"Dare," I wrote on the pad.
Sandie was annoyed when I picked it instead of “Truth” again. It wasn’t what she’d planned. Not that going along with what she’d planned was in my best interests – Sandie didn’t like me much.
Sandie was annoyed when I picked it instead of “Truth” again. It wasn’t what she’d planned. Not that going along with what she’d planned was in my best interests – Sandie didn’t like me much.
Sandie liked Laura, and so did I, and Sandie knew that. And,
really, it can’t have been that hard to figure out – I can’t imagine anyone not
liking Laura. She was sweet-natured and funny and so very smart. And just
enough off of L.A.’s baseline of attractiveness to make you realize how crazy
L.A.’s baseline really was. She was slender, but athletically so, from biking
and basketball, hiking and swimming and who knows what else? And she had a
sadly rare treat for Los Angeles: lovely, small, real breasts, with no
enhancements whatsoever. She’d mentioned being self-conscious about them once
or twice, but I – to the extent that I ever let myself steal the occasional
glance – thought they were perfect. So many L.A. women have incongruous
cantaloupes teetering perilously on starvation-thin bodies. But Laura’s were
just how and where they were meant to be, like she was sculpted by wind and
waves. Her breasts flowed perfectly from the lines of her shoulders, a sweet,
harmonious counterpoint to the curve of her back.
I loved her face, too. In a city full of women who seemed to
be walking around airbrushed and washed out into eerie Barbie-doll sameness,
Laura had the intriguing planes and angles of a German-Jewish heritage and very
slightly crooked front teeth. Which meant that instead of her smile being a
practiced, insincere billboard (much like Sandie’s bright white showstopper),
Laura’s smile was a genuinely welcoming grin once you coaxed it out, and
getting her to throw her head back in unselfconscious laughter was a study in
pleasure and warmth.
In a sea of blown-out platinum blondes, Laura was somewhere
indeterminate between dirty-blonde and light brunette. I could never pin it
down, no matter how much I stared from across the room at the highlights that
corkscrewed intriguingly through her curls. Oh, that hair. She tried to tame it
into smoothness by pulling it back severely, but I liked it best when she let
her ringlets bounce free. Thinking about getting to tangle my fingers in those
lovely waves only thing that ever distracted me from Laura’s wryly witty
conversation.
And we did talk, Laura and I, at least once or twice at
every party. We’d tuck ourselves away into what Laura would always name the
Introvert’s Corner, no matter where we were, and take a break from the crowds
and noise with a little close conversation. I loved those moments. Sandie
couldn’t stand it that we did that – and as a dedicated extrovert, she couldn’t
understand why we did it. She spent most of any party trying to tempt Laura in
her own way – laughing too quickly and too hard at jokes, even mine, dominating
the conversation, invading Laura’s space, and grabbing her by the arm to take
her to meet this social prize or that one. Sandie did her best to show Laura
that she could keep her in the thick of the very highest cut of the social
whirl – and it drove her crazy when, after all that effort, Laura would quietly
bow out and cross the room for a quiet conversation with me, our foreheads
nearly touching and our lips all but brushing each others’ ears so we could
hear each other above the din.
I played it that way because I really was an introvert, of
course, maybe even a little shyer than Laura at first. But I also let her come
to me and kept our interactions to small, tantalizing doses because I was
unsure: I knew she liked me, but not if she was attracted – always a problem
when introverts collide. Laura was nice to everyone. And everyone wanted to be
near her. Sure, I sometimes thought I saw her pale blue eyes sparkle when I
entered a room, but I couldn’t be certain.
So in the meantime, I went to every party where I knew she’d
be and cherished those little slices of forehead-to-forehead conversation.
This one was Riley and Maia’s party – it was meant to be a
quiet evening of cocktails, but under Sandie’s influence, it had devolved into
“Truth or Dare” with grown, drunken women in their early 30s. I think Sandie’s
idea had been that she’d get me to admit humiliating truths in front of Laura
and chip away at my dignity. But my first truth had made the room laugh in a good
way, and the second, a ridiculous admission of fretting way too much over
whether failing to rinse out my recycling was worse or whether potentially
wasting the water was worse, made Laura say “I do the same thing.” I melted a
little, and I knew that Sandie had caught a quiet glance between us. If I let
her ask me a truth again, it would be vicious.
I’d already been reduced to the notepad and a ballpoint pen
by Sandie’s first dare: “Stay silent for the next two hours.” I guess she
figured I at least couldn’t make Laura laugh any more. True to my word, I’d
only made one sound during the last 45 minutes – a little yelp in the hallway
from the kitchen on my way back to the living room as I felt an arm slide
around my waist and a body press up against me from behind.
I turned to find Laura, and she laughed at the question in
my eyes.
“You’re a good sport,” she said. And then she leaned in and
murmured “Careful about those little noises, though, Jen. You don’t want to
have to pay a penalty.”
And then she tapped me on the nose with a fingertip and
moved on past me into the living room.
And that’s where we were as Sandie looked me up and down and
tried to figure out a dare that would reduce me in Laura’s eyes somehow.
“Let me tie you up,” Sandie finally said as her acolytes sat
on either side smirked. “To the bed in Riley and Maia’s guest room. One hour,
and any of us gets to come in and do whatever we want to you.”
As Riley, Maia, and half the other women in the room howled
in protest, I stood up, grabbed my satchel, and gave Sandie a little salute.
Play along, yes; be completely dehumanized, no. Riley stood up to stop me from
leaving as Maia moved in to negotiate. Sandie knew she’d taken things too far,
and gradually backed down.
The ladies quickly renegotiated the dare: An hour tied to
the bed in the spare room, and during that time, three people could come in:
Three people of my choosing. Sandie was back in a good position now, if a
little chastened, and now I was in a position of taking the humiliating dare
that was designed to remove me even further from the party or leaving and
losing all my good-sport cred.
I dropped my satchel and quickly pointed at Maia and Riley
as my first two picks. They were practically married, and I knew they might
mess with me in a friendly way, but they wouldn’t do anything I was
uncomfortable with. Sandie watched me, smirking, as I looked around the room
for my last pick. I didn’t know if I could stand for her to see me like that,
but I suddenly realized that knew who else at the party I trusted and who I
wanted with me. Sandie’s face was inscrutable as I pointed at Laura – we both
knew the huge risk I was taking. But maybe it was time for a real dare.
Sandie and her acolytes tied my wrists to the wrought-iron
headboard with a couple of neckties that Riley still had from her table-waiting
days while Riley and Maia stood by to make sure nothing got tied too tightly.
Even with Riley and Maia there, I felt much more vulnerable than I expected.
Sandie gave me one last smirk as she shut the door and left.
At least it was easier to stay quiet. And I still had to –
the spare room had and adjoining wall with the living room where the party was,
and it was surprisingly thin. I could keep up with the conversation with only a
few gaps in understanding. Mostly I listened to Sandie crack jokes at a frantic
pace, hoping the room would forget about me.
Maia came in first, within the first five minutes. She was a
gentle soul and she brought me two cups, one full of water, and one with a margarita
in it, and then held each for me in turn. and helped me tilt my head up so I
could sip. Then she echoed Laura and said “You’re a sport,” before she gave me
a last sip and left.
Riley came in within the next few minutes to threaten me
with tickling and magic marker moustaches, then grinned as I rolled my eyes at
her. “I’m sorry about this,” she finally said. I shrugged to let Riley know I
didn’t think it was her fault.
“Maybe Sandie doesn’t have to come to our next party.” Riley
said. And then she fluffed the pillow behind my head and left.
I had one visitor left and more than 50 minutes to go. For
the next few minutes, I only half-listened to the party through the wall.
Instead, I listened to my heart beat as I wondered what would happen next.
I didn’t have to wait long. Laura poked her head in and
smiled her beautiful crooked grin at me. I couldn’t help but smile back, and
she came all the way in and closed the door behind her. Laura took a seat by
the bed, waited for me to speak, then realized that I still couldn’t. “Well,
this is awkward,” she laughed. I smiled and rolled my eyes.
“Sorry about this,” she said after a minute. “I wouldn’t
have blamed you if you had left… But I’m glad you didn’t.” We looked at each
other until mutual shyness forced us to look away. And then I felt her stroking
her fingers through my hair and looked back into her eyes. I’d never really
liked my hair – the deep brown color was okay, but it always hung straight down
no matter what I did to it. It was nothing like Laura’s intriguing curls. But
somehow, with the soothing feeling of Laura’s fingers trailing through it, I
didn’t mind it so much.
“Your hair is so silky,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to
touch it. And now you have to let me…”
I let out a quick exhalation that was all I could do in
place of laughing and Laura let out a quick laugh with me, but she kept
smoothing her fingers through my hair. I gave into the temptation to close my
eyes in pleasure and let her stroke me like a cat for just a moment, then quickly
open them again. Had she seen it?
Laura’s fingers stopped and she studied my face for a
moment.
“Oh, what the hell,” she said. And then Laura gently took my
face in her hands and kissed me.
I didn’t manage to kiss her back for a millisecond. But then
I made up for it.
