Part Two.

Okay, so maybe you like this, maybe you don't. Or maybe you're just another insomniac up at the break of dawn doing something completely useless in your attempts to go to sleep?

Oh, and a quick disclaimer: There are lyrics in here that belong to "Think of You Later (Empty Room)" by Every Avenue. They're a decent band I recently saw them in concert and when I had to write a short story for my class, I was given enough inspiration from the song to write this.


We dared each other to try and get accepted into the school of our dreams (mine, NYU; his, University of Southern California, thousands of miles outside of our rural town of Tewksbury, Massachusetts) with one catch. That catch was that while each had to apply to their dream school, the other had to also apply to that school. Meaning, I had to not only apply to NYU, but also University of Southern California.

Meaning that when we got our acceptance letters in the mail a few months later, Tristan would be attending NYU while I attended USC the following fall semester.

-v-v-v-v-

The day had finally come that we were leaving all our memories behind--abandoning them for four years until we returned from college. With different tickets to opposite ends of the United States residing in our wallets, we would no longer be within a five mile radius of each other, able to be there for one another at the drop of a hat.

The airport was in sight from the windshield of my mom's van, as I gripped Tristan's hand in my own, holding onto that piece of him for just a little longer. That Wednesday, the 21st, the third one of the month, we were departing from our hometown to face the troubles of the world; only this time, without each other. When the time reached 4:00 p.m. and our planes were leaving the runway, we would be heading into separate directions--him to NYU, and I to USC.

The night before, Tristan and I had a discussion and decided to board our flights and enter the airport alone; we did not want to have to face the looks of despair on our mother's faces through the looking glass as we taxied down the runway in separate directions. We agreed that entering the airport alone without the crutch of our parents to hold us up any longer would be the stepping stone into adulthood. The stepping stone we needed to face together.

My mom pulled the car over to the curb where were would be saying our goodbyes. I looked up to meet the eyes of my best friend beside me, still clutching his hand even as we exited the vehicle.

Tristan led the way from the car as we said our goodbyes to our mothers on the sidewalk, holding up the availability of space in the drop off/pick up area. We made our way to the back of my mom's minivan to retrieve our luggage, and then came back around to the sidewalk to say our final farewells before being thrust into the "Real World."

"You've always got a place to come home to, baby girl," my mom said, the strongest person I knew tearing at the procession of my life without her.

"T-thanks mom," I whispered, holding onto her; not wanting to let go of the consistency I had for the past 18 years. We switched when each was done, then I was then getting words of encouragement and advice from Ms. Delaney.

"Don't let those city folk tell you who you are," I heard my mom say into Tristan's ear, as his told me to "Never let a man tell you what you can and can't accomplish," her feminist views attached to every word she spoke.

"I won't Ms. D," I said, choking on my words as I had before with my own mother. I released her from my clutches and went back to my own mother one last time as Tristan did the same.

"I love you, mom," I stifled out through small sobs that slowly began to overcome my body as I hugged my mother one last time, not wanting to let go even as cars started honking in impatience.

"'Bye my babies," my mom said, waving to us as she turned and began to disappear into the masses of people and vehicles. "Love you more."

As we walked away from both of our mothers, we walked into the portal that would deliver us into the vast unknown which we called our future. We faced the future with smiles and we walked hand and hand into the airport, daring ourselves to continue.

-v-v-v-v-

"Last time I checked, Tristan, it's your dare. Mine was last night with you, the lemons, coconut bra, and man thong, so now it's your turn," I said, referring to the night before and the dares it included before we passed out on the futon on the back porch.

"I do believe it is, Anna, my dear," he said, stroking his chin like an ancient philosopher.

"This is the last one for a while, Tris. But--only if you want to--you can just save the dare, and we'll pick up when we come home? I know that's a long time, but hey--at least you can't say you didn't get adequate time to think of a good one... " I said, though by the look on Tristan's face, the obvious answer was no. The probability of him holding in one last dare for four years was slim to none.

"How can I just let you walk away without one final dare? How will I ever get by knowing that the last moments we spent together weren't with you in humiliation?" he inquired, smirking devilishly.

"Ha, yeah, okay. You've only got," I glanced to my wristwatch, the Power Rangers faceplate mocking me from my childhood years, "seven minutes. Make it a good one, 'cause it'll have to last you four years."

"Okay," he murmured, trailing off as he began his search for anything daring.

"Hmm...a dare to last me four years? Something over the top; no not licking the floor again. No, she already stuck her hand in the port-a-potty toilet." I groaned at this, moving my hand to my nose for a smell test. Clean. "No, that old guy looks like he'd want to see her shake her laffy taffy..."

"C'mon, Tris. Only four more minutes," I said as my flight and gate numbers were sounded on the speakers above. My eyes wandered over to the gate behind me where I was supposed to be departing from, then to across the hallway and masses of people where Tristan's gate stood opposing me.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, brushing off the comments with the swish of his hand.

I looked down to my watch once more, this time my heart catching in my throat. It was almost time to go; one minute before it became time to board my flight and go to the school I got accepted into. Even though it was only because of a stupid dare that got me there in the first place. A stupid dare that was preventing me from getting on that stupid flight. A stupid dare from months before that wouldn't leave my mind because a stupid boy and a stupid girl, and a stupid, drunken kiss that the stupid boy thought I was stupid enough to forget. A series of stupid dares that filled my childhood and ever present present with memories of said stupid boy and stupid girl running around causing a ruckus anywhere they went. A stupid dare that started it all. A stupid dare that started our non-stupid friendship.

"Now boarding flight 9637, Gate 43 A. Now boarding flight 9637, Gate 43 A..."

"Tristan, that's me," I said, disappointed it was finally time to leave. We turned and made our way to the gate, he placed his hand on the small of my back; ushering me to my new life without him. We arrived at the place where we would say our goodbyes. Our final face to face for four years. The two of us stood there in silence, me, not wanting to say anything in case he was still thinking of a dare, and him, most likely still thinking of one.

Don't cry, don't cry. You'll see him in no time. Four years begins today. You'll call him right as soon as you get to your dorm to complain about your freaky roommate that looks like she just came from the town asylum with shifty eyes and another personality named Steve.

"I've... got nothing. I guess that means I get to spend the next four years thinking of a good one, huh?" he said, breaking the silence, disappointment obvious in his voice, as he wiped away a stray tear from my eye that I personally told not to fall.

"Mhmm," I stammered, as I squeezed him into a hug.

"This is see you later; I'm not into goodbyes," he said, singing lyrics from a song we listened to during those long summer nights when the prospect of colleges wasn't a pressing matter and we would just exist without thinking for those generous moments in time.

We stood there for another few seconds, absorbing every last ounce of each other. When the crowd began to dwindle from twenty people, to just us and a final late straggler running from baggage check, I knew it was time to let go; finally.

"'Bye," I said, giving him one final embrace as I turned and grabbed my carry-on bag and purse, walking to the entryway to California and the life it had waiting for me.

"'Miss you already," he called from across the sea of empty seats, already looking so far away even though it was no more than a few feet.

"'Miss you too," I called back, this time waving, the happiness from the gesture not reaching my eyes.

This was it. I was leaving. No more mom to tell me from wrong and right. No more Ms. Delaney to go to next door when I needed motherly advice, yet when I couldn't confide in my own. But, most of all, no more Tristan. We would no longer be within relative close proximity of each other. We would be 2,993.92 miles apart, no longer able to talk face to face when we had a problem or a simple human want for each other's company.

I was almost out of earshot when I heard a voice, calling to me from across those empty seats.

"WAIT!"

I turned around, dropping my bags as I saw Tristan sprinting to me from across the room.

"I know what I want my dare to be."

"Well, yes?" I questioned, my mind drawing a blank as to what was so important that he had to delay the boarding of my flight, and to why he was standing there, eyes unfocused and not saying anything.

"I dare you to...uhmm...I dare you to..." he said, his eyes glazing over like they always did when he tried to think of a dare; meandering left to right, right to left.

"Tristan, spit it out. I've got a plane to catch in like, .05 seconds."

"I dare you to love me," was what I gained in response.

The phrases and sarcastic, dry remarks that usually would have rolled off my tongue at the usual time when any ultimatum was given by Tristan, much less at the point where he was delaying my flight, stopped abruptly in the back of my throat. My jaw cinched shut, my lips pursed as I stared in his eyes, reading them for what they were, or at least what they seemed to say.

They implored me to choose yes. They begged my to accept the dare. To accept Tristan. His eyes gave one last plea as he looked away, seemingly more interested in the carpeted floor and final passerby's shoes rather than me.

Dare you to love me?, honestly, Tris. Can't you just ask me to sing "Like a Virgin" or something equally embarrassing?

"I-I," I sputtered finally, no longer having his eyes boring into mine. I didn't have the slightest clue as to which route to choose, though I knew there were only truly two ways with which to proceed.

One, I could accept the dare, and love him, not that I already didn't. I would choose him, and everything that came with that package. The endless conversations about everything and nothing at the same time, the safety of someone who I could easily see myself growing old with, having matching electric wheel chairs tricked out with organizer pouches that we would sew obscenities into every Friday while the others were playing Dollar Bingo in the lounge...

Or two, I could forget about this ever happened, and walk away, allowing him to win after thirteen years of dares that never made sense, thus, giving in and not accepting a dare.

"Double dog dare?" he asked, interrupting my thoughts of defeat as he glanced up from fraying carpet.

Interruption was what I needed, for when I looked into his eyes once more, I knew my answer. In his eyes, I was able to see those days ahead of us. Us, meaning together. Together meaning in love. In love meaning...

"Triple dog?" I asked, challenging him one last time.

"Did you expect anything less coming from me? And seeing as it's Wednesday, the 21st at 4:09 p.m., I'd like to think so," Tristan stated, drawing nearer.

"Now tell me, Tristan Delaney, can Annalise Cleopatra Von Locke, ever turn down a triple dog dare, much less a dare itself?" I questioned, grabbing his hands in mine.

"N-never," he said, his voice and hands trembling.

"With that said, what did you expect from me?" I asked, bringing his arms around my figure.

"This," Tristan whispered in my ear before catching my lips in a kiss, one that wasn't a product of our drunken stupor. One we were going to able to acknowledge in the morning.

"You taste better when I'm not drunk," I said into his lips, smiling when I heard an "Oh" sheepishly escape his mouth into mine. "Yeah, I remembered. Every single, minute, infinitesimal detail of that moment."

He blushed, the heat creeping to his cheeks. After sputtering a few responses that made no sense, Tristan finally found his words and replied in the best false nonchalant voice I'd ever heard emitted from him:

"Yeah? Well, in case you happen to forget, let me remind you; commit this to memory."

The last and final boarding calls for California and New York were left bellowing in the speakers above as Tristan's lips found mine once more.

It didn't matter what we were going to be doing after leaving the airport. It didn't matter that our bags were already in the airways or that we had both wasted money on tickets that were non-refundable. And, it didn't cross our minds once how the hell we were going to get back home without so much as a cell phone or quarter on hand to call home or phone a cab.

All that mattered was that whatever we were going to be doing, it would be together.

-v-v-v-v-

That afternoon was the last day of "I Dare You." It was the last time of either of us daring--challenging one another to be something more than what we were before. It was the last time we would search for something to dare upon, for what we were searching for was right there in front of us; every minute, of every hour, of every day it was accessible, yet the chance was never taken.

I learned two things from that retched, impractical, delirious game of ours that lasted only too long.

One being that love is a dare, no matter how irrational the dare itself may seem. It's the adventure in love that makes it the dare; that makes it a challenge from one person to another. It's what makes it a leap of faith that two people have to be eager to make across a canyon wider than the depths of an oceanic trench, parachutes and safety gear not included. Love is the force that beckons people together, the daring sense that makes them feel alive.

And the second thing: never, never, ever, stick your hand in a port-a-potty seat. Even if it is a triple dog dare.


Author's Note: And here we are. You have just entered the zone which I like to call the 'YEEHAW ZONE' for finishing a story, even as small as this one, deserves a "YEEHAW!" (I'm not very good with completing things, and probably wouldn't have finished this had it not been for a school assignment.

Much love,
-Amber