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Forget the pizza, the fries, and the milkshake we'd be feasting over. In my mind, Red is already dancing on top of one of the tables here at Blaze Pizza or maybe even outside, on the streets of Boston. I might even ask him to sing and dance. Or maybe even do a Mr. Bean impersonation. And this is the part when I do an evil genius laugh to cue a eureka moment.
I'm pretty sure that I look all weird and silly smiling at nothing in particular while we're lining up to pay, but then again, I can't help it. In my mind, the cherry tomatoes already failed to impress me, which would only mean one thing: Red would have to do a dare, thanks to his self-imposed bet. And thinking of the most crazy dare possible would be perfect for such a confident preppy boy like him.
"Okay, ," I reply while desperately trying to wipe off the smirk off my face. "You better be ready because there is no backing out from what you said, and like I mentioned earlier, I'm not a big fan of fruits and vegetables and tomatoes. Especially these things called cherry tomatoes so yeah – you have no way out of the dare."
"Not worried," he says. "I'm sure you'll fall in love with the cherry tomatoes so I just want to tell you in advance, I'm not shaking in my pants. And if you ever do fake your dislike for them, I hope you can sleep tonight. The guilt is all yours to live with."
He's good. I feel like I've found the perfect debate partner.
"We'll see," I reply as I hand him my pizza.
He only gives a small chuckle as he puts both of our work on the counter and pays for them. I, on the other hand, head back to the far end of the restaurant and grab a good seat for us– the one right in the middle of the 25-meter-or-so-long gla.s.s window where the neon lights hung. The blinking bright red, blue, and pink bulbs look magical against the other dazzlingly lit establishments outside. It's beautiful and serene and somewhere along the lines, romantic.
Thanks to a number of couples walking down the street, the nerves on the back of my neck constrict. I could almost feel them strangle me as if to say, "Romance does not exist in your life, Liz. Your emotional quotient is too low, unfortunately."
There was even a middle-aged man and a young woman smooching over the bench right under the lamppost, which was literally 50 meters away from where I am. I don't know if it was envy or disgust that I was feeling, but it sure did me make look away.
I diverted my attention to the brightly lit food establishments nearby. Bleacher Bar. Cask'n Flagon. Beerworks No.1. Hojoko. Limelight Stage and Studios. Limelight's lights and signs were brighter than the others. More people were also lining up on the outside it.
I look closer. A bar. I look even closer, and realize that it's not just a bar. It's a family KTV Bar, which makes it more intriguing. There it is with all its bright and inviting neon signs right across the street triggering a memory I wish I did not have in the first place.
You see, it was in a similarly bright fun-looking KTV Bar where I embarra.s.sed myself so bad that at that moment, I wished that the earth would gobble me up, transport me to Jupiter, and give me some mild amnesia so I would never have to remember that nasty, embarra.s.sing, and rather traumatizing moment. I was only a foolish 15-year-old girl who agreed to do a dare for my best friend. I did this so I didn't have to tell them about my latest eye candy.
This eye candy who was the captain of our school's soccer team. I was convinced that if I told my friends about him or even gave them the slightest hint, they'd know. He was just too famous and easy to spot. And if they did find out, I was positive that they'd make me come up to him and confess. My pride would not let this happen, hence, the dare.
Sofia, my best friend, who had just done a dare herself, dared me. I chose her out of my other friends because she was the one I had the closest bond with; I so strongly believed that she would be nice and kind and understanding when she thought of the dare I'd do.
But what I didn't know then but what I do know now is that it was the worst possible idea I might have ever come up with.
"You know me," I say after Sofia asked me the question, 'Truth or dare?'
"Dare," I add.
"Come on, Lizzie," she answered. "You have to spill the beans! It's high school for Prada's sake. I'm your best friend!"
"I love you, Sof," I tell her. "But I still cannot get over the fact that you told Jonas that he was my crush in 8th grade and acted as though it was the most normal thing to do two days right after I told you about it."
"That was last year," she answered as she reached out to me, her crimson-painted nails digging into my skin. "And the only reason why I did it was because it was Janelle's dare. You know how she can be when it comes to these kinds of games; that girl can get really crazy."
"Exactly," I reply while softly shoving her hands aside. "It was just last year, Sofia. I trust you when it comes to group projects, party surprises, and beauty advice, just not with my secrets. But that doesn't matter because we're still best friends so please just let me do this dare, just not the truth; you know I'm a horrible liar."
"Fine then, a dare then," she finally said. I probably did a happy dance in my head. "Sing your favorite song."
"REALLY," I reply happily. For a moment, I was thankful that it didn't sound as hard as what she asked our other girlfriends to do for a dare. "I can do that."
I took my phone out so I could sing along with my music. I was just about to play it when she cut me off and grabbed my phone. But I was kind of used to that, so I wasn't exactly angry or shook.
"Not that fast," she added. "Sing it at my party this Friday night at CenterStage, the KTV and family res...o...b..r in the city. Everyone in the squad is coming so you better come; I'm now putting it on your calendar so you'll have no reason to miss it."
"Please tell me you're kidding," I said. "You do know how tight my parents are when it comes to random hanging out and fun; I can't go unless it's a birthday."
"I'll ask my mom to ask yours," she replied. "Don't worry. It's just going to be our inner circle. And you're not going to be the only doing your dare there so I hope that's a little consolation for your part."
Ask her mom to ask my mom, she did. And just like that, on a Friday night, I hurried back home after a meeting with the student council, put on my only flashy-looking party dress – a spaghetti-strapped red knee-length dress – and matching red suede flats, kissed my mom goodbye, and prayed every prayer I could think of. Lord, spare me from prospective embarra.s.sment. I must have thought then.
To say that I sweating like a sinner in church was putting it mildly. As I stepped out of our vehicle and into the brightly lit venue, I felt excited and scared, thinking that I'd be singing in front of our friends, which I've never done before. But I was, in some ways, mistaken.
Later, I found out that I wasn't just going to be doing the dare in front of my best friends and Sofia's other circle of friends; I was going to do it front of my friends, Sofia's other circle of friends, her older brother, and her brother's circle of friends. And by her brother's circle of friends, and as you might have guessed, I mean the whole soccer team–Joshua, who was then the guy whom I really badly liked, included.
I don't know if it was fate or if it was all Sofia's plan – after all, she may have had an inkling about my little crush on the guy – that I ended up being paired with him for a duet just like how Gabriella Montez was semi-forced to sing with Troy Bolton in High School Musical.
The only difference between what happened in that wonderful movie and what happened to me in real life is the fact that my friends forced me.
"You got this," Sofia whispered before she left me hanging with Joshua. I don't even remember looking at him or asking him what he thought about all that fuss then.
What I do recall is that I didn't end up singing. What happened for the next three or four minutes while I was on that stage was some off-key singing and horrible harmonizing with Joshua as we tried to get through a song we barely knew.
I can't even exactly describe our duet accurately. What I can say, however, is that I remember secretly thinking that I wish I hadn't come and that I should have just stayed at home and spent the whole night reading books. I wouldn't have had to be shaking in my shoes onstage that night. I wouldn't be thinking about this.
But the damage had already been done. Yes, no one found out about my interest in Joshua, the great captain of the soccer team, but then everyone saw me perform poorly, thanks to my uncooperative vocal nerves and excessive heartbeat. I didn't even bother watching the video Sofia uploaded.
Trust me, it was the worst of all the worst moments I have ever had. Period.
"Hey," Red says while placing our food on the table. "You okay?"
It was then and only then when I finally snapped out of my little trip down memory lane and realized that none of all that awkward jazz mattered at the moment.
"Oh," I reply while giving him a hand with the tray. "Yeah, I'm good."
"Well then, bon appet.i.t," he said while placing our fries and milkshakes on the table. "You're welcome."
"No, Red, you're welcome. We're still going to discuss how we'll make you the next big star or the next Justin Bieber, remember?"
"Can't wait," he replies.
As soon as he finished his silent prayer, he dug in and never stopped. I couldn't help but smile at his silly ways. He no longer acted suave and macho; to me, he was like a little kid who's been waiting for this special meal. He was, in equal ways, funny and adorable.
On the other hand, I could only look at my pizza like a fool. It was so huge I felt like it could feed three more people. While I know that I am hungry, right now, this ginormous pizza is so overwhelming that I don't think I can possibly bring myself to even finish a quarter.
"Come on," Red says. "Don't tell me you're not eating it just so I'd do that dare."
I raise my eyes to meet his and immediately look back at my custom-made baby. My thoughts? No, I'm not touching it not because I want you to do a dare for me; it's just too big and I don't even know how I'm going to start eating it.
"Fine," he says. "Even if you end up liking those Cherry Tomatoes, I'll still do the dare."
I help myself to a slice and chew it slowly. I am sure what exactly made it taste like this, but I am sure that it tastes so good I could have this pizza every day for every meal for the rest of my life.
"Hey," I tell him. "This is amazing. I think I found the best career fit; I'll be a pizza connoisseur."
He laughs. I continue eating as I help myself to a second slice. I'm usually good with just one slice but tonight, I slowly feel like this 12-inch pizza is something that I can actually finish.
"Good idea," he replies. "And when that happens, you're going to need a million other Liz clones for your business to survive. The only thing that saved your little experiment was my cherry tomatoes and you know it."
"Well, aren't you such a gentleman?" I tell him. I'm now on slice number three.
"So I've been told," he replies.
"So you've been fooled."
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"Like you?"
"You know what?" I tell him on a more serious note. "I can debate about this nonsense topic until 2100, but then again, for the sake of fun and entertainment, why don't we finish this dinner and get on with the dare."
"I'm shaking," he replies.
"Amazing," I reply while bringing another slice of the delicious pizza to my mouth. "Please tell me that KTV Bars here don't have age restrictions or I'd have to think of a more humiliating dare for you to do."
"Pubs require customers to be at least 21," he answers. Now done with his pizza, he is now gobbling his share of the fries we ordered. "And besides, exactly what kind of bar are you thinking of?"
"It's just right across the street," I answer as I pointed at the neon-lit sign Limelight Stage and Studios. "And it's a KTV Bar, the kind that allows kids as young as ten or twelve in."
"Well then, you won't be having a problem," he answers.
"But I haven't even told you the dare yet," I reply, munching on another slice of pizza. "But don't worry, I'm sure you can handle it."
"Go on."
"You see, I have this idea, which I think you'll dread at first but eventually enjoy," I tell him. "I dare you to sing a song onstage at that KTV Bar, Limelight Stage."