Nerve (8 page)

That cute guy from the coffee shop will be my partner? Not bad.

The screen flashes with Tommy’s picture. Hmmm, maybe their research isn’t as thorough as I feared. But boyfriend or not, the idea of heading off without my unofficial partner makes me queasy.

On the slim chance I’m Amish or live off the grid, they include the lyrics of a song about getting laid, which plays twenty times a day on the radio. Okay, most songs on the radio are about getting laid, but this one is the most explicit.

Tommy leans against the wall. “So, what is it?”

“Um, I’ll be doing a dare with Ian.”

“He’s your partner?” His voice cracks on the last word.

“I’m sorry. They really should’ve teamed me up with you. Too bad you didn’t apply.”

His eyes shift away and he swallows. “What’s your dare?”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say.”

“Technically, I’m not part of the crowd or a Watcher. Besides, no one’ll know.”

I tell him.

His expression remains neutral, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. “Well, at least let me go with you. It would be crazy to meet him alone.”

“I kind of have to.” I show him my phone.

His jaw tightens the way it did when Ms. Santana, the drama coach, tried to slash his budget for set construction. “You’re too smart for this.”

“It’s not like I’m taking off with the guy. The bowling alley’s a public place.”

He takes out his own phone. “I’m signing up as a Watcher.”

“You don’t need to spend money to keep tabs on me.”

He shrugs. “I would’ve signed up anyway. Cast parties don’t interest me much.”

“You sure? Matthew’s planning to add an extra ingredient to the punch.” Ms. Santana isn’t known for her chaperoning skills, and I think Tommy could have some fun if he loosened up.

He sighs. “Just be careful. Promise?”

“As long as you promise to only sign up as an online Watcher, not an in-person one, otherwise you’ll get me disqualified.”

He nods. “It’s a deal. Remember, you can quit whenever you want.”

“Of course. The minute anything sounds sketchy, I’m out.”

There’s no time to determine whether it’s hope or doubt flickering across his face. I hustle to my car and check the driving directions NERVE sent along with the dare. I also start downloading the app they gave me. It’s too bad Tommy can’t join me to discuss strategy. But the dare seems straightforward enough. Of course, so did the water-dumping one. A tremor goes up my spine with the memory of that cold fabric plastered to my chest.

I try to take my mind off of the upcoming mission by tuning in to a hip-hop playlist. But it only makes my heart pump faster. Twenty minutes later, I pull into a parking lot full of SUVs and mini-vans. Ian’s next to the front door, shuffling his feet. Heh. It’s only fair that he had to wait for me this time.

I check the lot for Watchers. Shouldn’t we have a few to record us? Maybe they’re on their way. No reason to hold off getting out of the car to greet my partner, though. When I reach him, I notice a sign on the door that says: “WELCOME PURITY PROMISERS!”

“This dare just got a lot harder,” I say.

He shrugs as if he expected this. “Just remember, the dare says we’ve got to ask. It doesn’t say anything about waiting for an answer.”

Why didn’t I figure out that angle? I’ll need to step up my game if I want to win anything tonight. “Good thinking.”

He taps my Jimmy Carter button. “I met him once at a Habitat for Humanity project.”

Wow, a guy who notices accessories and helps the homeless. See, Tommy had nothing to worry about. “So, how long should we wait for the Watchers?”

“Why wait? We can film this ourselves. The NERVE app includes a video chat link to use.”

I check my phone, which now has a little NERVE app, front and center in my faves section. As instructed, I run the program, which displays my dare, along with a video chat button and a little status bar that reads: T
ASK
N
OT
B
EGUN
.

I say, “The camera on my phone is a piece of crap.”

“No worries. You can just open the link to catch some audio as a backup. We’ll use my phone for the main video. How about I film you first, before we get them too riled up, and then you do me?”

I thank him, glad for his consideration, but twinging at the thought of what riling people up entails.

A pink-cheeked girl and her boyfriend stroll past us on their way inside. They giggle and hold hands, their shy glances suggesting they haven’t had their first kiss yet, which makes me feel worldly in comparison, although I haven’t gone much beyond the kissing stage myself.

My shoulders tense. “I feel like a jerk. These kids’ll think we’re teasing them. They don’t deserve that.”

Ian takes a deep breath, staring inside. Then he types into his phone. After a minute of reading, he says, “The studies they’ve done on abstinence programs show that the most successful ones are those that don’t disparage safe sex practices. So these guys should be aware of condoms. If they aren’t, we’ll be doing them a favor.”

I shake my head. “Great rationalization.”

“Look, it’s just a dumb dare. Maybe they’ll find it funny. We’ll ask gently, okay?”

People our age should be able to deal with a couple of goof-balls asking for a condom. It’s not like we’ll be hurting anyone. Who knows, maybe some of them have heard of NERVE and will laugh along with us. One big happy joke.

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod before I can convince myself otherwise.

As we enter the fluorescent-lit alley, waves of shouting and giggling hit us, along with the aroma of French fries and the wood polish they use on the lanes. The place is filled with dozens of teenagers chaperoned by a handful of adults. Banners on the wall proclaim: “Save your best for marriage!” and “Mr. Right Now is NOT Mr. Right.”

My heart throbs like a bass guitar; no, make that a banjo. Ian takes my hand, which does nothing to calm me, even though his skin feels warm and smooth. In the far corner
of the snack bar, half a dozen video games blink and whir. Five husky guys stand around booming displays, aiming joy sticks shaped like rifles. I can get half of my quota if I ask each of them, and no one else will be able to hear what’s going on, hopefully. I jerk my head in their direction. Ian leads the way.

When we reach them, Ian starts the video chat to NERVE. The guy nearest me, a huge blond with a buzz cut, raises his eyebrow.

I clear my throat. “Excuse me. Do you have a condom to spare?”

He puts his hands on his hips and sticks out his chest. “What?”

I say, louder, “I’m looking for a condom. Got one?”

“That isn’t funny.”

One down. I step over to a curly-haired guy at his side. “Do you have a condom I could borrow?” As if it’s something you’d ever return after using. Yuck and double yuck.

The curly guy scowls. “Get lost.”

“Not until I’ve asked your friend here.” I lean toward a short guy biting his lip. “Gotta condom?” Before he can say anything, I ask the guys holding the joy stick rifles. They both point them my way, and the sound of a bowling ball slamming into pins pierces the air like a shot. I jump. Ian places a hand on the small of my back, which I swear sends a pulse of electricity through me despite my anxiety.

“Thanks anyway.” I pant as we dart toward another cluster of kids.

A group of three guys and two girls sit around a table drinking sodas. Without waiting to formulate a plan, I tap the shoulder of the first person I reach. When he turns toward me, I catch my breath. It’s a guy named Jack, who my friend Eulie has crushed on for months. Guess his presence here explains why she’s never gotten anywhere with him. I think he also hangs out with Tommy in the video club. Please God, let him realize that I’m playing NERVE. Somehow, though, I suspect God won’t be taking my side in this little escapade.

I rub my hands against my skirt. “Um, hi, Jack. So I was wondering if you could give me a, um, condom?”

His face turns crimson. “Why would you ask such a question?”

I fight the urge to cry. “I’m so sorry.” Apologizing isn’t against the rules, is it?

He squints as if examining me, shaking his head.

Ian grabs my arm and drags me to another table. “Don’t stop to think about it. You’re almost done.”

He’s right. I ask two more guys in rapid succession, not waiting for an answer. One of them stands and gets in my face. “This isn’t funny. I think you should leave.”

I feel like an ass as we move to the girls next to them. These kids haven’t done anything to deserve our harassment. With shaky hands, I take the phone from Ian. “Go easy on them.”

Ian addresses a girl with layers of blue eye makeup. “I don’t suppose you have a condom on you? Not that you’d use it or anything.”

“Get out of here, asshole!” she snarls. Is
asshole
on her approved vocabulary list?

“How about you?” he asks the other girl. When she screams no, we scurry from the table.

Eight down for me, two for Ian.

We approach another mixed gender group. Jack still watches me from his table, his brow wrinkled. I turn away from his gaze and blurt my request to two more guys, one of whom is the boy I saw walking in with his girlfriend earlier. She clutches his hand and wears a horrified expression. Have I ruined their date? I shout a quick apology and take the camera from Ian. That’s ten. Why don’t I feel elated? All I want to do is shout how sorry I am and run out the door. But, I can’t. Not until Ian’s met his quota. I aim the camera at him while he asks a tiny brunette. She squeals like an injured puppy, which summons the guys from the video game.

The big blond guy glares. “We’ve had enough of you two. Now get out!”

“We’ll be going soon,” I say. “Just a few more minutes.”

Ian asks girls number four and five as the crowd circles us. The blond guy’s face looks like he can’t get enough air. Guess all that purity-promising doesn’t include any stress-reduction exercises.

One of the adults, who’s been eyeing us from the corner of the room, joins the fray. His hair is slicked back and his jacket’s worth more than half of my wardrobe. Is he their leader or something?

The man puts an arm around Ian and says in a jovial voice, “What’s going on here, kids?”

Ian jumps out of his grasp as if he’s been scalded. “We’re, uh, conducting an interview. And I’m happy to say that so far, your group is passing with flying colors.”

The man scrunches his forehead. “Interview?”

Ian pushes through the crowd to another table with three girls. His olive cheeks have acquired a crimson edge. I follow as best I can with the camera, not sure if it’s picking up his latest request, but the shriek from the tall redhead he just spoke to should be proof enough for the NERVE folks. He quickly causes similar yelps from the girl’s two friends. Eight down.

The blond guy says something to the man with the expensive jacket, who just nods and smiles. What are they plotting?

Ian glances at me, shiny-faced and breathing rapidly. He runs toward a table near the door. The crowd follows, shouting very non-pure sentiments. I flash the camera their way and the blond guy makes a grab for it. His fingers just miss it as I tuck it down my bra. I stick out my chest, daring him to reach past the vampire fang decal on my T-shirt, praying he doesn’t call my bluff.

He reaches forward and stops a few inches from my chest.
His neck is covered in red splotches that weren’t there before. “Outta here, you whore!”

Well, I’ve never been called that before, but I’m not about to debate my love life with this guy. I hustle to catch up with Ian. He’s asked another girl, but I didn’t get it on video. Will it be enough for me to vouch for him? I yank out the phone and catch his next request.

“Ask one more girl,” I yell.

“But that’s ten,” he says.

“One wasn’t on camera.”

He groans.

A female chaperone joins the crowd, waving her finger in Ian’s face. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“I am, but could you spare me a prophylactic?” he says with a sweet smile.

The blond guy yells in Ian’s face, “Show some respect, asshole!” He looks like he’s about to blow.

I tuck the phone back into my shirt and wave my fist. “Hey, remember, thou shalt not murder!”

In answer, the blond spits in my direction. I scream as it lands on the tip of my shoe. The man laughs and pats the younger guy’s back.

“You pigs!” I spit back.

The blond guy grabs my arms, squeezing them at the elbows. His breath is like gasoline, definitely an advantage to his purity maintenance.

Ian pulls at the guy’s shoulder. “Dude, we’re going now. Leave her alone.”

The guy pushes forward. “You had the chance to leave your way. Now you’ll do it our way.” He drags me toward the door as the man with the slicked-back hair and a few other boys grab Ian. The crowd around us yells.

Jack tugs at the blond guy and shouts, “Just let them go. I think it’s for a game.”