One girl grinned. “You could go in the closet. If you don’t want an audience.”
More laughter. This was the punchline to some private joke. Dare’s jaw clenched.
Then he stood up, brushed imaginary dust off his swimtrunks, and said, “Whatever. Let’s go.” His voice was cool, but his eyes burned, daring anyone to laugh again.
He reached for my hand, and I took it gratefully. It was warm, solid, and reassuring. A familiar anchor when everything around me was falling away.
I followed him down the hallway, surrounded by teasing voices and whispers behind hands. Someone called out, “We’re counting! Five minutes!”
Dare rolled his eyes. “We’ll kiss. Chill.”
He pulled me into the coat closet, and the door shut behind us with a solid click, plunging us into darkness. The only light was a sliver creeping in beneath the door.
We sank into a sitting position, facing each other. The closet was so cramped that our knees folded on top of each other’s.
I recognized the clean mix of fabric softener and leather. Someone’s winter coat tickled the back of my neck. Dare’s shallow breaths cut through the darkness.
Could he hear my heart pounding? Because I could hear his.
Or maybe that was mine echoing in my ears.
We didn’t speak at first. Just sat there, stunned, listening to the distant voices outside the door. Laughter. A countdown. The bass line of a song pulsing through the floorboards.
He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes closed, wanting to be anywhere else. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to sit without touching him, and didn’t really want to try.
“So,” I whispered.
He cracked an eye open. “So.”
“We’re really doing this?”
He shrugged, his gaze landing on everything except me. “We just have to pretend.”
“Pretend?”
“Yeah. Make it sound good. Come out blushing or whatever with messy hair.”
“Right.”
I nodded slowly, but my mouth dried up like I’d swallowed sand. Heat crawled up my neck, making my ears ring.
“Do you think they’ll know if we don’t actually kiss?” I asked, barely louder than a breath.
Dare finally looked at me. Right at me. “Probably.”
I nodded again, biting my lip. My chest tightened, and a sick feeling swirled in my stomach, making me second-guess that pizza.
“Maybe we should,” I suggested.
His brow furrowed. “Should what?”
“Actually kiss.”
He blinked, as if he hadn’t heard me right.
“You know,” I mumbled, throat tight, “just in case.”
The words hung there, heavy and impossible to take back.
