Chapter Eleven Delaney

Chapter Eleven

Delaney

Now: Friday, 8:30 p.m.

Party games are political. They come with agendas. Get drunk, hook up, pry the truth out of someone in the most embarrassing circumstances possible. Pick your poison.

Truth or Dare, Spin the Bottle, Seven Minutes in Heaven, Never Have I Ever…These games shape social circles, make or break couples, live or die as fond or traumatizing memories.

The last time we played this game, I lost. I followed the rules of engagement. Drank for every thing I'd done and abstained where experience was lacking. That night, I ended up a hot mess. This time I'll play better.

I'm not the target anyway.

"Never have I ever kissed a girl." Eden smirks. Then drinks, and her eyes laser across the coffee table.

"Fuck yeah," Camille says, taking a long sip. All the boys do too. But Eden is unsatisfied.

"Come on, Piper. No shame. Play fair."

"I am," Piper responds stonily.

"Suuuuuure." We all know what Eden's getting at, all her conspiracy theories about why Piper has never had a boyfriend. It's stupid to speculate, imo, but Eden and Cam are really pressed about it. I'm surprised at my friend's hypocrisy. No one outed Camille, but it's okay to do to someone else? Okay, Cam.

Eden gives Declan a playful shoulder bump. "Go on, Dec, you're up."

He's happy to oblige, his cup already tilted toward his mouth. "Never have I ever faked an injury." And after a deep pull comes the explanation. "For a prank video, obviously."

Then, surprising everyone, Liam takes a small sip!

"Liam, bro!" Declan leans across the circle to fist-bump him. It takes all my efforts to school my features into an expression that doesn't betray my own shock.

With a shrug comes the explanation. "There was this one day I just wasn't up for lacrosse practice, so…"

"Perfect golden boy isn't so perfect. I like it." Wyatt pauses to contemplate his turn, but then Camille elbows him in the ribs.

"Wait, not everyone has drunk yet," she says, looking across the circle at Piper.

"I didn't fake my injury," Piper grits out.

"My mistake," Camille says a little too brightly.

It's Piper's turn. We wait with bated breath. Has she caught on to the game? Will she retaliate?

"Never have I ever gone to a plastic surgeon," she says finally. Her eyes never leave Eden's. It's a game of chicken. Will Eden finally cop to what we all know?

Surprisingly, Camille takes a deep swig of her drink. "Deviated septum, four years ago."

"That's one way to say ‘nose job,'?" Wyatt cracks, but Camille gives a practiced eye roll in return, drinking a second time for good measure. This seems to give Eden the courage to take a microscopic sip herself. She does not editorialize her procedures, however.

Then, with a sly smile, Piper imbibes herself.

"What?" Eden squawks.

"I thought the point was to say things we've done and get drunk." Piper's smile is sly. "I've had Botox injections for migraines."

The game starts picking up now. As drinks empty, Camille is already on her feet refilling. When the Malibu runs out, I switch to the Al'more and Cherry Coke. It tastes like almonds, sickly sweet, but I am already buzzing, so it's hard to care at this point.

And now it's Eden's turn again.

"Never have I ever gone viral," she says.

A humblebrag that works well at our school. Declan doesn't seem to mind when it's his girlfriend rather than our guidance counselor who's pointing out his former glory; he whoops with delight, draining his cup dry. Eden, Camille, and I take far more demure sips.

"Oh my god, Delaney! I almost forgot!" Eden howls.

"It was hardly viral," I deflect with a low chuckle, the perennial good sport. I'm grateful she didn't say the horrid nickname I was saddled with for a good three months after. Heat licks at my insides at the memory.

"Hey, that was my first million-view solo video. And I got to keep the AdSense," Declan reminds me.

One benefit of breaking up was no more starring in his gotcha clickbait for the family vlog channel. Being humiliated by his Christmas present was the beginning of the end for us.

Declan turns wistful. "That was epic." He sighs. Then he rolls his shoulders, grins, and drinks. "Never have I ever cheated! Oh, in school," he adds with a Cheshire cat grin. Mustn't stray from the mission, which is to catch out Piper. But it seems she's a good girl academically, too. Declan drinks again for good measure, along with Liam, Eden, and Camille.

"That was one hard AP Psych test, bro." Liam shakes his head.

A deep furrow appears in Camille's brow. Whatever this is, it isn't working. Piper is neither ashamed by not drinking, nor is she drinking with shame. We're getting drunk, sure, but no one's having fun.

Camille goes for the big guns. "Never have I ever done drugs."

Something ripples through the air. A current shifting. A rip in time, transporting us to that night three years ago. Snow flicks against the glass, and the fire crackles, almost analogous to deep bass vibrating the walls, the chatter of partygoers downstairs. That night and this night, colliding.

I'll never forget that party and what it cost me.

The sound in the room seems to drop out, except for that creepy bear clock on the mantel. Tick, tock, tick, tock. It's a tease. An incessant drumbeat.

Tell the truth. Tick, tock, tick.

Everyone drinks, has to, except for Piper.

Then Eden pipes up in her trademark sour-sweet baby voice. "I'm sick of going round and round in order. It's boring. Jump in when you have something juicy, otherwise pass." Less an idea and more of a directive; no one objects. I brace for impact.

"Never have I ever drugged anyone." Eden drinks. "We love a self-own," she adds. More than a few eyes dart downward, thoughts on Ms. Silva knocked out in the basement. The bitch is bold.

Piper's cup doesn't move.

Camille revs like an engine, a low growl building from her chest. Then she hisses, "Never have I ever stabbed a friend in the back."

Every single person in this circle should drink to that, but we're way past honesty.

"We were friends?" Piper says.

"Ouch!"

"Shut up, Wyatt," Camille cracks like a whip.

"Yeah, Jesus, Wyatt, read the room." I know I should be the one jumping in to defend my best friend, but Eden is quicker. Even backing your friend can be turned into a competition between us. She takes it even further.

"Okay, okay, now me!" Eden squeals, clearly buzzed. "Never have I ever not been a sad eighteen-year-old virgin."

Piper gets the purposefully obtuse double-negative immediately, reeling back as if struck. And my entire body bursts into flame as the group catches on and everyone else drinks—except for Piper and me.

Everyone. Including my boyfriend.

It's the pity on their faces that fills me with a quiet rage, especially from Willa, of all people. How dare she feel sorry for me. I'm racking my brain for a prompt, something I can throw out there to get the spotlight off me, get this game back on track.

Piper speaks up first.

"Never have I ever peaked in high school." Her tone is falsely bright, inflection in all the wrong places. Then she stares across the coffee table at us. Points in turn at me, Camille, Eden, Declan…"Go on, you all. Drink. This one's just for you."

"Fuck you," Declan spits before I have a chance to feel insulted. He throws back the rest of his drink, quickly pouring himself another. His voice vibrates, scraping raw over the words again. "Just…fuck you."

"No one even wants you here," Eden piles on. "Why don't you take your broken arm and stay upstairs for the rest of the weekend." She says broken arm with the full weight of her skepticism.

"Fine." Piper rises, not exactly gracefully with her sling. "I hope you choke."

Whether that's directed at Eden, Declan, or the wall isn't clear. Piper's gone before anyone can ask.

"Screw the snow; I am getting in the hot tub," Eden announces. It does not need to be stated that we're done playing. Though I've the distinct feeling the real game has only begun.