y/n: your name

tws: swearing, drinking

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marina's pov *

the effects of last night hit me like a mack truck.

i groaned and kicked the stifling comforter i was blanketed in off myself, feeling hot and sweaty and sticky and smelling like a weird mix of onion rings and whiskey. i hadn't gotten nearly as drunk as y/n and naomi last night, but the alcohol still burned in the back of my throat and in the bottom of my gut like the slowest building fire ever. my head throbbed, but, much to my discretion, i remembered pieces of last night. pieces like wrestling with y/n, eating fried food that i shoved into my purse, and, probably most interestingly, clay saying that he wished he had kissed a particular dance partner a couple nights ago, and that dance partner agreeing with him.

now that was a juicy scoop.

was it just the aspiring journalist in me that felt very invested in how their story was going to play out? probably. was it also the aspiring journalist in me that was begging to give them a little push so they'd just date already? maybe, but that could also be naomi's influence.

i stretched with a loud yawn and threw my legs over the side of the bed, plaid pajama bottoms draping way over my heels. oh yeah, i had raided nick's closet. i realized that i must have been in his room too, but the texan in question was nowhere in sight. i shrugged. he was probably already downstairs.

i slid off the mattress and planted my feet on the ground.

"OOMPH!"

"WHAT THE SHIT?" i yelled, tumbling backwards as i reflexively brought my knees to my chest.

"ow— mari— it's just me," somebody whined, and i peered over the edge of the bed at the familiar voice. nick was flat on the ground, one eye open to glare at me, both arms hugging his stomach. there was a mashed pillow behind his head and a blanket half draped over his legs, tangled in a way that barely covered him.

"what— what are you doing on the floor you big idiot?" i laughed, shifting so i was on my stomach and my feet were kicking in the air.

he sat up and twisted into a stretch, his voice hoarse. "well— i— you crashed in here in the middle of the night and i— like— i wasn't sure if you meant to do that or if you were comfortable sleeping next to me— and clay's sleeping on the couch already— so i just slept on the floor in case you were.. like.." he met my eyes for a brief second, losing his train of thought.

he was so flustered.

and suddenly so was i.

was this that scene in romcoms i always yearned for? that checkmate of intense eye contact between the goofy guy and the girl that was head over heels for him?

well, if it was, i wasn't passing it up.

i seized the moment and leaned forward to press a soft, fervent kiss to his lips. he froze for a second, but soon he lifted his hand to cup my cheek, his touch featherlight. my skin tingled at the sensation, like an electric buzz of adrenaline was pricking my nerves, and when we finally parted and i pulled back to see his red, shocked face, i couldn't help but smile and peck another kiss on his nose.

"you're cute nicky, but you talk an awful lot," i said, my voice cracking into a whisper.

his stupidly contagious grin grew wider and he leapt up from where he was sitting to tackle me onto the bed, a big bear-hug wrapping around my waist. when we settled after a fit of laughter he laid half on top of me, head tucked under my chin, fluffy hair tickling my skin.

he sighed, breath warm against my chest. "i like you. like a lot mari," he said after a moment, words muffled by my shirt.

"yeah," i agreed, running my hands through his hair, "i like you a lot too."

we would have stayed like that all day, afraid to break the moment, but the other members of the house were making a raucous downstairs and kept shouting for us to join them, and so, reluctantly, we parted from our hug and made our way to group up with the others.

"wha— did you guys bang or something? what is..?" naomi gestured to her lips, eyeing nick with a creased brow.

i looked over at him and noticed a swab of my dark red lipstick on the corner of his lips and on the tip of his nose and blushed, reaching over to swipe it off with my finger. "okay, no, we didn't bang. we—"

"you finally kissed!" y/n cheered, handing us both a cup of steaming hot coffee.

'finally kissed' my ass. she was one to talk.

"thanks," i said flatly. i took a sip of my drink, peering over the edge of the mug at her and clay. "anything happen last night that i should know about?" i pressed, licking the bubbly foam from my lips, "anyone get any action? other than me of course." i bumped nick's shoulder with mine.

"i wish!" naomi shouted from the kitchen.

i rolled my eyes.

"i don't think so," y/n yawned, "everything i remember from last night is blurry as fuck and i can't tell if i dreamt it or not so—" she clapped her hands together— "yeah."

"you're a really nice drunk, you know that?" clay butted in, "when you called me you started complimenting my eyes and my smile and stuff."

she groaned. "i know, i vaguely remember that. i saw the text messages too. what the hell."

they both started cracking up.

"i didn't say anything else stupid right? like there's nothing i should know about?"

"no," he laughed, but it sounded a bit unsure, "definitely not."

"you sure about that?" i chimed in, leaning over the countertop.

"i—" clay met my eyes for a second, and it exchanged everything i needed to know without any words. "yes," he said a little too confidently.

i sipped my drink again. why was he not telling her what they said last night? did he seriously think she was just talking out of her ass when she admitted she wished he would have kissed her?

"drunken confessions are just sober thoughts, clay."

all the pieces were literally laid out right in front of them.

they were denser than i thought.

i zoned back into the conversation.

"nomi, i don't know how you pull shit like this so often. i need a break," y/n whined, stretching over the countertop.

"honestly same. last night was good though. it was some much needed therapy," she responded, mimicking her position.

"drinking away the pain are we?" i asked.

naomi lifted her head to glare at me. "no pain. only gain. i shed no tears over ethan." she paused. "we will be partying again before i leave though."

"fine, but after that break we just talked about," y/n added, and we all nodded in agreement.

but apparently, a break for naomi was only three days long.

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y/n's pov *

"PICK BITCH! TRUTH OR DARE!" i shouted, crushing the red solo cup i had just downed the contents of and chucking it at nick.

"DARE! I PICK DARE!" he yelled, throwing it back to me.

"LET SOMEONE.. UH.. WRITE ON YOUR FOREHEAD AND THEN YOU GUESS WHAT THE WORD IS!"

"WHAT— THAT'S TOO EASY! EASY DUB!"

"eAsY dUb!" clay mocked, digging through the kitchen junk drawer for a writing utensil. he threw me a marker and i fumbled to catch it in my hands.

"i think you should do the honors," i said when he sat down again, passing it back to him.

"you sure?" he quirked an eyebrow, already uncapping the marker and leaning over to write on nick's forehead.

"go for it."

clay bit his tongue, trying to keep the lines of the word he was writing steady through his bubbly laughter.

"you're writing dick! i can literally tell you're writing dick! you're such an asshole!" nick laughed, and when clay was finished he shoved him backwards playfully.

"you— WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO IT IN SHARPIE?" the marker rolled between the two, and there was a moment of silence as everyone stared at it.

clay tumbled backwards first, hugging his stomach as his laugh didn't even have a noise to it anymore. all he squeezed out was. "i— hhh," and then lost it.

nick rubbed at his forehead furiously, smudging the very bold letters into a worse mess, but he couldn't help but laugh. "no, no, i blame you for that y/n!" he pointed an accusatory finger at me.

"what— okay, look, at least i wasn't the dumbass that grabbed a sharpie!" i pushed clay's shoulder with my hand and he started laughing again.

"i don't care! naomi, can i ask her this round?"

"hm," she mused, tapping a finger to her chin. "permission granted."

"what the hell, i just went! are there even rules to this game anymore?"

"yes. my rules." naomi winked and swigged back some of her drink.

"meh meh meh," i mocked with my hand, turning back to nick, "fine. i'll do a dare. i'm no pussy."

"kiss someone in this room. like a big ol' wet—" he started making dramatic smooching noises and then leaned over and planted a playful kiss on marina's lips, which she laughed through.

naomi fake gagged. "okay, that was not an invitation for you two to make out. gross."

nick stuck his tongue out at her and then pecked mari's cheek before turning back to our circle of truth or dare players.

"hm, nice one nicky," i said, "i see how you play." i scanned the room of my friends and considered my options. nick and marina were obviously out of the question, george was still asleep upstairs, and, while i was totally down to kiss my hot friend naomi, i knew who i had narrowed it down to in the end.

"oh clayyy," i cooed sing-song, and his eyebrows raised in shock, his laugh hitching in his breath.

"me? you're kissing me? with a big.. ol'.. wet.."

"yup. sit up, sit up." i grabbed his hand and pulled him so he was sitting crisscrossed in front of me. both his hands rested on his knees, his foot bouncing in an irregular rhythm.

i smiled smugly, trying to juke the butterflies in my stomach, like if i pretended i wasn't nervous i wouldn't be. i wanted to kiss him so bad, but maybe not in front of all my friends, and maybe not while we both had one beer already hot on our breath. and definitely not because of some stupid dare.

there was a memory itching in the back of my head as i leaned imperceptibly closer to the blond.

"i think about how i wanted to kiss you."

i couldn't quite piece it together.

i shuffled forward on my knees, now slightly taller than him as he sat hunched over, and lifted his chin with my finger to meet my eyes. they were just as bright green as they always were, but there was something else behind them now. excitement or fear i wasn't sure.

it was just a dare right?

i leaned in closer, hand still gently resting on his jaw. there was an exchange of breath between us, the hot air tingling my lips as mine almost brushed his. one more quick movement— one flinch forward and we would have been pressed together, but this was truth or dare, and i played hardcore.

i swerved his lips and dragged my tongue up the side of his cheek.

marina and nick gasped.

clay's jaw dropped.

i sat back on my heels, holding my breath as i contained the laugh that was building the more i looked at his shell-shocked face.

"you didn't," he deadpanned after a beat of silence, a small chuckle breaking through his monotone as he stared at me.

"oh but i did," i whispered back.

his lips thinned into a flat line as he tried to squash his smile, and he suddenly surged forward, tackling me to the ground.

oh, this bitch wanted war.

i screamed through my laughter as he reached to tickle my stomach, thrashing my limbs even though it did nothing to get the giant oaf that was the blond boy off of me. he pinned one of my wrists above my head and poked my side with the other, which elicited a honking wheeze from my chest. my abdomen starting aching from laughing so much.

"clay— clay please!" i yelled, inhaling a breath as he stopped tickling me.

there was a smug smile on his stupid face as he hovered a claw hand over me. "i deserve an apology for that."

"you deserve jack shit shithead!"

he quirked an eyebrow. i thought he might have been at a loss of words for a comeback to my epic insult, but no.

a gurgling noise emitted from the back of his throat, and after a moment, on the edge of his lip, there was a loogie threatening to drop onto me.

my fight of flight kicked in.

i screamed, and, in one strenuous move, thrusted my hips upwards, knocking him forward. he released my wrist to stop his fall, and so i grabbed his waist first to scoot up, then his arm, and rolled him over so i had him in the same position he had me in before.

not exactly how i imagined i would use my self defense class knowledge, but hey.

"checkmate green boy," i panted, pinning both his wrists above his head. his shocked expression turned into a smile, and he beamed up at me.

"that was somehow hotter than the kiss, what the fuck," naomi deadpanned.

"huh?" i sputtered, my grip loosening. clay took the opportunity to wedge his way free, but this time he didn't tackle me, just wrapped his arms around my waist in a tight hug.

i squirmed, laughing. "hey, clingy ass! get off!"

"that was really impressive i promise i will never do that again please do not suplex me through the floor—" he rambled, words muffled by my shirt.

i sighed, patting his back as he continued to speak.

"i dared you to kiss someone and i get this disaster," nick said, shaking his head. "no points."

"bitch, i licked him! how much more "big ol' wet kiss" could that get? i get extra credit, fuck you."

"where are my points for that?" clay whined, lifting his head from my chest to rub his slobbery cheek on his shoulder.

"oh hell no, you don't get points for doing nothing."

"doing nothing? you licked me!"

"yeah, and i had to taste your disgusting aftershave. because of it. those are my points—"

"naomi.." nick whined, throwing his head back.

"hm." she tapped a finger to her chin again, thinking. "three points for y/n, none for clay, end of discussion."

"hell yeah!" i yelled.

"this game is rigged." clay fake sobbed. he dropped his hands from my waist and laid down on the ground, curling up in the fetal position.

"waah, waah," i mocked, laying down next to him. "you—"

"what the hell is going on down here?"

we all turned to see george at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"truth or dare! get in here or be square!" i called.

"that's.. not how the saying goes." he exchanged worried glances with us before succumbing to peer pressure. he sighed and moseyed into the living room, joining our circle and sitting crisscross on the floor. "i'll play."

"truth or dare george?" clay sat up and steepled his hands together mischievously.

he hesitated. "dare."

"take a swig of straight hot sauce."

george fake gagged. "no. i pick truth."

"how come i couldn't have gotten that dare?"

"shut up nick," i said. "george, are you saying you forfeit this dare?"

"can't i just pick truth instead?"

"nope. your decision has been locked in."

he rolled his eyes. "then yes, i forfeit."

"fine. then take a drink, and clay will decide on a different dare."

"since when was there drinking involved in this game?"

"since i said so", naomi smiled, pouring beer into a solo cup. she passed the drink to him.

george stared into the brown fizzling liquid and frowned. "how do i know clay won't just pick a worse dare?"

"you don't," the blond said, wiggling his eyebrows.

he narrowed his eyes at him and then kicked back the drink, eyes immediately widening as the alcohol hit his tongue. he swallowed roughly, crinkling the cup. "this is disgusting."

"the charm of cheap beer," naomi said.

"lovely." he licked his lips with a scrunched expression. "what's my new dare?"

"i'm glad you asked," clay said, steepling his hands again. "you have to prank call a friend."

"oh— yes! easy! i'm gonna get quackity so bad." he picked up his phone and took a deep breath, stifling his laughter. george had a thing where you could hear his smile when he talked, so he was trying to squash it too. it didn't work well, but he called anyway.

the line rang once, then twice, then three times.

"what if he doesn't—"

"george!" a fake british accent said.

the brunet sealed his lips shut, eyes wide. after a beat of silence, he brought the phone close to his mouth and yelled into the speaker. "QUACKITY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! I WAS COOKING PAN.. PANCAKES AND I SET THE KITCHEN ON FIRE, AND—"

"who the fuck makes pancakes at eleven o'clock at night?"

"QUACKITY MY KITCHEN IS LITERALLY BURNT TO A CRISP! MY ROOMMATES ARE GOING TO COME HOME AND.. AND EVICT ME WHEN THEY SEE IT!"

"i— wait actually? is it that bad?"

"YES IT'S BAD! EVERYTHING IS FALLING APART!"

"do you have plants or furniture or something you can slide in there? put some decor over it and no one will ever notice," he suggested, his tone still light despite the obvious concern seeping into his voice. we all smiled mischievously knowing he was taking the bait.

"i can't! the cabinets are literally crumbling! the floor is breaking through!"

"what the fuck— how do you fuck up pancakes that bad george?"

"i don't know! i—" george gasped dramatically, "QUACKITY IT'S ON FIRE AGAIN!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN— CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!"

"MY SLEEVE IS ON FIRE— I'M ON FIRE— QUACKITY!"

"GEORGE!"

a facetime call popped up on the screen and we all huddled close, hands clasped over our mouths to contain our laughter as george continued to yell in exaggerated pain. after a second more of screaming he answered the facetime call, his cries quickly turning to laughter as alex stared at the screen, eyes wide.

"PRANKED! GET PRANKED!" george shouted, laughing hysterically.

he gaped in silent shock and then bursted into a rambling fit of yelling. "WHAT THE FUCK GEORGE I THOUGHT YOU FUCKING DIED—"

"BYE QUACKITY!"

"YOU ARE THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING WORST—"

george hung up the call. there was a beat of silence, and then he dropped the phone on the floor like a mic.

we all cheered, shaking him around the shoulders.

i was grateful that the houses next to us were vacant, because we would be noisy neighbors.

"that acting was actually believable. i'm in shock," naomi said, kicking back on the couch after everyone settled down.

"are you saying you.. you didn't think i could do it?" george frowned dramatically, and then, after only a mere moment, he forced a a single tear to roll down his cheek.

her eyes widened. "no— oh my god— i meant like—"

he started laughing again.

"wait. oh, you little bitch. you can cry on command?"

"that's just too much power," i said. i moved the bowl of popcorn from the floor to sit in the middle of my crisscrossed legs. clay immediately reached over and took a handful, and though i glared at him, i scooted closer so we could share.

"naomi, since you made george cry, now you have to do a truth or dare," the blond smiled.

"what? what happened to me just being a spectator?"

"come on! one round?"

she sighed. "truth."