Truth or Dare

Hello lovelies! This is more of a romance than an erotica, and was meant for the April Fools contest, but... I got busy with publishing a very large project and completely forgot to post it. *oops* So here you go.

Content on this one is pretty tame, but it does include some light bullying.

Jeremy "Red" Hutchins

For as long as I could remember, Tilly had been the butt of our jokes.

There wasn't anything wrong with her, she was just easy to pick on. She was tall for a girl, and kind of plain looking. Not very pretty, not hot, not curvy, not skinny, just... tall, and plain. Blonde hair, brown eyes, freckles, glasses. Tall, average, and a little boring.

She was an introvert, and a serious bookwork. She was the kind of girl who would rather stay home and read or hang out in her room on a Friday night instead of going out with friends. She was the kind of girl who wore clothes to be clothed, not to look cute. She was the kind of girl who always carried around a book, and read in the hallway or on the bus instead of talking to friends, wrapping the covers in brown paper like we did with our school textbooks, like she was hiding what was on the front.

Still no idea what those books were about. But we had been teasing Tilly since she was old enough to take it.

It wasn't like we were real bullies or anything. We just messed with her a lot, but we never did anything bad. Micah had been my friend since kindergarten, and since he teased his twin sister, I did too. Then Brandon and Stevie became part of our little friend group in fourth grade, and they joined in the fun.

"Tilly, what did you do to your hair? You know hairbrushes exist, right?"

"Tilly, that shirt is the color of cat vomit... it's a good color on you."

"Tilly, you don't have any friends because all you do is read."

"Tilly, nobody wants to date a girl who is smarter than the teacher. Put the book down for five minutes."

But Tilly always ignored us, or stared at us until we were done, and then walked away, seemingly unaffected. We kept trying to get a reaction out of her, and kept pushing her father.

My older sister, Jess, had been casual friends with Tilly before Jess went off to college. Jess was home for the weekend to do laundry and sneak liquor out of mom and dad's cabinet. My friends and I were all sitting in our living room watching the game, eating popcorn, and browsing the internet when I felt a buzz under my ass. Reaching down between the cushions of the couch, I realized Jess's phone must have fallen between the cushions.

"Jackpot," I said. She thought she was clever about the code, but I'd seen her enter it enough times that I got the pattern right on the second try. My friends surrounded me to look over my shoulder as I scrolled her messages and we tried to figure out who to screw with.

We texted her boyfriend that she wanted to try anal. We texted one of her girlfriends that she was worried she was pregnant. And then as I scrolled down a little further, I saw the name Matilda.

"What kind of name is Matilda," Stevie asked.

"That's Tilly, dumbass," Micah rolled his eyes.

"Tilly's name is Matilda?"

"Yeah."

"Or is it a different Matilda? How many Matilda's are out there? Red, has Jess ever mentioned a Matilda?"

"I dunno," I said, opening the message. There weren't many recent messages and they didn't talk about much. But there was some mention of Micah and I, so we assumed it was indeed the Tilly we knew and loved messing with. The most recent message was an invitation to the party Jess was currently attending.

Jess: I'll be in town this weekend, we're going to Sharky's. Wanna come?

Tilly: I can't; I have a statistics project coming up, and a history project I want to rewrite. But thanks! Let's meet up for coffee.

"Guys, we have to mess with her," I said.

Stevie agreed. "This is the perfect opportunity. She won't know it's us."

"What should we say?"

I texted from Jess's phone: Truth or dare?

A few moments later, a response came through.

Tilly: Truth.

Jess: Who is your crush?

My friends and I snickered as the little dots from a message popped up and disappeared over and over. Micah complained about not wanting to know who his sister liked. "It better not be some douchebag," he grumbled.

Tilly: You promise you won't hate me?

Jess: Promise. Who is it?

Tilly: Okay... It's Red.

My jaw dropped and I felt my face burn. "Huh?"

"Oh man, that's even worse," Micah whined. "My sister can't like you!"

"Dude, you're not even hot," Brandon laughed.

"Shut up, I'm not that bad."

"You're a fucking ginger."

Yes, the nickname was extremely creative. I was skinny, too tall, with bony elbows, red hair, freckles, a pointy chin, and couldn't grow facial hair to save my life. I wasn't ugly, but I still fought acne, and couldn't bulk up no matter what I ate or how much I worked out.

So while my friends laughed and tried to figure out how we were going to tease the hell out of Tilly for her crush on me, I responded.

Jess: Why?

Those damn dots disappeared and reappeared for a long time, and eventually, a wall of text came through. As I read the first few sentences, I felt that familiar prickle of embarrassment on the back of my neck.

Tilly: I really like his art. He hadn't done any in a while, but I still look at it sometimes, and I know he still draws in his notebooks, even though he doesn't let anyone know. His friends are really rude about it.

I turned off the phone screen and shoved the phone in my pocket, ignoring the complaints of my friends. "No," I snapped when they continued to push me on letting them read the rest of the message. They must have sensed the change in my attitude because they let it go and went back to watching the game.

Tilly was right; I hadn't shown anyone my art in a long time. I'd posted some of it up on DeviantArt when I was younger, but I'd gotten a lot of shit from my friends, and even my parents, who didn't seem to understand it. And she was right that I still drew, but that I didn't put it online. I kept it a secret in favor of keeping my friends and not becoming one of the rejected "art kids."

"I'm getting a snack," I muttered, retreating to the kitchen to read the rest of Tilly's message. I tried to figure out why my stomach was flipping inside out, and why my hands were numb.

Tilly: I think he's really good, and smart, and he always looks at things differently. Like, I can tell he's looking at things and seeing them differently than everyone else just by the way he studies them, and I really want to see his more recent work. I bet it's amazing. He's a pretty good writer, too. We do anonymous critiques in class sometimes, and I've gotten a few of his papers before. I know they're supposed to be anonymous, but I can tell it's him because of what he writes about and how he says it. Anyway, I think he's a smart guy and he's pretty nice, when he's not hanging out with my asshole brother and their friends.

How was I supposed to answer that text? I stood there stunned, leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to figure out what to do.

If we teased her about it, she would be humiliated and embarrassed, and she didn't deserve that. Especially because she thought she was opening up to a friend.

But if we let it go and agreed not to say anything, I still had to live with the knowledge that she liked me, and I teased her regularly. Not that I was mean... but I wasn't exactly nice either. How did she even like me if I teased her? I mean, the last thing I'd said to her this afternoon when I'd picked up Micah was, "Hey bookworm, look up from your homework once in a while or your eyes will get stuck that way!"

Jess: But don't they all tease you all the time?

Tilly: Yeah. Well, they tease me because Micah teases me. I don't think they hate me, they just want a reaction. I make a point not to let them see how upset I get. I've seen the way Red talks to his teachers, and his other friends, and he's a good guy. You know he goes to the soup kitchen every Sunday morning to volunteer, right?

Her words ran on repeat in my head. I make a point not to let them see how upset I get. How upset did she get when we messed with her?

I closed the phone again and ran my hand through my mess of bright red hair. This prank hadn't gone the way I'd expected it to. I was about to say something to my buddies about not teasing her anymore, at least about the crush, when the phone buzzed again.

Tilly: Please don't be mad at me... I know it's weird that I like your kid brother. I'm not in love with him or anything... I just *like* him. That's all.

Jess: don't see why. He's an ugly little shit.

I couldn't resist, okay? I needed to know.

Tilly: No he's not. He's cute, and a little gangly... but I think he'll grow into himself. Your dad did.

Tilly: and that DOES NOT MEAN I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOUR DAD. Because I know that's what you're about to say! I just mean, he's an attractive guy, and Red looks a lot like him.

Well fuck. Now I really felt like a jerk. Tilly liked my art, and my writing, and she thought I was cute. And I... called her names and told her nobody wanted to date a girl who was the smartest person in the room.

Jess: Okay... I'm not mad, but we are going to pretend we never had this conversation.

Tilly: Deal.

Deleting the messages and turning off the screen again, I went back into the living room. "We are not mentioning this conversation to Tilly, and we are not teasing her about it." I collapsed on the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table.

"It's just a crush, dude, she'll get over it."

"Do you like her back?"

"Uh-oh, he does! Dude, you can't like Tilly--"

"I don't like Tilly!" I snapped, and my voice was harsher than I meant it to be. They quieted and looked at me. "But she claims she likes me, and the reasons she gave were... honest, and nice. And I don't think we should make fun of her for being nice. So drop it, don't mention it again, and for fuck's sake, don't tell her it was us on the other end of Jess's phone."

Nobody mentioned Tilly for the rest of the night.

***

Prom was a little over a month later. My friends and I had successfully avoided the topic of Tilly's crush, at least for the time being. We had also eased up on her a little, but that may have been because she was avoiding us more than normal.

It was extremely awkward even being around Tilly the past few weeks. She was none the wiser of the conversation, and I'd deleted it off Jess's phone, praying they didn't meet up and talk about it. The other guys had teased her a little here and there, but all in all, we'd eased up on her quite a bit. But the weirdest thing was how I felt about her.

I still didn't think she was very pretty. I still didn't really feel anything for her, or against her. She was just Tilly. She was just there. But I noticed two things; the first was I realized I barely knew anything about her, even though she seemed to know a lot about me. And the second? Knowing someone had a crush on you was a weird feeling.

I hadn't seen her yet tonight, and I was a little anxious about it. Was she even here? Did she have a date? Was she over her crush on me? "Dude," I asked Micah. "Is your sister here?"

"Yeah, she's right over there," he nodded to a group of girls in formal dresses. "Why," he laughed. "You gonna dance with her?"

"Hell no," I said, rolling my eyes, but still glanced over to the group of girls.

I was a little started at what I found.

Tilly looked so different that I hadn't recognized her at all. She normally wore jeans or sweatpants, and a messy bun on top of her head. Tonight, her plain, long blonde hair was shiny and curled, styled up on top of her head and falling around her face in pretty ringlets. I'd never once seen her in makeup, but she clearly had help getting ready, because her eyes were done up all smokey and gray at the edges, which just made them look dark and mysterious. She wasn't wearing her glasses, and it added to the mysterious allure. She wore a shiny blue sleeveless dress that went from light blue on the top to dark blue at the bottom, with sparkles or beads all down the front, and made her look like a walking galaxy.

And... shit. Did Tilly have curves?

"Fuck," Brandon said. "Since when has your sister had an ass?"

"Fuck you," Micah shot back. "She's not hot."

"No," I said. "She's gorgeous."

She was. Denying it would be a lie.

I avoided Tilly all night, but couldn't get her out of my head, so that night when I went home, I took out one of my notebooks, flipped to a blank page, and began to draw.

Tilly

Prom sucked. I expected as much, because I didn't really have any friends at school, and wasn't much for parties, but here I was, hoping it would be different because it was prom. Nope. Still the same shit.

The only good thing that happened that night, was what didn't happen. For the past few weeks, my asshole brother and his asshole friends had been less assholish than normal. And honestly, it was a huge relief. I'd half expected them to follow me around all night and mouth off until I snapped. But no, they'd stayed on the other side of the room, ignoring me. Thank God.

I didn't miss their teasing, but I did miss at least being noticed by Red. He'd never been especially cruel, but lately, it felt like he'd purposefully ignored me. And even though I didn't like his teasing, I had at least liked it when he'd looked at me with that rakish smirk, and messy hair, and glittery blue eyes, and said something snarky about me being a nerd. He might not have liked me, but at least he knew I was smarter than him. At least he knew I existed, and I got to hear his voice say my name once in a while.

Red was a nice guy to everyone else. And he wasn't that bad to me. His words were usually teasing, not hurtful. He teased me about my collection of men's jeans and graphic tshirts, and I hoped it meant he liked them. He teased me about reading books bigger than me, and I hoped it meant he thought I was clever. He teased me, and I'd never seen him tease anyone else. And I sometimes hoped... but I knew better.

See there was this one time when we were in second grade, when he'd given me his new pencil that he'd won from the prize box, because someone had broken mine. And I think I started romanticizing him after that.

I was hopeless and stupid, and fully aware of it. That was the downside to reading so many romance novels. But at least I didn't have any expectations that he would ever legitimately like me. I knew he wasn't interested.

Still, I didn't think anything of the lessened bullying, and tried to appreciate the fact that I wasn't being made fun of every time I walked past them anymore, rather than miss his attention. Honestly, it didn't matter much... We were all graduating in a month anyway.

***

I graduated high school and was enjoying my first semester of college, though to be honest, it felt a little underwhelming. It was a huge campus with tons of people, and I spent most of my time in the library, or in the English department, or outside in the courtyard staring up at the stunning mountain peaks. I found myself with a lot of free time for extra projects, reading, and research, and I even joined a few clubs. But sometime in late September was when things got weird.

My brother and I were fraternal twins and were the exception to most twin rules; we weren't friends, and we barely tolerated each other. Luckily, he had gone to a university on the coastline, a wonderful ten hours away from me, and Stevie and Red had gone as well. Brandon had gone off to some university in South Carolina, good riddance.

On paper, I had accepted the offer to the university because of the free ride and the guaranteed paid internship, but in reality I couldn't have cared less where I went. I wanted freedom, and I needed to get out of our tiny North Carolina speck-on-the-map town and be on my own as soon as possible, so off I went to take classes, make new friends, and write my novels.

It was a Saturday morning, and I was sitting in the library on a chilly September morning and waiting for my name to be called at the coffee kiosk, when I got an email notification from DeviantArt. RedSky had just uploaded a new work.

That's odd, I thought. He hasn't uploaded anything in a long time. I hurried to log on and see what it was, and gasped when I saw it.

Instead of a photo of a drawing in his sketchbook, as had been his habit in middle and high school, it was a digital piece, clearly drawn with some kind of digital art software. The drawing was of a silky elegant dress, seeming made up of outer space itself. A glittering outline created the illusion of the dress. Black and dark blue, splashes of silver and purple, and a burst of gold created a night sky and stars that filled the outline of the dress. It was worn by a curly-haired figure, and was just enough of a gesture drawing for you to gather the basic shape and vibe of the woman.

I stared at it in shock, and mild horror. Because it was one of the best pieces he'd ever done... and it looked a hell of a lot like me.

Not that it resembled me... just that it felt like me. The dress was the same cut as my prom dress had been, an A-line, strapless, and ombre in the shading. The glittery sequins and rhinestones I'd painstakingly added myself, layered on to create constellations on the fabric, were nodded to in the piece. And the curls and the hairstyle of the woman was very much like I'd done my hair that night.

Oh, Red. What am I supposed to do with this? Because the more I stared at it, the more I loved it... and the more I hated how it made me feel. I was trying to get over the inconvenient crush and focus on my books, my education, and making new friends. And now here I was, scrolling back through his work like a little girl just starting to notice boys for the first time.

His art was always different. He said more with what he didn't draw than what he did. It implied a deep understanding of desire and loss. Sure, maybe his technique wasn't great, but even I could tell he had potential.

I closed the browser tab and attempted to focus on my work, trying not to think about the implication of Red drawing me in my prom dress.

Over the next few weeks, more work began to pop up on his page. Every day, I checked his profile, anxiously awaiting any email updates. A new piece every few days kept me coming back, and the weird rock in the bottom of my stomach continued to grow.

Red was drawing me. I was sure of it.

He was doing gesture sketches of some of my old Facebook selfies, keeping them vague and unrecognizable unless you knew the context. He was using the same colors as a photo from my most recent Instagram story. He was taking the pattern from my colorful blouse in a photo I was tagged in, and incorporating it into his work.

Why was he drawing me? Did he know I liked him? Had Jess said something? Did he know I was following him on DeviantArt?

I decided to do an experiment. I chose a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt, pulled my white-blonde hair up in a ponytail, and lay in the grass in an open spot on the campus courtyard. I took a selfie with my eyes closed to block out the sun, and posted it on my Instagram with the caption: I see you.

After a few days with no artwork appearing, I thought maybe I'd scared him off. I was even more confused and frustrated than I'd been before. After a few more weeks, he stopped posting his art altogether.