Page 27 of The Beach House
“Truth.”
“Your most embarrassing moment. And don’t spare us any details.”
Maria’s olive cheeks turned pink. “Right. Okay. Ugh, I hate you for this. Right. So in my sophomore year of high school, some kid tripped me up in the canteen and I, um, I spilled my lunch all over the head cheerleader.”
“It doesn’t stop there.” Jess giggled. “Go on.”
Maria shot her a glare, but smiled a little. “My pants ripped when I fell.”
There was a moment of silence. Then we all burst out laughing.
“Oh my gosh,” I gasped. “Are you serious?”
“Honestly, girl, I wish I wasn’t. My turn,” Maria said. “But, Jess, I am going to get you back for that one later. Hmm, who should I…Miles.”
“Yep.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“I dare you…to…Oh, God, I’m terrible at dares! Someone else think of one.”
“I’ve got one,” a boy called Hunter put in. “See those guys over there?” He pointed and we all looked around. Miles nodded. “Go pants one of them.”
Miles’s eyebrows went up. “Those guys are huge.”
Hunter shrugged. “Probably drunk, though.”
Miles sighed. “If I get a black eye, dude, you are so getting your ass kicked.”
We all watched as Miles walked over to the group of guys. He kept looking back over his shoulder like he was expecting one of us to tell him he didn’t have to go through with the dare. But the guys didn’t notice him as he got closer.
Then, in one hurried motion, he yanked the khakis of the closest guy down and spun round, sprinting for the safety of our little campfire so fast he fell face-first into the sand and did a forward roll. My eyes widened in panic as I wondered if he was all right.
He was back on his feet in a second, though, and his legs flailed around madly as he made his way toward us. The guy whose pants were now round his ankles was either too stunned or simply too drunk to pull them back up before trying to run after Miles. At that point, I had to laugh. Lee fell off the log because he was laughing so hard, and I wasn’t the only one clutching my sides as Miles collapsed back in his spot.
“My…turn,” he panted. “Nathan, truth or dare?”
And on it went. After we cracked open the supplies Jess had brought along to make s’mores, Lee was dared to fit as many marshmallows in his mouth as he could. (For the record, it was fourteen.) I had a truth—what was my first kiss? It was fun, though, and when it came to truths, I didn’t have a problem with sharing stuff with these random people, however embarrassing. I would probably never see them again, so why should I care what they thought of me?
Everything was going great until Hunter said, “Elle. Truth or dare?”
And I replied, “Dare. No! No, wait, truth!”
“Too late,” Kory said in an irritating singsong voice. “You already said dare.”
“I dare you,” Hunter said, “to go skinny-dipping.”
I blinked. Then I blinked again. Eventually, I said, “Huh?”
“You know, skinny-dipping,” he repeated. “In the sea.”
I looked round, over my shoulder, at the sea. It was as dark as the sky; the only way I could distinguish between them was by the white, foamy tips of waves.
“Um,” I said, fiddling with the zipper on my hoodie. “Yeah, no thanks.” It was pitch-black out there—not to mention freezing in the water. And I was not about toactuallyskinny-dip. I’d almost tried to at one of Lee and Noah’s parties once, after too many drinks. I’d never been so embarrassed.
Lee piped up, “There’s no way she’s doing that. What if she drowned? Are you as big an idiot as you look?”
