Page 11

Campbell

A dimly lit space, excessive alcohol, and friends ready for reckless abandon created palpable excitement and tension. I leaned back on the couch, stretching my arms along the backrest as I watched the chaos unfold.

It had been Nevaeh’s idea to play Truth or Dare. Of course, it was her idea. The girl thrived on drama and loved nothing more than putting people into uncomfortable situations for her entertainment. Because my options were limited, I joined in. The bottle spun in the center of the circle. I became intrigued. Especially when Hazel was sitting across from me.

She sat on the beanbag, legs tucked close. The night had rumpled her Tinkerbell costume, and she crossed her arms over her chest as if shielding herself from the spotlight. Her wide eyes darted around the room, and I could feel her discomfort radiating off her. The bottle slowed, its neck pointing at Hazel.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Nevaeh said, leaning forward with a wicked grin. “Hazel, truth or dare?”

Hazel blinked, her cheeks flushing pink under the low light.

“Um... truth?” she said, her voice barely audible over the hum of conversation.

“Boring!” Someone groaned.

“Dare!” Nevaeh declared, ignoring Hazel’s choice. “I dare you to kiss someone in this room.”

The laughter and catcalls started, the noise wrapping around Hazel like a noose. She stiffened, her eyes widening as her flush deepened.

“Not happening,” she said, forcing a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Pick someone else.”

But the group wasn’t letting her off.

“Come on, Hazel!” someone chanted, echoed by others. “Do it! Do it!”

I felt my lips twitch into a grin as Hazel’s gaze darted to me for half a second before skittering away. She appeared mortified.

“What about Campbell?” one guy called out, the suggestion sending a fresh wave of laughter through the group. “Bet he wouldn’t say no!”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I tilted my head, letting my gaze linger on Hazel until she looked at me again.

“C’mon, Ellis,” I drawled, my smirk widening as her flush spread to her neck. “Scared it might be the best kiss of your life?”

The laughter doubled, filling the room with teasing, electric energy. But Hazel didn’t laugh. Her jaw tightened, and her eyes flashed with something sharp as she glared at me.

“Not everything’s a game to me.” She said, her voice was steady despite the trembling of her hands.

The room quieted at her words; the laughter tapering off into awkward shuffling. I raised an eyebrow, leaning back again as I studied her. She wasn’t wrong—I treated lots of things like a game. But this? This wasn’t a game to me either. Not really. The bottle spun again, landing on me this time. The group erupted in cheers, and before I could even speak, Nevaeh called out, “Dare!”

I smirked, not at all surprised.

“All right. Hit me.”

Nevaeh’s grin was almost predatory. But as soon as she opened her mouth, someone beat her to it.

“I dare you to kiss Hazel.”

Everyone watched Hazel; she seemed ready to flee. Her fingers clutched the edge of the beanbag, and she stared at me as if daring me. I pushed to my feet, stretching as I rolled my shoulders.

“If you insist.” I said, my tone light, but my gaze locked on hers.

The circle parted as I stepped towards her, the room suddenly feeling too small, too warm. Hazel’s breath hitched as I approached, her wide eyes following my every move. I crouched, my smirk softening into something more playful as I leaned closer. Her lips parted, and I could feel the tension rolling off her in waves. Then, at the last second, I tilted my head and brushed a kiss against her cheek instead. The warmth of her skin lingered on my lips, a comforting heat that I savored before releasing her.

“That one’s on me,” I murmured, my voice low enough that only she could hear. I straightened, smirking at her. “Next one’s on you.”

The group erupted in whistles and groans, but I barely heard them. My gaze remained fixed on Hazel, who sat frozen, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes wide. I winked at her before returning to my seat, the grin on my face widening as I saw her reach up, almost absently, to touch the spot where my lips had been. Nevaeh’s sharp eyes flicked between us, her glossy lips curving into a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Hazel had sunk deeper into her beanbag, trying to make herself invisible, her hand still brushing her cheek like she couldn’t shake the ghost of my kiss. Nevaeh leaned forward, her posture radiating faux excitement as she addressed the group.

“Okay, okay, my turn!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands to regain everyone’s attention.

My smirk faded, my instincts picking up on the edge of her tone. I didn’t trust that grin, and judging by the way Hazel stiffened, neither did she. The bottle spun, its neck wobbling in indecision before landing on Hazel again.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Nevaeh said, her voice sweet. “Hazel, truth or dare?”

Hazel hesitated, her gaze darting around the circle.

“Truth.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nevaeh’s grin widened.

“Hmm, okay,” she said, dragging out the word as she tapped a finger against her chin. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done? Something juicy.”

The group chuckled, leaning in, their curiosity piqued. Hazel’s blush deepened, her shoulders hunching as she fumbled for a response.

“I, um...” she stammered, her hands twisting in her lap. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on,” Nevaeh pressed, her tone still syrupy but with a sharper edge now. “Everyone’s got something. Remember eighth grade graduation? You tripped, broke a table.” She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. My jaw tightened. Nevaeh’s tone was too pointed, her laugh too forced, and Hazel looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor. “Or,” Nevaeh continued, her grin turning downright predatory, “maybe it’s something more recent. Like when you—”

“Nevaeh.” I cut in; my voice sharp enough to slice through the noise.

Everyone looked my way; I felt their collective focus. Hazel’s gaze was on me, too, wide and uncertain. Her lips parted like she couldn’t believe I’d stepped in. Nevaeh’s smile faltered for a split second before she recovered, tilting her head.

“What?” she asked, feigning confusion.

I raised an eyebrow, my expression calm but my tone firm.

“It’s a game, not an interrogation.”

The group murmured, a few people nodding in agreement, while Nevaeh leaned back with a pout because someone had taken her a moment.

Hazel shot me a grateful glance before looking down at her hands in her lap. I planned to shift attention, yet another player proceeded. For the rest of the night, Nevaeh kept throwing subtle jabs at Hazel, but I stayed close, intercepting each one with an effortless charm that kept the mood light. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Nevaeh’s antics weren’t just about the game.

**

As the night deepened, the party dwindled, but a lingering mix of chatter, music, and laughter hung heavily in the lit space. My eyes swept the room from where I leaned against the wall, nursing an empty beer. I excelled at reading people and situations; my attention was on Hazel. I was starting to become a stalker.

She sat on an old couch near the edge of the room, her fairy wings askew, her head tilted back against the cushion. Her hands gripped an empty cup, fingers playing with the rim. Amidst the chaos, her diminutive stature and bearing affected me. I pushed off the wall, weaving through clusters of people until I reached her. Her eyes fluttered open when my shadow fell over her, and she groaned.

“Oh, great,” Hazel muttered, her voice slurred but still sharp enough to sting. “It’s you, again.”

I smirked, crouching down in front of her.

“Careful, Sunshine. You might hurt my feelings.”

She rolled her eyes, but something dulled the bite in her expression. Her defenses were slipping, and it caught me off guard.

“You’re so...” Hazel trailed off, frowning at me like she couldn’t find the words. She gestured with her cup before setting it on the couch beside her. “Aggravating.”

I tilted my head, intrigued.

“Aggravating, huh? That’s not news but go on.”

“You act like you don’t care,” she said, her words tumbling out now, unfiltered. “But you do. You care, and it’s confusing. And annoying.” She sighed, her cheeks flushed—whether from frustration, alcohol, or both, I wasn’t sure. “And it’s not fair how... attractive you are.”

I froze, caught off guard. I never expected her words.

“Attractive, huh?” I said, my smirk returning, though softer this time. “You’ve pointed that out more than once, Ellis.”

Hazel groaned, her hands flying up to cover her face.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” She mumbled through her fingers.

I laughed, low and warm, before settling onto the edge of the coffee table. I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees, my voice dipping into something gentler.

“Why do you fight this so hard, Hazel?” I asked, my tone free of its usual teasing edge. “What are you so afraid of?”

She lowered her hands, blinking at me as if the question had startled her. Silence settled upon the room. Her lips parted like she was about to answer, and her eyes locked onto mine in a way that made my chest tighten. A voice broke the silence before she could speak.

“Hazel!” Nevaeh’s singing tone carried across the room, and my jaw tightened as Hazel blinked and looked away, the spell broken. Nevaeh was weaving through the crowd, her glossy hair bouncing as she approached. “There you are,” she said, though her eyes flicked to me with an unreadable expression. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Hazel pushed herself up, brushing her hands against her skirt.

“I’m fine.” She blurted, her voice back to its guarded tone.

I stood too, my hand twitching to steady her.

“You sure about that?” I asked, my voice quieter now, meant only for her.

Hazel didn’t look at me as she nodded.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

She followed Nevaeh, leaving me standing there with my hands in my pockets and my jaw clenched. I watched her retreat; the conversation we didn’t get to finish lingering in the air like smoke.