I Dare You (Pheacker)

Part I - Dare

I never meant for things to go this far: me, scarfing down a second gigantic plate of nachos, as my friends cheer me on or stare at me in disbelief. But that's what happens when college kids order too much food, to-go, from a bar after having a few too many drinks. I'm not old enough to drink, so I didn't want to risk the consequences on my A-student status, Theo is the same age as me and also doesn't want to take the risk for similar reasons, and George, for reasons he's never told any of us, always decides to stay sober on nights like this. Theodosia Burr is an honor student, like me, and George Eacker is... Well, he mostly keeps to himself about most personal things.

It's normally a good thing that there's three of us sober, in case things go wrong with the other three. One per one person seems to work out better than one to three, and especially one to five. Georges Washington de Lafayette is usually a more responsible drunk than ordinary people, but he mostly speaks French while drunk and only my sister and I can understand French. Frances Laurens, my sister (technically sister-in-law) and John Todd are the ones we really have to watch out for. John gets a horrible temper if he starts to get a headache, and Frances does stupid stuff to endanger herself, and sometimes others, because she doesn't seem to value life as much as she should, which they are both seeing the counselors about, but nothing has really changed yet. Either way, they're bad influences on drunk Georges, so all three together almost requires three people to watch them.

Everyone is currently standing and/or sitting in places around a picnic table in the park that resides in the center of our college's campus. It's really a beautiful park, with plenty of trees and a few streetlights that just barely light up the park at night. I'm sitting in the middle of a bench on one side of the table and just chowing down on the nachos as they all watch me.

You see, we decided to play Truth or Dare?, and when you play this game with half of the players drunk, some of the extra to-go food is going to be put to some purpose. Or so I've learned from my own experience, at least. Maybe their drunk minds are just very uncreative in coming up with dares. This time, Frances dared me to eat all of the leftovers in one sitting. And it just so happened that the leftover food was all a bunch of nacho plates that Georges had ordered, drunkenly mistaking the number one for seven... somehow. Most of them have already been eaten or otherwise disposed of somehow, but I've been stuck with three entire plates of nachos.

I'm mostly focused on trying to stomach all this food right now, after already having a full dinner of a large burger and fries while the others were drinking and ordering unnecessary amounts of food, but every now and then, I manage to glance up at the others to get an idea of who's even still paying attention or not. If no one is paying attention or caring at some point, maybe I can just stop rather than stuff my stomach past its limit, as I've almost done already. (Honestly, I'm surprised it's holding this much -- I guess the burger and fries digested more than I originally thought already.) Georges is distracted, listening to John tell him some things that he probably isn't really listening to and that don't make much sense. However, at least two people are paying very close attention: Frances, of course, as the one who originally created the dare, and Theo, who obviously has a huge crush on Frances and will throw her heart and soul into anything she initiates or seems to want to do. George is also watching, but his expression is unreadable, so it's hard to tell what he'd do if I stopped or what he'll do if I keep going. I keep working on the nachos, realizing I'm not getting away from this dare without either giving in or finishing this food. And I'm sure as heck not giving in.

A few minutes later, I finish the second plate. A few of my friends cheer -- Frances, Theo, and even Georges joins in -- and I'm passed the third and final plate. My stomach already feels stuffed. I'm not sure I can even take a bite of this one. But I do it anyway. The cheerers keep cheering me on as I force down more and more nachos, feeling my stomach stretch past any limit I think it's reached before. It's not a comfortable feeling. And yet, it's not... uncomfortable. It's almost satisfying, in a way, when I finish the last nacho of the plate and let myself relax for a minute, putting a hand on my stomach.

That's when it starts to hurt. And then it's uncomfortable. I groan a bit, not sure if my body wants me to throw up or lie down and sleep. I manage to stand up, stumbling a little bit from the imbalance that the extra pounds of food in my stomach is giving me. Most of my friends just laugh and pay no more attention to me after that. George and Theo are the only ones who really seem to care about my well-being at the moment. Theo rushes over to make sure I can walk back to the dorms, but she's not strong enough to support me, so George comes over and supports my other side, truthfully doing most of the full support himself.

Eventually, we all make it back to the dorms, everyone dispersing and going their separate ways. The girls have to go to the girls' dorm, so Theo reluctantly leaves my side and joins Frances, making sure she gets back to the right place. Georges and John go down the hall in the other direction, where their rooms are, and I just hope they make it there. George stays with me, though, to make sure I make it back to my own room. He takes me inside the dorm room and helps me sit down on my bed, which is difficult with such a full stomach. It aches, but it'll go away within an hour or so. Then I'll get up and get to bed. I expect George to just say "goodnight" and leave, but he stops before he goes to the door and looks at me.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"I'll be fine in a bit," I assure him, giving him a smile to help convince him that I really am alright. He looks like he's about to say something else, or do something, but he just stands there in silence for a bit, so I decide to speak up again. "Really, I will. It's just a lil' full... well, overstuffed belly, I should say." I pat my stomach for emphasis. "It's nothing to get too worried about."

George then just completely goes still, staring down at my middle. I can't tell what he's thinking by his expression. He's good at hiding his emotions. Which isn't necessarily a good thing. Maybe he's still concerned? Finally, he speaks again. "Alright," he says, and I'm not sure if I imagined a slight voice crack there. "I'll see you tomorrow, Philip." He's the only one who insists on calling me Philip rather than Pip, for some reason. But I don't question it. He seems more comfortable with it. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I reply, watching as he turns and leaves the room.

With that, I carefully lay myself down, rubbing my stomach instinctively and finding that it helps a lot. I close my eyes, but it's difficult to fall asleep, because every time I start to drift off, my hand stops, and the pain continues. Eventually, though, after about an hour, as predicted, my stomach digests enough for it to not be so uncomfortable anymore, and I finally fall asleep, exhausted.