The Trap

21 Dares

21 Dares could possibly be the worst game ever invented. It wasn’t that it wasn’t fun to play, nor not that it was hard to understand. Oh no, it was quite simple to comprehend. Do the dare or die. That’s what they say.

It’s because of those five words that it could possibly be the worst game ever invented. It’s a game of chance, a game of luck, a game that could go either way. There are no cheats or tricks. In this situation, 21 is the worst possible thing any human being could say - no exaggerations. You say the numbers, count up from one, and pray that yours isn’t 21.

Mine was.

“Vin!” They laughed and cheered, grateful that they’d been given an opportunity to play with me as if I was their puppet, and a slight cheer of relief that it hadn’t been either one of them. It was close though, Jon had had 18.

“Hmm...” He thought for a while before he made his pick. He had the choice of saying one number and having it off his chest, saying two and allowing it to land on Nat, or even adding a twist and saying 21 himself. Either way, Chris was safe. He put his arms behind his head, and sighed contentedly.

“19.” I knew it was over then. Why would Nat say 21 and put himself up for that kind of vulnerability? Yes, it was far from over. All I needed to hear was confirmation of the inevitable, which I did, with a chuckle,

“20.”

I didn’t say it. I simply looked at all three of them, and shook my head as if I didn’t care. My fingers shook with fear. I’d always been lucky at this game, it never landed on me and I knew they’d take advantage of this opportunity, seeing as it was likely that it may never come again. They all grinned such a grin that I was sure that at least one of them was related to Cruella herself. The boys weren’t the nicest anyway. I don’t even know why I hung around with them, maybe because I’d known them for so long that I almost felt safe around them. I knew that they’d have my back. Standing next to them made me feel like Father Theresa, even though we’d all been to juvenile detention at least once. Nevertheless, I was the baby of the group, spending only a week there.

“We dare you to...” Chris began, before being interrupted by a hard slap on the arm by Nathan. Chris’ muscle tensed a little, showing off what all his work outs this month had done. This prompted me to look down at my own; I sighed, comparing them. They were puny.

“Ok, ok, I’ve got one...we dare you to-”

“No, no, no. We’ve gotta get this one right. This might be the last dare we give him for a long, long time. No, boys...this has got to be GOOD.” Nathan concluded in a kingly fashion. All the better for him to be the leader; he’d spent the most time in detention. Nathan had spent our sentences combined – three times.

“I dare you, Vincent Valentine, to date 50...”

“No... 75!” Chris suggested.

“It’s gotta be 80!” Jon competed. They all looked at each other, finding common ground, and deciding without words, but purely with their eyes,

“We dare you to date 100 women before you’re 30.” I screwed my face up at them in confusion; I hadn’t even been successful with one yet.

“Correction, twenty-two, and that includes a little 'whoo-hoo'.” Nat added, complete with actions. The boys laughed at this. Try as I might, I couldn’t find the hilarious side that was making them clutch their sides with mouths wide open.

"Twenty-two? That's a little specific." I attempted to sway away from the subject.

"Yep. One year after you're legal." Nathan explained.

"I am legal."

"Officially," He emphasized, "Legal." I sighed.

“22, I mean that's a little tight...," I nearly begged for mercy with the look in my eyes, "Come on, I'm already eighteen and I've barely even touched a girl.”

“That’s your dare. Do or die.”

“Well, you can start writing my will because I can’t do that! I’m not doing that...no, I’m not.” I finished it in such a way that said, ‘That is that and there will be no discussion’.

“Vinnie, you’re so innocent. Come on, that’s not you. What happened to the juvie guy we all know and love?”

“He’s not here.” I murmured.

“We’re gonna make you a magnet, and after tonight, no chick will be able to resist you.”

I shook my head, agreeing to it reluctantly. How bad could it be? And you know what they say, you can’t change a person. I turned to face him and nodded my head, standing firm to what was inside my head. Do your worst, I thought.

“Sounds like a plan.” I finally said.

I had the worst sleep of my life that night. All that false calmness as I’d concluded I would do it had worn off and now, I was susceptible to whatever they wanted. I’d never exactly been a leader, nor a follower. Just someone in the middle – just a boy. Or a man, I imagined.

On the other side, Nat was a born-leader. He did it naturally and when he did, you knew to listen and to follow. I wouldn’t say he was inspiring to follow but he wasn’t a bad person. Just a ‘man’ who didn’t seem to be afraid of anything (i.e detention, or punishment in any form for the matter), or anyone at all. Nathan was loved, though right from the beginning of school – mostly because he had the right amount of coolness, ‘passed’ his tests, and actually knew how to treat a lady.

I’d only ever seen him at his weakest once, and that was my strongest.

First publish on this site J