Chapter 1: The Dare That Changed Everything

Everyone thought... I had a secret crush on Carter Maddox. That’s what they whispered, anyway. Sometimes I caught myself wondering if it was true, just because everyone else seemed so sure. My stomach always did a weird flip whenever someone brought it up—like I was in on a joke no one had actually told me.

Rumors spread like wildfire in small towns, and honestly, at our school, nothing traveled faster than gossip about Carter. He had that kind of presence—loud, cocky, the sort of guy who filled a room just by walking in, even if he barely tried. I never bothered to correct anyone; it was just easier to let them believe what they wanted. Less exhausting, too.

After he lost a game of Truth or Dare, everyone started egging me on to kiss the basketball captain from the neighboring high school for him. I guess the logic was that since Carter had lost, and Mason was sitting right there, it’d be funny to make me do the dare “for” Carter—because everyone thought I’d do anything for him. Sometimes I wondered if they actually believed it, or just liked to watch me squirm.

The air was thick with anticipation—the kind you could almost taste—greasy pizza, cheap cologne, and a hint of teenage bravado. It was classic Friday night stuff. My hands felt clammy as I wiped them on my jeans, heart thudding in my ears.

God, I was so nervous—my breathing was all over the place.

My chest rose and fell like I’d just run a mile, even though I was rooted to the spot. Go figure. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, and I tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

"Lila, it's just a kiss, it's not like it's gonna kill you. What are you freaking out about?"

Someone—probably Jamie—nudged me with an elbow, grinning. Like this was the highlight of her night or something. The others chimed in, their voices overlapping, the laughter a little too loud.

"Come on, relax... even if you kiss him, Carter won't care."

I could feel Carter’s eyes on me, that lazy half-smirk he always wore whenever he thought he was winning. The room was buzzing, the old pizza place’s neon sign flickering outside the window.

Carter teased me in his usual lazy drawl: "Yeah, Lila, help me out, okay?" He stretched his arms behind his head, like it was all a big joke. He always did this. His tone was casual, but I caught the flicker of something sharp in his eyes—a dare within a dare.

He was so sure I’d say no. I always did.

Carter always bet on my shyness. He had no idea I could surprise him.

But I quietly said, "Okay." I couldn’t believe I’d said it.

The word slipped out before I could stop it. For a split second, dead silence. Every eye on me.

Carter's face darkened a little, his mouth tightening. He tried to cover his surprise with a smirk, but the set of his jaw gave him away. He tried to cover his surprise with a smirk, but the set of his jaw gave him away. Was I the only one who noticed? The way his fingers tapped the tabletop. Like he was nervous, too.

"See, I told you she'd do anything for Carter."

Someone whooped. Another whistled. Their eyes were all on me, the weight of their expectations pressing down.

"Carter's the man. How'd you manage to tame Lila?" I let it roll off. I just focused on my breathing.

Under their smug gazes, I slowly walked over to Mason Rivera, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him on the lips. Just like that.

It was as if the whole world slowed down for those three seconds. Mason tasted faintly of Dr. Pepper and cinnamon gum. The room erupted in shouts and laughter, but all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart.

Nothing ever fazed Carter. Not fights, not tears, not even teachers losing it.

But tonight? He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

But tonight, after losing a game in the back room at the pizza place, he actually picked Truth.

The light from the arcade machines flashed across his face. He looked older. Almost tired. For a second, he seemed smaller than usual, like he was bracing for something he didn’t want to admit.

Someone asked if, in the past three years, he'd ever had feelings for me. The question hung in the air, heavier than the greasy pizza smell. Everyone leaned in. Waiting for Carter to crack a joke. But for once, he hesitated.

(none)

Phones were out, fingers poised to record or text the moment to the group chat. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion—nobody looked away.

He was stunned. Then—eyebrows up, that grin back in place.

He recovered fast, like always. His grin was all teeth, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not this time.

"Who are you talking about? Lila? Feelings?" He let out a short, barking laugh. Playing it cool.

The others howled, smacking the table. Egging him on.

Everyone lost it.

The staff behind the counter glanced over. Friday night regulars.

Only two of us stayed silent.

The laughter faded in my ears. I stared down at my half-eaten slice, picking at the crust. Mason, sitting next to Carter, kept his gaze fixed on his plate. He didn’t look up.

(none)

Untouched by the noise. The two of us seemed to exist in a bubble. I wondered if he felt as out of place as I did.

Lincoln High’s captain. The school across town.

He had a quiet confidence, the kind that didn’t need to shout. I’d watched him on the court—steady, focused, always in control. Unlike Carter.

Tonight's dinner was organized by Carter after the game. That was his thing.

I knew I didn’t fit in. But I wanted to be there.

I picked at my food, laughed when everyone else did. But I was on the outside.

People went back to eating. Someone put on music. For a moment, it almost felt normal.

He never liked losing. He scowled at the screen, then shoved his phone in his pocket with a huff. He hated losing.

Of course he did.

Show-off. Always.

Of course.

Everyone craned their necks. Tension thick enough to cut.

Of all people.

A beat of silence. Waiting for the punchline.

He didn’t even flinch, just stabbed another piece of pizza with his fork. Unbothered.

He said it with a laugh, but there was a challenge in his voice.

His answer was calm, almost amused. Table erupted again.

They were relentless. Voices overlapping.

Someone snickered.

His eyes flicked to me.

I stayed quiet.

Please don’t notice.

The words stung.

In. Out. In. Out.

Just breathe.

He stretched out his legs, looking bored. But his fingers drummed on the table.

He was sure I wouldn't agree, knowing how shy I was.

Just this once.

I couldn’t believe I’d said it.

Dead silence.

He tried to play it cool, but I saw the way his jaw clenched, the muscle twitching just beneath his skin. He was rattled.

Not this time.

Their words washed over me, but I focused on the task at hand. I wasn’t doing this for them—or for Carter.

Each step felt like walking through molasses. My palms were sweaty.

He was so handsome. Not a single flaw.

Just for a second.

I worried I’d mess up his good looks.

Probably.

Don’t stare.

What now?

Wait, did Carter say where to kiss?

I replayed his words in my head, searching for a loophole.

Of course not.

No one had specified—the rules were always just vague enough to cause trouble.

So does that mean the cheek or lips are both fine?

Was he hoping I’d go for it?

I leaned in, aiming for his cheek. But at the last second, I kissed him on the lips.

It was quick, but not rushed—a real kiss, not just a peck. The world seemed to tilt for a moment, the noise fading into the background.

Mason's long eyelashes trembled slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing gently.

He didn’t pull away, just blinked at me, surprised but not upset. I wondered if he’d remember this moment as clearly as I would. Probably not.

The table exploded.

The table exploded with shouts, some people standing up to get a better look. Someone dropped their phone, and it clattered to the floor.

"Whoa! Lila!" Everyone shouting at once.

"Three seconds!"

"Three."

"Two."

"Two point five."

"Two point three."

"Two point two."

The countdown was chaotic, voices tripping over each other. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

Mason's lips were so soft, I was so nervous my whole body was shaking.

I could barely feel my legs. My hands trembled as I tried to steady myself against the table.

"Two point one five..."

Carter slammed his hand on the table. Enough.

He slammed his hand on the table, the sound sharp and final. The room fell silent.

"Three seconds are up, it's over." His voice was clipped, and I could hear the edge in it.

The touch was rough, not unkind but definitely possessive. I stumbled back, catching my breath.

No one wanted to be the target of his anger. The rest of the meal passed in awkward silence, the earlier excitement gone.

On the way back. The car ride was tense.

The car ride was tense, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional squeak of Carter’s sneakers against the pedals. I stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur by.

Carter drove in silence. Then:

His voice cut through the quiet, low and almost accusing.

"Lila, you're getting back at me, aren't you?"

I pulled myself out of my thoughts. "What?"

I turned to look at him, surprised by the question.

"That day I kissed someone else outside the dorm, you saw it, right? So today you used Mason to get back at me?"

He glanced over, eyes narrowed. There was something almost vulnerable in his tone, like he wanted me to admit to caring.

"You're so petty, I was just messing around."

He snorted, shaking his head. I could tell he didn’t really believe it.

Kissing?

The memory flashed in my mind—Carter outside the dorm, arms wrapped around some girl, kissing her like he owned the world.

Thinking back to a week ago, I went to drop something off for Carter and saw him with a pretty girl, kissing passionately outside the dorm building.

It was broad daylight, and he didn’t care who saw. I watched from a distance, feeling oddly detached.

Carter was always bold.

That was Carter—never one to hide, always chasing the next thrill.

It fit him.