The Dare

“That guy?” I ask nervously. 

“Yes, that guy!” Cece yells over the music. I sigh as my stomach churns nervously. We are out for Cece’s Bachelorette party and Sara, another bridesmaid, brought a deck of Truth or Dare cards designed for bachelorette parties. As luck would have it, I’ve been dared to “kiss a stranger of the bride’s choosing.” Great. 

She points to a tall guy with black hair standing near the bar. He’s holding a bottled beer and talking to a blonde guy with colorful tattoo sleeves down both arms. My assignment has big, dark-framed glasses on, a five o’clock shadow and his hair is long enough on top to show it’s wavy and unruly. My stomach does another flip. He’s cute. He’s a guy I would see from across the room and think, ‘If i was braver, I’d go talk to him.’ 

Our outdoor bar has a live, classic rock cover band playing “Come Sail Away” making it hard to hear, but dancing comes easily. Summer in Mississippi can be humid, but it’s early enough in the season that the night is warm and crisp and smells like alcohol, sweat, and a little bit of salt from the ocean just a couple blocks away.

“Come on, Cece… I can’t kiss a stranger.” I take another sip of my white wine Sangria. 

“Yes, you can!” She pats my arm, beaming. Her white veil and plastic silver crown sit a little crooked on her blonde curly updo that has started to come loose. She looks fabulous in her white lace jumpsuit, golden sash and matching gold pumps. “It’s my night! And the rules are you have to do the dare! Right ladies?” She calls to our group on the dance floor. They all cheer obnoxiously and a few people look our way. Dark hair, glasses guy even glances over. My stomach does another flip as we briefly make eye contact. “Or you have to take a double shot of Jager.” I grimace. She knows how much I hate Jager. 

“You’re the worst.” I say. 

“At least he’s cute!” She grins wickedly. 

“Okay, fine.” I nod, trying to smile and gather up courage. 

“You have 30 seconds to get your booty over there or I initiate for you.” Cece says. 

“Booty?” I grin.

“Yes, booty!” She cackles “Now, which would be more embarrassing?” Cece and I have been friends since second grade when a boy in our class told me I looked like Pippi Longstocking with my pigtails and red hair. Looking back, he was probably right and it wasn’t meant to be an insult, but Cece walked right up and punched him in the face. She got suspended for two days. Some things just instantly make you best friends for life and punching a boy is apparently one of those things. 

I imagine her going over and talking to this guy for me, explaining the situation. He’d probably ask why he doesn’t get to kiss her instead. And then she would say no, it was my dare, she’s engaged and he would look disappointed because, for the past twenty years, men have preferred Cece. And I’d just look like an idiot who couldn’t do the dare by myself.

“Okay, fine.” I square my shoulders, toss my not-as-red-as-when-the-kid-called-me-Pippi, more-of-an auburn-now hair behind my shoulder, and smooth out my dress. 

“Hold on.” Cece grabs my arm. “Fix your girls.” She grabs my wine pointing at my chest. 

I look down at my breasts. Normally they’re not so visible, but I went with a low cut, black shift dress and bright pink heels for the occasion. I lift them a little, so my minimal cleavage shows. Being five-ten and an avid runner, my legs are my best feature, and still look good in this dress, but not as noticeable with the crowd. Cece tilts her head. 

“That’s a little better.” She says slowly. 

“Gee, thanks.” I say flatly, grabbing my wine glass, taking a big gulp, and turning back to my assignment. 

“Go get ‘em!” She slaps my butt as I walk away. I wince, shaking slightly with nerves. 

I don’t think I’ve ever kissed a complete stranger, let alone straight up ask for a kiss. Even my kissing of non-strangers is limited. My most recent ex and I broke up last Fall and I’ve been on two dates since. Neither made it to the kissing phase. 

I decide to just tell the guy what’s going on. He’s a dude, he will be into it, right? I’ll say I’ve been dared to kiss a stranger by my friend, gesture to Cece, and then he will let me kiss him and I’ll leave. Boom! Dare complete. 

Maneuvering through the crowd, I’m directly behind him and tattooed sleeves guy when I get bumped. Hard. The heels I’m wearing do nothing to help the situation as I smash into his back and my simple, charismatic plan goes out the window. He jerks forward and his friend reaches out to catch us. That mostly works, but unfortunately, my wine glass is not saved and it crashes to the floor, shattering. We all jump back. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Tattoo guy yells at the person that bumped me. 

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.” I say, grabbing the arm of the guy I practically tackled. I steady myself as he turns to look at me. And my breath catches. I’ve never had my breath taken away before, I always thought that was a made-up thing, but now I understand. It feels like being punched right in the chest. Up close he is WAY more attractive than I thought. I mean, I figured he was cute because Cece would not be mean enough to pick an ugly guy, but MY GOD. He’s taller than me, which is saying something since I’m wearing heels, the arm I’m holding is very toned, and behind the glasses, his eyes are so blue they look transparent in the dim, flashing lights. 

I need to just walk away before this gets worse. Fuck the plan. 

I jerk my hands free from his arm. Slightly panicking, face burning, I glance back at Cece. She gives me the thumbs up, clearly having missed what happened through the crowd and music. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, touching my arm. I look down at his hand, feeling every particle of my being now focusing on that spot and then back at him. He pulls his hand back. 

“Yes, I’m so sorry!” I say again because all other words have left my brain. I try to smile, but I’m too mortified. I imagine it looks more like I’m grimacing at him. He smiles and of course, his teeth are perfect. A small dimple appears on one side of his smile and I melt a little more. Now we stand there awkwardly. 

“You good?” His friend interjects. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

Blue-eyed guy looks down at my broken wine glass. “We should probably tell the bartender there’s broken glass and move away from here.” 

“Good plan.” I nod.

“I got it.” His friend says and makes his way toward the bar. Blue eyes and I take a couple of steps back toward the bar as well. Now’s my chance. I take a deep breath. 

“So, I was actually coming over here to talk to you.” I say smiling and trying to ignore the enormous butterfly dancing inside me. 

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes, I was sent over here to kiss you.” Whatever he was expecting, it was not that. He stares at me for a moment, light blue eyes flashing like ice behind his glasses, blinking once, and then laughs. I giggle nervously. 

“That’s a pretty good pick-up line.” He says smiling, taking a drink of his beer. 

“I’m serious.” I say. 

“You were sent over here?” He says leaning closer to me to be heard over the music. I’m thankful he’s at least trying to play along. 

“Yeah, see it’s my friend’s Bachelorette party.” I gesture toward Cece, who miraculously looks over and waves, smiling widely and is unmistakably a bride-to-be. Her sash says so. “And we’re doing this whole Truth or Dare bar hopping thing and it’s my turn and I was dared to kiss a stranger.” My explaination comes out very quickly as Blue Eyes looks from Cece to me a lopsided grin on his face. 

“And all you have to do is kiss a stranger?” 

“Yes!” I smile, relieved he’s catching on. “I promise I don’t have any diseases or infections or anything weird.” He laughs and I immediately regret saying it. Probably shouldn’t discuss such things before kissing. 

“What if I’m married?” He asks. Shit, I hadn’t thought about that. I try to glance at his left ring finger which is holding his beer. 

“Are you?” I ask. 

“Maybe.” He shrugs. 

“Well, then you don’t have to.” I say, my heart sinking. 

“I’m not married.” He laughs, “But what if I’m into guys?” 

“Well, I can be your first girl.” I wink. He laughs, the dimple appearing again.

“I’m not gay.” 

“Why are you asking all these questions and then answering them yourself?” 

“I’m just making sure you’ve thought this through.”

“There’s not much to think through.” I’m starting to feel irritated. “We just need to kiss and I’ll leave you alone, I’m not proposing to you.” 

“Do you need photographic proof?” 

I think for a minute. “Nah, she will probably see.” I shrug glancing back to Cece, who’s conveniently not paying attention to us anymore, but dancing vigorously to “Shook Me All Night Long.” Traitor. 

“Photographic proof of what?” His tattooed friend is back. Fuck. 

“She has been dared to kiss a stranger.” Blue Eyes gestures to me. 

“Nice!” The tattooed guy says holding out a new wine for me.

“Oh!” I say surprised, “You didn’t have to get me a new one.” 

“I didn’t. The bartender just gave it to me.” He shrugs. 

“Well, thanks for bringing it to me, I guess.” taking a sip. 

“So, you have to kiss a stranger?” He takes a drink of his beer while looking at my face, I blush. “Okay, I’ll do it.” he grins. A silver tooth blinks I the light. 

“Unfortunately, my Bride-to-be picked him.” I smile back and gesture to Blue Eyes. 

“Ah, well, your loss.” he shrugs, “Any other hot bridesmaids I can hit on?” He asks, scanning the crowd. He’s also quite attractive in a rough-around-the-edges, probably rides a motorcycle, will punch a guy for you, but is secretly sensitive and sweet sort of way. 

“Yeah, they’re on the dance floor.” I nod in their direction. 

“Great! Well, hurry up and get this over with.” He says, laughing, and walks toward the dance floor. This has taken a lot longer than I had anticipated. 

I turn back to his friend, smiling suggestively. He laughs. Damn that adorable dimple. 

“Have you ever kissed a stranger?” He asks. 

“No.” I say quickly laughing nervously and taking another drink. 

“That’s what I figured.” He nods.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just don’t look like you kiss strangers.” He shrugs. 

“Well, neither do you.” I say lamely.

“Am I supposed to ask your name?” he grins.

“Mmm.” I think for a second, “No. Then the definition of ‘strangers’ becomes a little blurry, right?” 

He nods. 

“What happens if you don’t kiss a stranger?” He asks. 

“I have to do a double shot of Jager.”

He laughs. “And that is worse than kissing a stranger.” 

“Far worse!” I say, frowning. 

“I think you still need to kiss someone.” 

“Oh, great, glad we’re on the same page.” I say, trying to sound annoyed. 

“But it’s tough to find people without diseases.” 

I flush. “Oh, my god! Are you going to kiss me or not?” I ask, ignoring his comment. 

He stares at me. His blue eyes sparkle behind his glasses and in the multicolored lights his dark hair looks like it would be very nice to run my hands through. I don’t think we will get that far, but a girl can dream. He leans toward me just a little. I swallow and lean in too. We’re close enough that I can see he has a couple of freckles on his nose. He glances down at my lips. My heart has either started beating at triple speed or stopped altogether, I’m not sure which. 

“No.” He says softly, stopping. 

“No?” I say, slightly confused, hovering just a few inches away from him.

“I don’t kiss strangers.” He says. 

“Understandable.” I nod, glancing at his lips, clearing my throat and trying not to look too disappointed. 

“Can I just know your name?” He asks. I can smell his cologne and it’s making it hard to concentrate. 

“Fine.” I say, “Avery.” I swallow. 

“I’m Miles.” 

“So, now-” I start to say, but he cuts me off, by wrapping a hand around my neck, pulling me closer and pressing his lips to mine. And everything around us disappears. His lips are soft, gentle and taste like beer. As I relax into the kiss, he pulls me just a little bit closer our bodies just barely touching. My free hand rests on his chest and the butterfly in my stomach settles between my legs. We stay like that for what could be five seconds or five minutes or five years. Too soon, he pulls away and looks at me, his hand still clutching the back of my neck. His blue eyes burning. 

“There.” He says, smiling. “You have completed the dare. And if we are to remain strangers, I’m going to walk away.” And that’s what he does. He drops his hand and starts walking toward his friend, who is not on the dance floor, but by the stage talking to one of the guitarists. 

Kissing a stranger may, now, be one of my favorite things.