Dare Me More

Chapter 2

Mike woke up moments after to give me a hand. He wasn’t hungover, didn’t drink enough to be on our level of f****d up – or maybe he was and managed to sober faster than us.  

    Christy remained snoring on the floor, but we managed to get a few pics of her uncanny facial expression before she woke herself up before ten. She demanded that Mike buy them all burgers since he wasn’t suffering with a headache that could hammer down a nail. Even if she didn’t look like death, a morning Christy was not to be messed with. I learned my lesson with her many, many sleepovers ago. 

    We sat on the floor in a circle where we slept. The window blew in that morning breeze, but it wasn’t cold enough to rug up.  

    “We need to do this again,” she said after munching into her third burger for the morning. Her cropped hair stood out in the back and her mascara was smudged under her eyes. I had given Mike a thumbs up when he ordered ten two-dollar burgers, five of them to Christy. That guy knew my best friend well. “I seriously missed having a night in and not paying for an Uber to come get us for once. We can just pass out on the floor with no precaution.” 

    “Dude, you only say this because I’m the one with the free room,” I said, picking out the diced onions on the inside of my bun.  

    “And walking distance to the nearest shopping centre.” 

    I rolled my eyes. “All the more reason, right?” 

    Mike dusted his hands from crumbs. “We could just hang out as yours, babe. I don’t see why we need to keep coming to Jacky’s all the time.” 

    Christy glared at Mike, and I felt myself chocking back a laugh. “Emma is only four months old. No way would Mum let us have a night like that.” 

    He sighed. “We don’t always have to drink.” 

    “Disagree,” Christy and I said. We passed each other a high-five. This time it was Mike who rolled his eyes. 

    The radio blasted an early 80’s duet song that made me think of Cole.  

    I turned to Christy, praying she didn’t tell me to f**k off this time. 

    “So, Cole texted me.” 

    She scoffed down the rest of her burger. “What for?” 

    “I apparently left him a voicemail last night.” 

    She stopped mid bite into her fourth burger, stared me down with wide blue eyes, and gasped. It was the complete opposite of her reaction early this morning. She probably had amnesia. “Shut. Up. You called Cole for that?”  

    My eyes widened. “What did you make me do? What did I say?” 

    “Exactly what I dared you to do; tell him he’s sexy and that you love it.” She dropped her burger down on its wrap, and repeated “Oh my god” for a minute to my face, squealing as she went. 

    The skin on my lip started to disappear the more I played with it. I didn’t say anything too crazy then. I couldn’t help but be relieved by that, but was that all I said? Christy didn’t say I said anything else, and a part of me wanted to believe her. However, she was making me nervous the more she carried on, going as far as to shake Mike’s arm. I had to have said something else. 

    Then she hit my thigh. 

    “Ow! All right, you can calm down.” 

    “Why didn’t you wake me up?”  

    All I wanted to do then was shove her burger into her face. 

    I crossed my arms. “Gee, maybe because you were sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

    She pouted and placed her hand over her heart. I glared. “From now on, you have permission to wake me up for this sort of emergency. I can’t imagine having to face this alone.”  

    “Yeah.” My voice was monotoned, flat. I passed her my phone. “I’ll remember that.” 

    Mike patted my shoulder in comfort. I munched on my burger in silence, taking out the frustration on the warm, onion-less burger, waiting for more screaming to emerge from Christy. 

    Except she began to type. 

    Her eyes were dangerously malicious, and she bit her top lip in focus, and I felt a warning bleeping inside my head. Or that could’ve just been my headache. Instinctively, I snatched the phone out of her hands to read what she wrote, ignoring her protest in the process. 

    I read it out loud. “‘You’re right, we need to talk. Everything I said was true, I really like you’ - Christy!” 

    “What?” she stuttered. “He wants to talk to you about it. I’m just helping your affair move faster.” 

    She made me want to poke my eyes out. Quickly, that notion died, along with any motive of wanting to see Cole. 

    Haboton was a small town clustered with people who knew about everyone and everything. Privacy wasn’t much of a secret, but I knew how to mind my own business. This thing that I have for Cole went back to when we were kids; I was nine, he was fifteen. Our elder siblings were high school sweethearts, and our families had known about each other through all the gossip from town. Back when my mum was present in my life, she would constantly tell Cole to practice being a good older brother, because our siblings would tie the knot one day, and I would be someone he needed to take care of.  

    A couple of reasons that was dumb as s**t: one, Mum didn’t even bother sticking around in the end; two, I hadn’t needed Cole to take care of me since we were teenagers. As for our siblings getting married...that hadn’t happened yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before Joanne sent me a text. Or maybe from Singapore, where her and Zachary would be going in a few weeks.  

    It didn’t matter when they were to be engaged, it was the principal this town had for itself; dating my sister’s boyfriend’s brother would be frowned upon by the town, an affair paralleled with cheating.  

    I didn’t want to start the whole ‘teacher-student’ concept. That was a clear, definite no-no crossing zone. 

    Even if Cole and I ever dated, it would need to be kept a secret until it either fell flat on its face, or we moved and become famous actors that Hollywood could only dream about having... 

    My head fell in hand. My brain did this thing where it envisioned a charismatic and luxurious acting career when I felt down about the possibility of Cole and I being nothing more than good friends. Almost like it was impossible to believe I could have both 

    Mike clicked his tongue at Christy. “Babe, lay off with it.” 

    “I’m just trying to help.” 

    I waved them both off. “No, it’s fine, I’m just being moody about it. You know how it goes: wanting what you can’t have and being salty about it. We’re just friends, and I need to start thinking that way whenever I think about him.” 

    The radio filled up the silence between the three of us. The burger didn’t taste that good anymore, yet it satisfied the craving on my taste buds, washing away the remains of alcohol stuck on my tongue. 

    A wrapped-up cheeseburger fell into my lap. Mike offered me a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “f*****g post-hangovers, am I right?” 

    “Too true,” I said, unraveling the burger and picking out the diced onions. 

    Just then, Christy slid over and rested her head on my shoulder, her last burger still in its wrappings. “I’m gonna be that friend.” 

    “I don’t expect you to be anyone else,” I replied. “Spill.” 

    “He said he wants to talk, and you haven’t given him a reply. If I were you, I’d make plans to see him, get your school-book-thing off him–” 

    “–Textbook, Christy–” 

    “–And take it from there.” 

    “Right.” I arched a brow. “Easy solution.” 

  She sat up, took a napkin from the pile in the middle, and swiped the onions away in a couple of swipes. “Sometimes the easiest solutions are the ones we don’t want to acknowledge at first.” 

    Mike and I both stared at Christy, mouth wide opened.  

    “Where the f**k did you learn that?” I asked, just as Mike said in awe, “That was gold, babe.”  

    She shrugged like it was nothing. “I felt like being the inspirational one for once. Plus, there’s been heaps of inspirational quotes online. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. Post-hangovers. Now, come on, girl, what are you waiting for? Plan to meet with him already.” 

    Christy had a way of making me move. It could just be a best friend moment people sometimes have when they have the right support by their side.  

    Mike moved over to the other side of me, watching along with Christy. I thought for a moment about pushing them away to get my bearings, but like magnets they’d follow. With shaky hands I typed out a message: 

            >11:11am >Me: Meet me at the café across from my place. Please bring the textbook, I desperately need it for tomorrow. 

    Christy wrinkled her nose. “You didn’t pick out a time. And since when do you capitalise?” 

    Mike pointed at something on my screen. “I wouldn’t have used the word desperately. You’ve already told the guy he’s sexy. If I were him, and you said you just wanted to be friends, I wouldn’t believe you.” 

    “Well, you’re not him,” I said, scrolling through the messages Cole and I have sent each other recently. I get stuck at the message from this morning. 

    His reply was almost instant. 

    “Oh, he’s cool about it.” Christy’s surprise made me feel smudged. I might talk differently to Cole than I would my friends, but he’s still my teacher, and I knew my boundaries.  

    I thought I did. 

Cole and I agreed to meet at the café within the hour. The designated time was perfect, giving me plenty of time for a quick shower.  

    “While I’m gone you guys can finish cleaning up the place.” 

    Christy groaned, her head falling back on the floor. “Can’t we just lie here until you come back?” 

    “Dude,” I said while grabbing a towel from my closet and clothes to change into. “There isn’t that much to do.” 

    “I’m too tried for this, girl.” 

    Christy sighed and stomped her way around the room, throwing the wrappings of our burgers into little plastic bags.  

    Washing away last night’s sweat and old makeup, I thought over what I would say to Cole. I could immediately apologise, tell him I didn’t mean any word of it because I was drunk, and drunk people...well, s**t. They tended to say the truth, didn’t they? No, that wouldn’t do. I could tell him that call was meant for someone else. But what if he asked who? Other than Mike and Kevin, I really didn’t associate myself with any other guys, apart from my uni peers.  

    I did my hair and makeup basic like every other day; bun, mascara, and gloss. The few pimple scars scattered around my chin made me want to cover up, but I wasn’t in the mood to play with the rest of my face. Besides, Cole had seen me bare faced before.  

    The time came to leave. Mike and Christy left when I did with a promise of meeting up again sometime soon. I looked Christy dead in the eye, told her I’d probably see her soon regardless. She laughed, gave me a tight hug. Thankfully, she didn’t smell worse than Mel, and I managed to hold my breath.  

    I made my way to the café where I worked, only a few blocks away from my apartment. I crossed the street, the heat making my skin tingle. Short sleeves and shorts were a good option today. Being out on the streets, the breeze wasn’t as strong, and I caught myself fanning my face when directly in the sun. 

    As soon as I walked in the café, the fan hit me directly, and a calm, cooling sensation came over me. A couple in matching yellow shirts faced the window, and Sammy, a waitress and my colleague, in her uniform serving large glass sizes of milkshakes. She greeted me with a smile and continued on her way. I’d be seeing her the Wednesday for our general work-catch up.  

    Coffee lit the smell of the café. I could taste the bitterness in the back of my throat. Maybe a glass of iced-coffee will do the trick for this headache of mine. 

    I found the back of Cole seated on one of the stools in front of a wide bench, hidden in the shade with a direct fan on top, and wanted to make fun of him so bad. He always hated the summer, claimed it was unbearable to live through, that living in England would be the best fit for him. It made me wonder how he survived his Sunday morning runs with his Alfo. 

    Seeing him put me in a pleasant mood. I walked towards him, trying to act as sneaky as possible, and wrapped my hands over his eyes, his shaved face scratching the palms of my hands.   

    His back arched straight. 

    “You know what you did,” I said in an old lady accent.  

    “Nanna, I promise, Zach took the last cookie!” 

    His melodramatic, vibrant voice sent me laughing. He spun in his chair, a radiating smile pulling at his cheeks, and reached out with one arm to hug me. I kept us at a reasonable distance before taking a seat beside him.  

    “Can you believe how nice and sunny it is today?” 

    Cole grimaced like I knew he would. “It’s in the middle of spring. I didn’t think it could ever get this hot.” 

    I shrugged. “Globel warming and all.” 

    “It’s ridiculous.” 

    I pointed at the green cover textbook with its mismatched fonts. “Can I have that?” 

    “You asked me to grab it for you.” 

    “Yeah, but you could just make an excuse about needing it for the next day or so. You’ve done that to me about several times by now.” 

    He took a swing of liquid from an orange mug – probably a Frappuccino with two teaspoons of sugar. “Come on, at the time it was hilarious. But don’t worry, it’s all for you. I will need it back next week when you have the chance.” 

    I slid the textbook across to me. “I only need it for my Monday’s. We have a quick test in performance techniques, but I misplaced my folder.” 

    “You mean you lost it.” 

    “I like to define it as misplaced. It’ll show up when I least expect it.” 

    Cole looked at me, sipped on his coffee. He motioned at it. “Want a drink?” 

    “I had plenty of that last night,” I said, hoping some humour could calm my nerves down. “So, don’t you worry about it.” 

    “Actually,” he said, making me freeze. “I actually am. What happened to make you get that drunk?” 

    I explained to him that it’d been a while since I last saw my friends, and we decided to catch up for drinks at my place.  

    “One thing led to another and we started playing Truth and Dare.” 

    Cole tapped his fingers against the table. “So, you were dared to call me?” 

    I controlled my breathing. “I didn’t have any clue who I was calling. I was drunk and I didn’t remember anything after a certain point in the night. I’m sorry about it all, really. I don’t want things to get awkward between us.” 

    Cole playfully shoved my shoulder. “Please. I’ve known you for a long time now, Jacky. We used to make mud pies for crying out loud.” 

    A weight was lifted off my shoulders then. It was like Cole came prepared with a wash cloth and guilt-free soap knowing I’d come in feeling remorse about the entire situation – because I was the little kid of his brother’s girlfriend. We grew up together with a long range of history between us. To destroy that over a drunk phone call would be brutal, not just for Cole and I but for our siblings, too.  

    “You went from looking relieved to thinking about Tammy.” 

    “This has nothing to do with my Pomeranian.” Poor thing had died months ago from a cold. My stomach twisted up in guilt from her memory. I should’ve seen the signs. “I actually haven’t thought about her since you mentioned her name.” 

    Cole winced. “Sorry. I’m trying to understand why you’re looking upset. Is something else going on that you wanna talk about? School? Joanne?” 

    My pride wasn’t going to mention anything to do with the voicemail anymore, so I decided that talking about my sister might be the best leeway to get out of. “She’s leaving next week,” I said, thrumming my fingers against the black spinal cord of the textbook.  

    “Another business trip. Yeah. Zach told me they’ll be gone a lot longer. Almost three weeks.” 

    “She’ll miss my birthday again, you know.”  

    Cole frowned. “We celebrated it last year.” 

    “Yeah, two weeks later. She may as well have left me a happy birthday card with a twenty inside.” 

    “She’s not your parents.”  

    He placed a hand over mine, stopping me from playing with the spinal cords. They were warm and inviting, and I knew if I flipped my hand over our fingers would interlace.  

    “You’re right.” I silently laughed to myself. “I guess I won’t have to drink to that on my birthday.” 

    The shadows formed underneath Cole’s expression. “You should stop doing that.” 

    “Doing what?” 

    He removed his hand. Despite the warmth of summer, my hand instantly felt cool. “Drinking. You should be careful about it.” 

    “I’m always careful.” 

    “Clearly you were careful last night.” 

    I frowned. His switch was giving me heat – and not the pleasant kind. “I’m always safe when I get drunk. Besides, I don’t do it very often.” 

    “You do it often enough.” 

    “Why are you criticizing me about my drinking?” 

    Cole hesitated. Usually he’d be quick on his feet with a clever dialogue that would make us think quicker. But watching his struggle for words had me shook. “Because as your teacher I need to make sure my students are well presented for class. And if you’re not able to function properly, then you’re not equipped to pass.” 

    My eyes widened. Cole didn’t just switch – he went into teacher mode.  

    “I’d never came to class unprepared,” I said, lowering my voice in the heat of the busy cluster of orders and coffee makers.  “I’ve never been intoxicated in class. You think I’d have such high distinctions if I was drunk?” 

    The question came out rhetorical, but I genuinely wanted to know what he thought about me. Except Cole stared off, his eyes hazing over. I knew him since I was nine to know he did that when he overthought. He would tune out the world and zone into whatever he was occupied with. He did that to me when we’d get into long discussions that didn’t require him to respond, and it always made me feel unheard, and I’d do my best to feign indifference. I didn’t do that now. I waited until he came to, waited until he looked me in the eye, until his focus was drawn back to me.  

    “You’re not my dad, Cole.” His eyes hardened. “f**k, you’re not technically my teacher either. You’re my friend, and that’s why I can easily talk to you, but...Come on, you didn’t need to say it like that.” 

    My good mood vanished along with any apologies that remained glued to my head. What right did he have over me? 

    I stood from my chair with a heavy heart with a textbook that felt like bricks. Cole said nothing, tapping his fingers against the table repeatedly, following my movements.  

    “Thank you for this,” I said, motioning to the textbook.  

    He forced a smile, but it didn’t come off as genuine. I hated how his acting abilities could be prosecuted through his everyday life without so much as an effort. I hated how he couldn’t show me what he really felt.  

    “Are we done for today?” he asked. 

    Only if he was. But of course my scared mind didn’t allow that to be said. “We both have things to do.” 

    I couldn’t come off any worse. 

    “I’ll see you Tuesday then,” he said, playing with the rim around his orange mug, before pulling his phone out of him pocket and began checking emails. 

    “Yeah. See you.” 

    I walked out without looking back like they did in the movies. No, I didn’t expect him to chase after me and apologies, make my heart flutter until I went home in an attempt to convince myself to get over him. I went back to my apartment, disliking who I was and what I said. Comparing him to my dad – a man who left without so much as a message – was a low blow. Not recognising him as my teacher... I shouldn’t have done that.  

    But he shouldn’t have accused me of being an alcoholic.  

    My stomach was knotting in on itself. First the drunk call, and now this?  

    I caught myself cringing as I thought about it. I should apologise when I saw him on Tuesday, maybe offer to buy him snicker bars and macrons to sweeten up... 

    “f**k it.” 

    I almost sprinted out of the apartment, down the stairs and out into the heat. Maybe he was still at the café drinking his Frappuccino.  

    The couple at the bench stayed when I first walked in. Sammy continued taking orders, and took a brief look over at me as I walked through. The seats in the back were empty with only a used orange mug left on the counter.