed.

"Whatever. People keep looking at me like I'm a zoo animal."

"No one would've suspected you and Nicky," Heather admitted.

"Well, isn't that the point of the dare?" I laughed as the school bell went off, making everyone scatter around the courtyard to their first period.

"Once again, Lucas Passero is late. How many times will this one be?" sneered my first period teacher, Ms. Burns. Ever since my first day of high school, she, among many other teachers, have had it out for me; the reason being was my father was a notorious prankster back in his adolescence.

"I thought you were the math teacher between the two of us," I laughed, sitting at my assigned seat and dropping my backpack at the floor. The whole class was silent, as if a ticking time-bomb were to go off at any second.

"Do you need me to send the Dean down this time or will you go up there yourself?" Ms. Burns hissed, her aged face forming a very distasteful look.

"Send 'em down, I could do with some excitement today," I smiled, rummaging through my backpack for a pack of gum.

"If you get written up one more time, you get kicked off the team," whispered AJ, my soccer teammate, from the desk next to me.

"Oh, damn. In that case, gotta blast," I grinned sheepishly at AJ, picking up my backpack in sync with Ms. Burns picking up her class phone to contact the Dean.

"Lucas, where are you going?" Ms. Burns demanded as she held the phone to her ear.

"If you call the Dean down here, I'm leaving," I stated, heading towards the door.

"He's got balls," someone from my class whispered.

"Fine, sit down," she sighed, frustration clear in her face.

"I have won yet again," I grinned, "The score this year at the moment is five-to-three."

"The score?" Ms. Burns cried hopelessly, sitting down at her desk.

"You see, we get points every time we win a fight. I have five points, and you have three."

"We are not fighting," she said blankly.

"Arguing," I correct myself.

"Kill me," I hear her mutter a little too loudly.

"You're my favorite teacher, Miss Burns," I say, and I meant it.