Page 7 of Best Man on Campus

“I dare you to come home with me and spend the night, Mr. Hockey Star.” Her hands are on her hips and she’s loud and commanding, all her energy snapping with excitement.

“You won’t spend the night with her,” Vozeniek says. “You’re too fucking uptight about getting into med school.”

“What does that have to do with it?” I say.

“It’s your excuse for everything you don’t do.” He’s a shithead, but he’s right. A memory flashes of my dad making the excuse not to come to my hockey games because his patients needed him. Excuse? I don’t know. But the last thing I want to be is like my dad.

“Twenty bucks says Jazzy takes him home,” Kace yells. I open my mouth in surprise and then annoyance, but I keep my cool. Kace doesn’t like Voz giving me shit. It’s his warped way of defending me. Wild discussion about my manhood ensues. I nudge Kace, who’s standing on the other side of Jazzy.

Leaning over her head, I say under my breath, “What the hell are you doing?”

“You need to get wild and forget about getting into med school for one night,” he says. “The world will go on whether you get laid tonight or not.”

Jazzy lets out a hoot.

“I have a better bet,” she shouts over the crowd. “I bet Mr. Hockey won’t last the night with me, starting right now. Who wants to put a hundred smackers against that?”

The cheers and hoots of laughter that rise up remind me of a live performance and I wonder whether she has a stage name or makes do with Jazzy. She turns to me and says, “I dare you, Mr. Unicorn.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” I say, mostly to her because no one else is paying attention to me. They’re all pretty far gone, either drunk or reckless by nature or both.

“No, baby, just horny as hell, that’s all. Can’t you help a girl out?” Rescue me? I’m drowning—” She mimics a drowning woman, holding her nose and sinking down, playing for the audience again.

“Find another sucker—”

“I do want to suck you, now that you mention it.”

She’s relentless and I have no idea why, what she has in mind, but the more she talks, the more sure I am that she’s trouble. Or in trouble, way over her head. Probably my white knight complex showing. That’s what my mother would say.

“Someone ought to teach you a lesson,” I say, testing her.

Her eyes flash with excitement or fear, I can’t be sure.

“I’ll take that bet, Jazzy.” Kace holds out five twenties and I wonder where he got the money. “Ben is most definitely good for the night.”

“How are we going to know if he did or didn’t?” Stone shouts.

“What’s the matter? You don’t trust his word?” Jazzy says.

“You’re going to let me call it?” I say.

“I’m sure it’ll be a unanimous vote,” she says.

“We know Ben is good for his word,” Kace says. “Anyone else want to bet against him? My money’s on Ben the bomb. I say he’ll do it. I’m rooting for our fearless team captain to set a good example and have a night of fucking sin!” Cheers go up. One of the guys from BMOC House on the football team makes a side bet with Stone.

“So are you up to the dare, Dr. Hockey?” Jazzy says, rubbing against my arm and I swear my arm goes stiff.

“He has no choice,” Kace says. “He would never let me lose money on a bet.” He grins and waves a couple twenties more in the air. I wonder again where he got all the cash. Two more guys, not on the team, take his bet and damn if he isn’t right. He doesn’t have money to lose. Unlike a lot of the students at St. Paul’s we’re not stuffed. We have that in common. It bonded us early on.

We both need our scholarship money to get by, and though neither of us are poor, not like Jack Hunter was, we don’t have a lot of extras. No fancy car, no massive gaming setup with multiple screens, pedals and wheels like Stone Peterson has in his room. Not that I’d have the time to waste on that shit anyway.

She looks up at me, the devil and fire and brimstone spouting from her in the form of undressed sex, raw and overstated, that smacks me in the dick. I respond because I’m a red-blooded twenty-two-year-old man. Or trying to be a man, but I feel more like an adolescent right now, playing sex games with crazy girls and wild bets and dares.

On the other hand, what do I have to lose? I’m not usually into one-off casual hook-ups, but she’s more than willing, a consenting adult, isn’t she? What am I saving it for?

“Tell you what, Jazzy.” I throw an arm around her. “I’ll give you a ride home and we’ll see what happens.”

“I can guarantee you’ll spout like a volcano—" she says loud enough for all to hear. Loud enough for my cock to get the message as it nods in approval.