"Fine, you want to talk?"
He nodded, eyes twinkling.
"I know the perfect way for us to get to know each other Brendon."
He raised an eye brow.
"Truth or dare."
Brendon grimaced. "Aren't we a little old to be playing truth or dare?"
"Heck no! You are never too old to play truth or dare, silly boy."
"But.." he started but I cut him off.
"No butt's!"
He opened his mouth to speak but the same man from the cleaning crew who had addressed us earlier swung the door open.
"Ladies, Gentlemen - no one is to leave this room now do you understand?" we nodded, looking around jokingly at the others he seemed to be addressing, "cleaning is a serious job and interruption could lead to serious injury," he looked so sincere that Brendon and I started to giggle uncontrollably.
"You think that's funny kids? One man I used to work with – nice fellow - decided he had the privilege to look out the window while vacuuming. Do you know what happened to him? Do you?"
"No sir," I answered, desperately trying to hold back my laughter.
He didn't find it funny though. "That cleaner ended up with four broken toes, children," he said holding a hand to his heart, "every time I clean a house I bring the vacuum of doom with me to remind myself that there is danger."
As soon as the door shut behind him, Brendon and I both landed on the floor laughing our heads off. We couldn't stop. I couldn't help but notice how Brendon's laugh was almost angelic– that in itself made me laugher harder. How could someone I didn't like so much have such a beautiful laugh!? Hilarious!
I opened my eyes and stopped laughing instantly. I had landed right next to Brendon, and our faces were millimetres apart. If either of us moved our heads in the slightest our lips would touch.
Brendon had stopped laughing and seemed to have come to the same realization as me. He tentatively lifted his hand and brushed away a tear on my cheek caused by the laughter.
His hot breath was fanning my face.
I was aching to close the distance between us.
I looked into his eyes and once again I felt weak, I now noticed his deep green eyes had scattered flecks of blue in them. His gaze was pinning me against him, and I didn't want to move away.
He just as slowly moved his hand away from my cheek.
"So, we were going to play truth or dare?" he asked in a whisper, breaking the silence.
I pulled myself up reluctantly and sat next to him on the floor, wondering what the hell had just happened.
"I will warn you, I am extremely good at this game."
"Oh, I bet you are," he unconvincingly joked, clearly still trying to recover from whatever that was.
"So...truth or dare?" I asked playfully, determined to shake it off.
"Truth."
I thought for a minute, what did I really want to know?
"Hmmm," I leaned against my bed, "what is your bedroom nickname?" I finally decided, best to make a joke.
"The King," he answered immediately.
"Seriously! Did you make that up or have you seriously been called that?" I asked surprised, my mouth hanging open. I hadn't actually been serious!
"Hey! In my mind, lots of people call me that," he said defensively. I laughed and slapped him on the arm.
"Okay little miss violent," he grinned, rubbing his arm, "truth or dare?"
"Truth," I laughed
"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
My heart lurched for Sam. I looked away as tears started to well up in my eyes. "I did. But I broke it off. I figured being apart until I go back to the city for college would be too hard."
I hated saying those words. I wiped my eyes and looked back to see his reaction.
He looked...happy?
"That sucks," he said with detectable fake sympathy.
"You know, when you sympathize with someone, you're not supposed to smile," I pointed out chuckling. Strangely, I didn't feel as sad now. Brendon had made me feel better whether he tried to or not.
"Yeah yeah," he waved his hand in dismissal.
Now that we had broken the ice, what followed was a whole lot of pointless but hilarious questions and dares. I had dared him to sweet talk a wall, I had found out that he wasn't exactly a one woman man - he never had one relationship at once – that the stupidest thing he ever did was date a pair of twins at once and mix up their names on a date (the girl, whose name he still couldn't 100% remember, kneed him in the crotch). He sucked at math, hated soccer but was good at it, he can speak French thanks to Isabella moving the family there because she was convinced she was in love with a man who lived there, who turned out to be gay. He told me about more failed dates. He told me things he jovially remarked that he had never told anyone. Brendon was starting to surprise me.
I surprised myself too - I told him all about me as well. I told him about Asher and Ariel and Sam. I told him bits and pieces about my relationship with my dad, and after persuading him that I really didn't dye my hair the deep red colour it is, I grudgingly told him that I was a virgin. I told him what I would miss about home and how I didn't want things to change.
I told him all of that and, astonishingly, didn't regret it. The entire time I had scowled, I had nearly cried, but I had laughed. I felt like I could be myself with Brendon. I felt oddly privileged that he would tell me all the personal things he did, and I felt lighter and happier that I had told him mine.
But the game wasn't over.
"What is your favourite thing about yourself?" Brendon asked, still laughing from me telling him I have in fact peed my pants at school.
"Probably my red hair," I smiled.
"Go on," he prompted with his hands.
"I don't know!" I said waving around my hands in a mockery of his gesture, "I guess it just matches my personality...fiery, determined... hot."
He laughed at the compliment directed at myself. We had now moved and were lying on our backs on the floor, drinking from a flask of watered down vodka that had miraculously appeared from Brendon's laptop case.
When he asked I chose dare. He stayed silent for a moment, deliberating the possibilities.
"I don't know what to make you do!" He cried in defeat after a minute or two.
"Think of something! Use your imagination, I don't know, maybe dare me to jump in the pool out the window or something!" I joked
He looked over at me seriously, "that's not a half bad idea."
"No no no NO!" I slapped myself mentally for giving him the idea.
He sat up and straddled me, "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!" he whined like a baby.
"NO! It will be cold!" I complained trying to push him off me.
"We can do it together?" he suggested smiling. Looking up at his happy expression I felt myself agreeing. Pathetic!
I thought it over for exactly five seconds.
"Okay, you have got yourself a deal." I pulled myself up and pushed open the window that covered the entire back wall.
I turned back to him now feeling nervous, but I was distracted by the sight of Brendon taking off his pants.
"What are you doing?" I squeaked, shutting my eyes.
"Stripping, I don't want my clothes to get ruined, plus if we throw them out the window before us we can use them to get warm again."
I hesitantly pulled my shirt over my head.
Something flashed in his eyes when he saw me, but he quickly cleared his throat and walked to the front of the room.
"Shall we?" He asked, reaching for my hand.
"We shall," I whispered, grabbing his.
And then we were falling.