The Virgin Wars

Chapter 3

"What kind of game?" Graham asked, his hazel eyes wide and ominous. I took another swing from the bottle of liquor and attempted to cross one leg over the other. I kicked Ella in the head instead. I lost my train of thought for a moment, and then immediately remembered I was looking for an outlet to amuse myself.

The living room was furnished. The Wilson's were a family of money, however not from hard work. Celeste once told me that Graham's parents inherited millions of dollars from Graham's grandfather, who was a self-made author, who sold millions of copies of his novella in Taiwan. When he died, he left all of his money to Graham's parents.

"Fun a game."

Everyone gave me a weird look.

"A fun game," I tried again.

"Someone's had a little too much to drink," Celeste was suddenly in front of me, a bright hickey on her neck. She was holding a beer in one hand and her eyes were glazed with sobriety.

"I'll take care of her," Graham looped an arm over me, his other hand touching my waist. Everything about him seemed so effortless: his dialogue, his gestures, his smile. "I promise that I'll behave myself." He winked at Celeste, who flipped him off and leaned forward, helping me up.

"Over my dead body you'll take care of her."

I recoiled away from her, throwing her hands away.

"I can takes care of my me," I blurted out.

"You can't even structure your own sentences, Peyton," Celeste warned me, "don't you dare tell me you can take care of yourself. You're wasted." Her face was red, her fists clenched at her sides. A blue vein popped up in her temple, matching the colour of her dress.

I giggled and fell back onto the couch.

"So, a game?" Ariel asked, breaking the awkward tension. Celeste rolled her eyes and went to go sit with Will again. They looped their fingers together and I eyed them with envy. Ariel's pierced ears shone iridescently in the artificial light. "How about truth or dare?"

Will had let go of Celeste's hand and was now wrestling on the carpeted floor with Josh.

"We're not in sixth grade," Celeste protested. She reached forward and glowered over the bottle of vodka.

"What, you have a better idea?" Ella defended her sister. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned back into a large cushion, her sides bulging under the pressure of her denim shorts.

After a couple moments of silence, Celeste raised her hands in surrender. "Truth or dare it is."

Will and Josh stopped wrestling on the ground and both stood up. Josh arched his back. "This should be interesting." Josh took a seat next to Nadia, merely inches away from her. Her dark hair was messy, tangling all the way past her belly button.

"Truth or dare," Celeste said, turning towards Graham. He pretended to ponder for a couple moments and finally answered.

"Dare." He raised his eyebrows, willing to accept challenges apparently.

"I dare you to tell us how many girls you've slept with," Celeste coughed as she took a swing from the bottle of liquor. She squirmed in her dress, which acted like another layer of skin.

"That's a truth question," Graham said, "not a dare."

"Does it look like I give a flying shit?" Graham arched an eyebrow at her nastiness. "Just answer the goddamn question."

"Six." He poked my side. "Maybe seven."

"Six?" Nadia gasped, holding onto Josh's arm. "Dude, that's a lot."