Truth or dare?

A noise came from inside the door, and for a second I felt like the lights had gone low at some big stadium. But no, this was still Beans Hall, still a pack of people I saw almost every day, and this was a day like any other. Except for the storm threatening to blow out the windows, of course. The door opened, and there stood Harry, in all his six-foot-three, olive skinned glory. I swallowed my spit. I refused to let anyone see my reaction, least of all Jack. “Come in, come in, don’t let the weather get you down,” he said, like he hadn’t just been making us wait.

For what, I couldn’t tell. It looked the same as every other night of the year. Unlike the rest of us plebeians, Harry could divide up his room with dedicated study space, with his desk, a desktop computer, and a small book shelf. The bed Regis provided him was tucked into a polite corner to maintain the pretence–though no one would check, or care–that he actually slept in it. The beds felt small for me, standing most of a foot shorter than Harry. He supplied his own futon, and not one of those cheapo ones that creaked when anyone put their weight against it. This was a green-upholstered, majestic thing. In our study sessions I often ran my hand along the underside. It was nice. Would be nice to sleep on, too.

Not that I would know.

“Hey, Vi,” said Harry as I passed him by.

“Wah,” I said, though I’d meant to say hi. He didn’t indicate he’d noticed. I didn’t have time to puzzle out if he was being polite or if I could actually hold on to my dignity for a minute longer.

The six of us filed in. With the futon and the bed, as well as his desk furniture, there was actually enough space for all of us to sit down. Harry stayed standing anyway, and the boys lurked together for a second, talking quietly. “If anyone wants a drink, I got a couple bottles of wine,” Harry said, peeking out from their huddle.

Me and Molly sat next to each other on the futon, while Joan chose the desk chair. It was nice, one of those ergonomic mesh things that were supposed to do wonders for your back. Tall as he was, I thought Harry needed it. Lea dragged over the single bed and took a seat on it.

The four of us girls were left to our own devices for a moment. Molly made for the wine bottles right away, doling out red plastic cups to each of us present, and then filled her own. She passed it off to Joan, who filled it with a more modest amount. The four of us weren’t friends, as a group, but it’s not like we were enemies. I don’t think so, at least, I thought, noting for the second time the strange ice that seemed to hang in between Molly and Lea. I knew things could be competitive in the psychology department, but neither of them seemed the competitive type. I decided not to mention it and looked at Joan.

“What’s going on with the hospital?” I asked.

She blinked at me. “Like, the treatment?” she said, looking like a mooning cow.

I smiled politely. Joan and I weren't really friends, either. She associated with Molly because the school had placed them together, and I associated with Molly because I actually liked her. Joan was a nice girl, but she wouldn’t have been my choice for hangouts except for circumstance. But I could make conversation, which was important, given the internet would probably be out until things opened up again during the week. “With the storm, I mean. They wouldn’t make you go in, would they?”

“They don’t really want the students around when it isn’t going crazy,” she said with an awkward giggle. “Anyone who doesn’t need to be there got sent home, and they’re locking down everything else. So far as they can.”

“That’s good, I guess,” I said.

Finally, the boys emerged from their little pep talk. The three of them didn’t fit together. Harry was more polite to Paul than some of the guys on the floor, but Jack was just the opposite. It was like he thought bullying was to be maintained well into adulthood. Most times he pretended the guy didn’t exist, and that was by far the preferable option.

Paul sat on the plastic chair that Bean supplied its residents, directly across from Joan. She must have loved that. Harry stayed standing, and occupied a spot between the futon and the bed. And closer to me, I noted.

“I have an idea,” said Jack, like he was pulling something directly from my nightmares. He sat down on the bed beside Lea. She made a snort of derision which he ignored.

“Fuck off, Jack,” I sighed.

“She hasn’t even heard it yet!” he protested with a laugh in Harry’s direction. His friend sighed, and I tried to swallow my bile. There had to be something about him that was less than horrible if Harry could stomach spending time with him. He was the smartest, funniest, nicest guy I knew. Was it just that he was too nice to extricate himself from Jack's friendship?

“Just tell us the idea, Jack,” Lea sighed, crossing one leg over the other.

Jack pulled the baggie of cocaine out of his back pocket. “I have some nose candy, and Harry's got a shit ton of weed. We could do it all now, but then we'd be totally dry while the firefighters come dig us out.”

“Nobody wants to do coke with you,” I said.

The scion of the Bean family rolled his eyes. “Whatever, baby. Just shut up and listen, okay? Okay.” He seemed a little jumpy, and I had to ask myself whether he was already sampling his own supply. It wasn't out of the question. “It's gonna be truth or dare. Anyone that doesn't want to do a dare or answer a question has to snort a line. Okay? Okay.”

I sat back on the futon. “Are we twelve years old?” I scoffed.

Jack gave me a look. It actually struck me somewhere deep down inside. Whenever I told him to fuck off, he would just smile, or wave his stupid fingers, or say something terrible about women. But for once he just looked back at me with a measure of the same disgust I had for him. His lip curled. He looked down his nose at me. It was surreal. “If you want to go fuck yourself in your room for the next week, nobody would mind. The rest of us want to have some fun, bitch. So toodle fucking ooh.” He pointed to the door.

My mouth hung open. I was on the verge of throwing hands, and it took everything I had not to charge him. Luckily Harry put his hand on Jack's chest in a faint warning. “Jesus, man, calm down,” he muttered. “It doesn't have to be a big deal. We just thought it'd be fun to pass the time and get to know each other better.”

I glanced over at Molly, who was just as furious with Jack as me. She clenched her jaw at Harry's accommodation, signaling something to me with her eyes. Unfortunately my socially maladjusted butt couldn't read it. I refused to shoot back. If he was right about one thing, it was that we needed to play nice, at least for a little while. Why couldn't his grandmother just kick the bucket a few days earlier? I thought, noting even caring how horrible it was. Six people would've been so much more pleasant.

“So long as you aren't a dick during the game,” Molly said.

Jack didn't answer. Harry nodded. “Don't worry, I don't let him get out of hand.” He smiled at me, and I felt my spirits lift out of the bog Jack had plunged me into when he showed up at my door earlier that afternoon. I smiled back.

“Fine,” I said with a light breath. “Let's do this.”