Page 47 of Game Night: Truth or Dare

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It was all supposed to be a game—just a stupid, silly party game. I never expected to find myself face-to-face with Ben Quinn…my nemesis, my worst enemy, the guy I’ve hated since he stole my boyfriend last spring. But then a sharply-worded question reminded me that one story can have many sides, and an ill-advised dare brought me closer to Ben than I ever expected us to get. Now I’m thinking that maybe he’s not such a bad guy after all…and that working things out with him might just heal some of the wounds I’ve been carrying.

Contents

Healing Bruises

About Travis Beaudoin

Healing Bruises

“You won’t believe who’s here.”

I’d barely stepped in the door, and Bianca Wu was already on top of me, leaning in like she was about to reveal the mysteries of the universe. I fought the urge to roll my eyes—she was my best friend, after all, and occasionally the tea she spilled was worth the build-up. She was also, however, prone to drama. But I played along, drawing in a breath while I thought of a good guess.

I didn’t get the chance to answer. I’d barely parted my lips when she said, “Ben Quinn.”

She paused, waiting for my reaction. She had this gaze, this hyper intense way of looking at someone, like a bomb might go off if you didn’t respond right away, or with the correct amount of emotion.

Still…in this case, she had revealed significant news. I needed to think before I acted. I didn’t want to give anything away, not even to her. I felt myself swallow, then I nodded slowly, processing her information. Finally, I said, “Okay.”

In my brain, though, things weren’t nearly that calm. In my brain, I was having a tantrum. Ben Quinn, I thought. Benjamin Fucking Quinn, that dopey-faced, meat-headed, inked-up, man-snatching piece of shit. If I’d been holding something, I’d have thrown it.

“That’s all you have to say?” Bianca asked. She had her head cocked to the side a little, still scrutinizing me, looking for cracks in my façade. She might have been my best friend, but she wasn’t a saint—she’d let my angst provide her some entertainment.

I shrugged, and finally remembered to start unbuttoning my coat—it was like 30 degrees outside, but now that I’d entered the house, a warm dampness was already forming in my pits and the small of my back. (Only the temperature, I thought. Nothing to do with Ben the fucking Boyfriend Thief.) “He can go wherever he wants, I guess.” I slid my shoulders out of the heavy wool garment and started unwinding my scarf. “I don’t know why he’d show up here tonight, though. He’s like thirty. It’s got to be close to his bedtime.”

“He’s twenty-seven,” Bianca said, taking my coat. As soon as I’d finished de-scarfing, she grabbed me by the bicep and pulled me into a little side room off the entrance. “I asked.”

That hit me harder than I would have expected. “Wait. You talked to him?”

She had the good grace to look guilty, at least. “I was fact-finding, Ollie. I was, like, collecting data.” She turned and draped my coat on a huge ottoman, adding it to a small mountain of other people’s outerwear.

“Data?! Like he’s twenty-seven-not-thirty? Who the fuck cares? The point is, he’s old. God, I can’t believe you talked to him. You know how I feel about him. You know what he did to me.”

“But it’s like you said—” Her voice had risen in pitch, and she was standing super-straight, like she wanted to be as tall as me. I could tell she felt a little shitty, but after being ambushed with the news of Ben Quinn’s presence, it felt good to have her on the ropes. “He never goes out. Never comes to parties. Even when he was with Elliot—” I flinched. Elliot was my ex, and Ben’s ex, too, and hearing his name still stung. “—he never did anything. Just boring stuff…class, the fitness center…he actually uses those study carrels in the library! But he never goes out, you know?” She leaned in and let her voice get all quiet and heavy again. “And he’s here tonight. It’s…suspicious.” She took a deep breath like she was forcing her heart rate to slow down. “I just wanted to find out what was up before you got here. So I could warn you.”

I was still annoyed, but I didn’t want to fight a war on two fronts. This was the first big party of the spring semester, and I was already going to be on my guard about my archnemesis showing up. Staying cranky with Bianca on top of that would just stress me out. I shrugged again and draped my scarf over my coat. “Okay.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Nope.” I said it real quick, though, so she’d know I was lying. “What else did you find out?”

“Not much,” she admitted. “We only talked for a second. I said it was weird to see him out, and he kinda laughed and said he was looking to expand his horizons. And I asked him if he was having fun, and he said he was, then I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t, so after a second it just felt awkward and I left. He’s really quiet, you know? Like, he barely talks at all.”

“Because he’s an idiot,” I said. “Who even invited him? He doesn’t know anyone.”

“So, I guess he and Callie were working on a project together last year?” Callie Beacham’s parents spoiled her rotten, and they owned the house we were currently gossiping in. “She’s the student government rep for the French Club, and he’s the rep for the Veterans’ Club, and they did some fundraising thing together. She thinks he’s sweet.” Bianca rolled her eyes nearly up into her skull, which won her back a few points. “It’s like she’s adopted him.”

“All right,” I said. “Well. It’s a big house. There’ll be like a million people here. I can avoid him.”

“Exactly,” Bianca said, like she’d solved the problem. “Let’s go get you a drink.”

For a while that worked. Maybe Callie had adopted dumb-ass, corny-ass Ben Quinn, but she also knew everyone else at school. The party was packed and, like I said, the house was huge. It was too cold to hang in the yard, but people were drinking in the kitchen and dancing in the living room, and there were a couple of chill-out rooms with nice lowkey vibes. After Bianca and I got some refreshments—vodka soda for me, Midori sour for her—we ended up in one of those, a den with a crackling fireplace and a few folks sitting around, passing a vape and gossiping. I ended up sprawled on the floor with my head on Bianca’s lap. I’m not bragging, but I have really nice hair, and Bianca’s always looking for excuses to play with it. Normally, I love it, but that night I got so relaxed I nearly kept falling asleep. The last thing I needed was to wake up with fucking Sharpie on my face, so after a little while, I sat up.

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