The Brink of Destruction

The five of us spilled out of the theater, laughing hysterically. Well, maybe I should say the seven of us--Tre had managed to meet two girls who worked at a nightclub near the convention center, and they were taking him there to go dancing.

Only Tre, I thought, was wild enough to handle a date with two women. Especially in heels and lingerie.

Mike slid the car smoothly into the parking lot behind the dorm, and we made our way up the short path that wound through the pines and up to the entrance. Wynn fumbled in her purse for her card key, and with a click, the big oak door swung open.

I was feeling charitable after the movie; it was a cheering-up that I had needed badly. "You guys can come on up for a while and we'll get some pizza," I suggested. It would be nice to have some time just to talk to Mike and get to know him better, and I knew Wynn wouldn't object. And with the two of them, I could honestly say I wasn't breaking my resolution not to be alone with Billie.

"Would you mind if I turned on some music?" Billie asked as soon as we were in the room.
He was already reaching for the "on" button, and twiddling the tuning knob. When he found what he liked, the Clash burst from the speakers like a hurricane, and I ran to dim the volume before the RA came running to our room.

"Jeezaloo, Billie!" shouted Mike. "I'd like to be able to have kids someday, if you don't mind!"

Wynn was kicking off the black heels she'd been wearing, and she chuckled as she disappeared inside the big closet for a moment. When she reappeared, she was wearing cargo shorts and an "Elvira, Mistress of the Night" t-shirt.

"Ahh, much better!" she sighed. "All yours!" she said, sweeping her hand toward me.

I stood up, looking forward to having something with a little more coverage on. As I made my way to the closet, I heard footsteps behind me, and when I turned, there was Billie not a foot away, all eager-beagle grin and big goofy eyes.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked, my hands on my hips like some fishwife.

"Just offering my assitance to a lady!" he said, with theatrical suaveness. "Perhaps I might fold your slip...or hold your stockings...or undo that pesky bra strap?"

By this time, he looked almost comical. I was so close to laughing at him that I couldn't even come up with a clever comeback. So I flicked him on the forehead.

He looked at me incredulously. "I can't believe you did that!"

"Just wait out here, hot shot. You have no business in that closet."

He hung his head pitifully, but stayed outside until I could slip into my Daffy Duck pajamas. When I came out, Mike had already ordered pizza, and was sitting on the floor with Wynn, looking at her sketch book. Billie was stretched out across my bed, looking at my copy of Rolling Stone, but when he saw me, he closed the magazine and patted the bed beside him. I sat down, folding my legs under me.

"How about a game of 'Truth or Dare' until the pizza gets here?" he said slyly. I looked up at Wynn with a doubtful expression.

"Isn't that more of a high school game?" I wondered.

She grinned and shrugged. "I dunno, it might be kind of fun if you're up for it."

"So we're good?" Billie asked.

"Okay," Mike said.

"Sure," I nodded, "whatever."

He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Okay! Well, since it was my idea, I get to ask the first question. Dirnt!"

"Yeah?"

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Mike said hesitantly.

"Who was it you were dreaming about when I heard you moaning last night?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slyly.

"You shithead!" Mike yelled, thumping Billie's arm hard.

"Wait, now," he laughed, "you have to answer! Truth, remember?"

Mike looked bashfully back and forth between Billie and Wynn. He sighed heavily. "Okay, okay!!" His poor face was flaming. "It was Wynn." He looked over at her with a sheepish expression. "Sorry," he muttered.

She laughed softly, and leaned over to hug him. "Why would you be sorry? It's an honor to be in your dreams!" The look of adoration on his face was so sweet it was almost painful to see.

"See? Confession is good for the soul!" Billie crowed.

"Yeah, well now it's my turn!" Mike sneered. "Truth or dare, buttmunch?"

"Dare me, big guy!" Bille said, puffing out his chest. Wynn and I rolled our eyes at each other.

"Fine. I believe I'd like to see you strip naked and run to the end of the hall and back yelling 'I'm a bad boy'!" Billie's shirt was almost off before he even finished speaking.

"You really don't have to do this," I reasoned with him.

"Sure I do--it's a dare!" he said, as though that was inarguable. He began to unbutton his jeans, and as they slid to his ankles, Wynn covered her eyes. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, and I turned my head quickly.

The door snicked open, and we heard the thudding of footsteps, fading as he ran down the hall. "I'm a very bad boy!" he yelled over and over at the top of his lungs. Then the footsteps began to get closer again, and I could hear him banging on each door as he passed. A couple of shrill screams echoed up the hall, and then I heard our door bang shut. His breath came in shallow gasps between bursts of laughter.

"Mission accomplished!" he cackled, and I heard the rustle of fabric as he gathered his clothing.

Then I did a very bad thing. I peeked. And he saw me.

I couldn't help it. My eyes were wide as they traveled over his lean, muscled torso, marveling at the bright tattoos that splashed across his shoulders and arms. His chest was smooth and hairless, and his stomach was flat and tight. And below that...

I glanced up to see him staring right at me. He stood with his head high and shoulders back, watching me as I admired his body, and there was no shame in his face. I glanced nervously over to the side, but Mike was engrossed in the sketchbook again, and Wynn was still hiding her face. When I looked back at him, he winked roguishly, and stepped into his boxers.

"Can I look yet?" Wynn asked, giggling.

"Just one more second," he said. "I'm just zipping up."

Mike laid the book back on Wynn's desk. "Well, you big whore, it's back to you now."

Billie sat back down, fully dressed again and looking smugly proud of himself. "Yes, I believe it is. Let's see...this time I think the prince will call...Gen!"

I cringed. "Would it be completely unthinkable for me to pass?" I asked.

"Nope," Billie shook his head. "I manned up and did my dare, so you have to take your turn."

"Okay, let's make it truth, then." Wincing, I waited for the bomb to fall.

He regarded me for a moment, his arms wrapped around his knees. "Have you ever kissed a guy? Not a friendly, cousins at the reunion peck on the cheek--a real, deep, mind-blowing kiss that makes your knees go weak and turns your brain to pudding."

It wasn't a hard question, but I hesitated. It was like he could see inside me, and knew all my secrets already. Truth was, Dustin and I had kissed, many times, but it was always...sweet, romantic. Not that that was a bad thing--it just wasn't the same as what Billie was talking about. But there was no reason for him to know that.

"Well, of course I have. Dustin and I have been dating for eight months--what do you think?" I relaxed, thinking he'd lobbed me an easy shot, considering what it could have been.

"Hmm. An out of towner. Interesting...." He looked at me meaningfully, but didn't say more.
I was eager to shift the attention to someone else. "Wynn!" I smiled.

"Yes ma'am!" she said, perking up.

"You know the question!"

"I'll take truth!"

A knock at the door saved her. I paid for the pizza since it was my invitation, and as we sat munching, Mike opened the can of worms.

"So wasn't this boyfriend of yours supposed to come visit this weekend?" he asked innocently. Wynn elbowed him, almost making him choke. "What?" he whispered.

I shook my head. "It's okay, it's a fair question. His ride ran into car problems, so we'll have to try again later."

"Where is he in school, Gen?" Wynn asked.

"He's at Savannah College of Art and Design. He's studying architecture."

Billie coughed into his fist. "Big bucks! Big bucks!"

I'd stopped taking the bait, so I ignored him. Anything that suggested success or money seemed to make him uncomfortable, so there was no point arguing. "He's been writing some songs, too, so when he sends me a CD I'd love for you to take a listen and see what you think." I was looking at Mike when I said this.

Billie rolled his eyes, but something on his face looked wounded. We finished our pizza and talked some more about our families, but he didn't say much about himself, except that his dad had died when he was young, and that he had five brothers and sisters.

No matter how hard I tried to figure him out, he remained a mystery.

Finally, Mike yawned hugely. "I hate to cut this party short, but I think KMIK is about to sign off the air. Beej, you about ready, buddy?"

Billie wiped his hands on his pants and chugged the last of his Coke. "Yeah, let's bid these fine ladies goodnight and ride off into the sunset, Butch."

Wynn stood and looked up at Mike. "I'll walk you down to the door, okay?"

The tall, skinny guy grinned like it was his birthday. "Yeah, I'd like that. You coming, Billie?"
"Yeah, I'll be along in a minute. I'm just gonna see if I can find my necklace--you know, the one with the pick on it. I think it must have fallen off."

The bass player linked his arm around Wynn's waist, and they headed slowly downstairs, pulling the door shut behind them. I turned to Billie, a sudden pain stabbing my chest.

"Um, what did you mean about your necklace? Do you want me to give it back to you?" I asked him. For some reason I couldn't explain, I felt tears pricking my eyes.

"Well, if you've got a boyfriend, you won't want some stupid cheap piece of junk from me. I just wish you'd mentioned him before you let me look like a fool."

"Billie, I--"

"Look, don't worry about it. It's not like I was trying to get you to date me or anything. I just thought we could hang out sometimes when you got bored. You can keep it if you really want to."

"Billie, I really enjoy being with you, and I was honored that you'd trust me with something that means a lot to you. Have I done something wrong?"

"I don't know, Genny. Have you?"

What the hell was he talking about? I hadn't done anything, not to him, not to anyone. What was the problem?

"I don't understand you, Billie. You're nice to me one minute, and then you tear me a new one the next. I don't know why you're upset right now, and I don't know what I've done to make you angry. What is it you want from me?"

"Would you really like to know?" he asked, his eyes blazing.

"Yes, I really would."

His arms were around me before I knew what was happening, and he lowered his lips until they crushed against mine. The air around us warmed with the heat of the kiss, and my hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, wanting our bodies to melt into each other, wanting to dissolve the separation between us. The hunger made me crazy, completely, totally, jelly-kneed, over the moon crazy, and I had no idea who I had become.
He pulled away suddenly, long before I was ready for him to stop, and I looked into his eyes in desperation. What was I doing? This wasn't Dustin, and it wasn't just a friendly kiss.
"If he's never made you feel that way, ask yourself why. Because I can."

He was gone, and I stood stunned in the middle of the room, staring at the open door.