Short Story: Take a Dare - A Success Story About Lasting Love

New Year's Eve, 1981. Sixteen-year-old Liz makes her way through the crowded house talking to various friends. Although she is not one of the popular girls, she gets along with nearly everyone at school. In a mirror in the hallway, she catches a glimpse of her reflection—five-foot-four, trim figure, hazel eyes, and blonde hair held back with a red ribbon.

"Hey, Liz, are we still going to the basketball game on Tuesday night?" her friend, Jeremy, shouts over the music from the other side of the dining room.

"Sure, pick me up around five and we can grab something to eat before we go," she yells back. He gives her a big smile and a thumbs up.

Liz sees her best friend, Joleen, with her boyfriend Joel, their arms wrapped around each other. "Have you seen him?" Joleen asks as Liz makes her way over to them.

"No," Liz replies and sighs with irritation.

"Well, I did. Bethany was hanging all over him," Joleen informs her. "He didn't look like he minded too much either."

"It is not as if he is saving himself for me. He doesn't even know I like him."

"Yeah, he does." Joel gives her a mischievous grin.

"Joel! You are kidding, right?" Liz feels butterflies taking over her stomach and heat creeping up her neck along with a red glow. When Joel doesn't answer right away, Liz's anxiety rises further.

"No, just kidding," Joel says finally, "but it's only a matter of time. You need to talk to him, hang out with him, see how he acts."

Liz knows he is right, and Joleen confirms it with a constantly nodding head as Joel talks.

She hugs Joleen and then winks. "I'll see you later. I'm going to go see who is downstairs."

As Liz walks away she hears Joleen tell Joel, "I have to see this. I will be right back."

The girls hook arms and giggle as they go downstairs. The clock on the wall reads eleven-thirty. A half-hour to midnight, Liz registers.

The game room, complete with a ping-pong table and a pool table, is crowded with teenagers. Next to the wall a few feet away from the pool table is a big, overstuffed chair. Liz's heart flips when she sees who is sitting there—Abe. Eighteen years old, six-foot-three, dark skin, chocolate-brown eyes, and dark, curly, shoulder-length brown hair. His tight Levi jeans show every muscle in his long legs. She can tell by looking at him that this country boy spends his summers working outdoors and his winters in the sale barns.

"He's a hunk," Joleen whispers in her ear. Then she adds, "Well, gotta go. Joel is waiting for me." She gives Liz a push and runs back upstairs.

Not wanting him to think she is too interested, Liz makes her way around the room and talks to just about everybody but him. Her friend, Brennan, pulls her into his arms and kisses her on the cheek. She giggles and pushes him away, aware that Abe could be watching her. The thought that Abe might get a little jealous crosses her mind when Brennan says, "Come on, be my sweetie, and give me smooches." He continues to peck kisses on her face.

Pushing him back, Liz can't help but laugh, even though Brennan's attention is becoming uncomfortable. What if Abe took it the wrong way and thinks she has a reputation of going from guy to guy—instead of Brennan just being a silly guy friend? Breaking away from Brennan's embrace, Liz talks to him and his friends. She casts a curious glance toward Abe to see what he is doing. Their eyes lock.

As she looks away, Liz wonders if he is checking her out the same way she is checking him out? Only one way to find out. "Hey, Brennan, I will see you later," she says, pointing both index fingers at him and giving him an exaggerated wink.

When Abe gets up to shoot his round of pool, Liz walks over casually and sits in his chair, knowing this will force him to talk to her. If there is ever going to be a time to get up the nerve to approach him, she tells herself, now is that moment. She dares herself to take a chance.

As Abe makes his pool shot, her heart beats so fast and hard, Liz wonders if anyone else can hear it. Trying to look casual, despite the blush burning her face, Liz waves and smiles at people walking in and out of the game room.

Casting a quick look at her watch, she notices it is eleven-fifty and contemplates the different ways this night could end.

After his shot at the pool table, Abe makes his way over to the chair. He stands in front of her, one eyebrow raised. "You're in my chair," he says.

Liz smiles at him flirtatiously and with a daring sparkle in her eyes. "You got up, now it is my chair."

His grin shows white teeth and dimpled cheeks.

Without a word Abe takes her by the wrist, easily draws her hundred-pound body out of the chair, sits down, and pulls her onto his lap. Although she is thrilled with the outcome of her self-dare, she pretends to be a bit outraged. "What do you think you are doing?" she demands.

"I'm taking my chair back. If you want to sit here, you can, but I will be the one sitting in the chair. So I guess you will just have to be happy on my lap."

Before she is able to come back with a spunky retort, the crowd throughout the house starts the New Year's count down. "10, 9, 8…"

Abe and Liz stay in the chair and give each other an intense look. The game of dare just got serious.

"7, 6, 5, 4…" the crowd chants.

Is he going to kiss me? Should I let him? Liz's mind races at the pace of her heart.

"3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

All around them couples hug and kiss. Others run from one person to another to greet as many as possible with a good luck kiss for the new year, 1982.

Through the countdown, their eyes never wavered; neither made a move. Now Abe reaches up, puts his hand on her neck, and gently pulls her into a kiss…

New Year's Eve, 2006. The house is crowded with friends. As the hostess, Liz makes sure the guests are settled in with their favorite snacks and drinks as she enjoys jovial conversations with friends. Laughter is heard throughout the house.

At five minutes to midnight, she looks around for her husband and sees him talking to their friends. On the wall near him hangs the family portrait: the two of them, their 20-year-old son, and 13-year-old daughter. He's still six-foot-three, but the long hair is now a military-style flattop with a balding crown. Suspenders pull his jeans above his waist. His black sweatshirt, picked specifically for New Year's Eve, reads "Save Water, Drink Beer."

His military friends call him Major Bubba, but to her he is the sexiest man in the room. Feeling a bit tired, Liz sits down at the table with her girlfriends. When he looks over at her, his dimpled smile still melts her heart. Noticing it is nearly midnight the men make their way to their wives and girlfriends.

He walks toward her with a raised eyebrow. "You're in my chair," Abe drawls.

Liz smiles and gives him a look that dares him to remove her from the chair.

The noise in the house rises with the countdown. "10, 9, 8…"

He takes her by the wrist and pulls her one-hundred-fifteen-pound frame from the chair, sits down, and playfully yanks her onto his lap.

"7, 6, 5, 4…," the crowd chants.

Liz throws her arms around his neck and giggles like a teenage girl.

"3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Everyone in the room reaches for their partners and the traditional New Year's kiss. Abe bends her back until she feels herself falling out of the chair and into his arms. Her husband of twenty-two years gives her a wonderfully passionate kiss. She responds in kind.

After the kiss, they both laugh and hug each other as if they are sharing a titillating, lovers' secret. Her dare pays off again.

© sholland10 2011. All rights reserved.