Page 5 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

I turned to Joy. "Can I change my dare?"

She snorted. "Not exactly, but you can drink an entire tumbler of vodka instead."

I glared at her, then at the tumbler, and then back at Ethan's insufferable face.

I swear this party was out to get me.

"I'll drink the vodka," I said before my soul could yeet itself into another dimension.

The reaction was immediate.

Max whooped. The jocks cheered, hyping me up like I was about to do something heroic instead of something deeply regrettable. A tumbler was shoved into my hands, the liquid inside sloshing ominously.

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

This was it. My villain origin story.

I took a deep breath. Steeled my nerves. Raised the glass to my lips.

And then—

Oh.

Oh, this is awful.

The instant it hit my tongue, my entire being rebelled. It tasted like liquid fire mixed with poor decisions and regret in an instant. My throat was on fire, my eyes were watering, and I was pretty sure my ancestors looked on in horror.

"Why do people drink this?!" I wheezed, voice at least three octaves higher than its normal pitch.

The crowd? Losing their minds. Max was howling. Joy was clutching her stomach, barely breathing through her laughter. Shun looked like she was considering adopting me out of pity.

Meanwhile, I was dying.

I forced another sip—it seemed like I had to finish it—and my tongue promptly went numb. My stomach was certain it had been poisoned.

Ethan leaned in slightly, his voice oozing amusement. "You okay there, champ?"

"Do I look okay?" I rasped, clutching the glass like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.

Max clapped me on the back—way too hard. "You're doing great, buddy!"

No, I was not doing great, Max.

By some miracle, or pure stubbornness, I drained the tumbler. Setting it down, I let out a very dramatic gasp as the room tilted a little. The crowd went wild-cheering, like I'd just taken the Olympic gold medal in Miserable Life Choices.

"Never again," I wheezed.

The floor wasn't exactly spinning, but I swear it was considering it.

Joy wiped tears from her eyes. "Oh my god, that was the best thing I've ever witnessed."

"Glad I could suffer for your entertainment," I muttered, rubbing my temples. My face was hot, my throat still on fire. Was this how I died?

The game moved on before I'd fully processed my life choices. Dares blurred together in a whirlwind of laughing and shouting, the challenges becoming progressively more outrageous. A vampire had to confess their darkest, deepest secret; it was that they actually enjoyed garlic—apparently quite the scandal. A werewolf had to howl the school anthem. Joy had to dance with a floating broom for a full minute, her eyes never leaving it.

And then—

Ethan's turn.

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