That one gets a round of looks, including a not-so-subtle glance from Alfie. Delilah sips her drink without blinking, but her cheeks flush a little deeper.
I smirk into my cup, I want to know this story. And I want to know if she’s down to kiss somebody on campus,why hasn’t it been me?
We go around a few more times. Some of the questions are tame, some downright insane. Thanks to Alex’s “Never have I ever had a sex dream about Ethan” curveball, where way too many people drank, for the first time in weeks, Ethan’s laughing again.
It feels like the old him. Like maybe we’re finding our way back. I sneak another look at Delilah.God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
She’s watching the group like she’s not used to being part of something like this. Her smile is a little too careful. Like she’s waiting for the moment it’ll all get taken away.
So I nudge her with my elbow.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She turns to look at me, and her eyes are bright, and a little surprised.
“I’m fine,” she says. “It’s just… a lot of energy in here.”
“Yeah, we’re not great at chill,” I say. “But you’re holding your own.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not some fragile little kitten, Hawkins.”
“No, Mittens,” I murmur. “You’re definitely not that.”
The next question goes around, something wild about skinny dipping, and she ducks her head, sipping her drink with a smirk.
But when she laughs again, full body, no hesitation, I catch Tara watching her from across the room. My sisternudges Alfie and says something I can’t hear. But she’s smiling. Everyone’s smiling. And Delilah, for the first time in weeks, doesn’t look like she’s halfway out the door. She looks like shemightwant to stay.
“Truth or dare?”
Freddie grins at me over the rim of his drink, eyes just a little too sharp for someone who’s had as much to drink as he has.
I smirk, leaning back against the couch. “Dare, obviously.”
Alex groans. “I still hate this stupid game.”
“Truth is for cowards,” I say.
The room laughs. Tara’s curled up with her head on Alfie’s lap, Ethan’s on the floor with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a burrito, and Delilah’s still beside me, legs stretched out, drink cradled between both hands.
Freddie taps his chin, thinking. “Alright. I dare you to… text someone in your contacts that you have a crush on.”
There’s a ripple of noise across the room. Ethan chokes on his drink.
“Oh, come on.” I scoff. “That’s a trap.”
“Nope.” Freddie grins. “It’s a challenge.”
“Troy Hawkins doesn’t do crushes,” I say flatly.
Alfie, lifts his glass and murmurs, “Wow. That’s healthy.”
I shoot him a look.
“Alright,” I say, reaching for my phone. “You want me to text someone I’ve got a crush on?”
Freddie spreads his hands like be my guest. The room watches in total silence.
I scroll. Tap. Type. And hit send.
