Chapter 1

“Well, now that the birthday boy has made his wish and we’ve eaten some cake, how about some games?” I heard my mother suggest to our sizable gathering.

Present were my father, Jules, my stepfather, Ambrose, my stepmother, Katja, my mother, Ariel (yes, that was her actual name ... blame the Little Mermaid for that), my half-sisters Lora, Molly, Allura, and Dawn, my stepsisters from Dad’s side, Alexis and Nadia, my stepbrother from Dad’s side, Wladyslaw, my stepbrother from Mom’s side, Bruce, and my stepsisters from Mom’s side, Samantha and Hannah. Also present were my cousins, Nigel, Betsy, and Diane. Oh, and of course, Aunt Jordan and Uncle Dean, my mother’s sister and her husband.

Then there was my former babysitter, Karen, and her daughters, Erica and Brooke. Then there were the senior and youth pastors of Mom’s regular church, Savior’s Lutheran Church, and their wives, Cassidy and Robin. The assistant pastor, Ernest, couldn’t make it, but his wife Sabrina did so, too. I never much cared for the clergy and was personally very glad that Dad never finished Jesuit seminary and became a priest as he once planned. Sometimes, however, you have to swallow these things, yes, even at one’s own birthday party ... sometimes, especially, then.

Last to show up at the party, but far from least, was my classmate and friend, Angie Caruso. She wasn’t alone, either, as her annoying boyfriend Beau made the trip. I had to confess to myself that this was an unlucky break for me. Beau had a knack for being insanely jealous of anything that Angie did with other guys, even the most platonic and friendzoned of them, such as me. Yeah, yeah, I know, the friend zone supposedly doesn’t exist, but tell that to me when watching Angie waste her life with a loser like Beau.

Luckily, no one had asked me my wish, crazy as it was. It might well have been embarrassing had I told them without having it come true. Then again, thankfully, such wishes were supposed to be secrets, anyway. I didn’t have to tell a soul until I was good and ready to try it out, which I didn’t expect to do just yet.

Well, I was half-right. The first few games were tame ones, despite no one present being under fourteen, but as the evening wore on and boredom set in, the gathering split into various smaller groups ... one larger group among the teens. Charades wore a bit thin when you’ve managed to sneak in a little weed and booze right under your parent’s noses. Even Risk wasn’t risky enough.

We were probably at the point where people might have gone home if some of the grown-ups hadn’t drunk a little liquid cheer in the form of beer, cocktails, and wine. Even after a heavy meal and some dessert, liquor could catch up with one and put him or her in the right kind of mood, or dare I say, “spirit?” They all began dozing, crashing, zoning or spacing out, and even vegging out in front of the TV and DVR.

That was when Angie foolishly brought up “Truth or Dare,” casually dropping hints that she wanted to play it with us. All of the girls, as well as Bruce and Wladyslaw, wanted to play it. I was cautious and waited for the reactions before making the final push. I had cause to be, as it turned out from judging Beau’s angry scowl. He was every bit as jealous as ever, very much to a fault. He probably attended just to make sure that Angie behaved herself. Well, he was in for a rude awakening.

“No way, Jose. We’re not playing that! We’re going home, you and I! I didn’t move you into my place just after graduation to have you playing games of that nature with your supposed ‘bestie’ like that. I moved you in because I wanted to marry you and settle down with you. Have you bear my kids. That kind of thing. Is THIS your idea of being ‘just friends’ with a dude? That’s what I worry about, that a guy and gal can’t just be friends, because of this kind of thing!” Beau betrayed his preppy sense of entitlement as well as his maddening jealousy.

At that point, I dropped all caution, eager to drive the couple apart. Even if I never stood a chance with Angie myself. I wanted nothing more than to break them up and cock-block that arrogant, narcissistic prick. It was the principle of the thing. Guys like Beau should never be allowed to mate, let alone breed. They should be gelded at the first signs of douchebaggery, like a bad stallion or something. Well, if the wish did by some off-chance come true, I could at the very least ruin Beau’s love life for a while.

Did I mention that I hated that butthead? He was quite literally a butthead, too. The guy smoked like a chimney. Not even menthols, either, which might have been forgivable. He preferred to roll his own, too, as if that made him some kind of genius to be able to roll a damn cancer stick! In fact, just then, he rolled another one when he didn’t think that I noticed and proceeded to make Angie light it for him.

“Um ... nope! Not doing that here! No second hand cigarette smoke in my bedroom, butthead! Oh, and just for that, I’m siding with Angie here. I was on the fence about this, but now that’s your penalty for smoking in my room, trying to sneak it past me, and making my best friend light it for you. If you’re able to roll it yourself, hotshot, you can damn well light that sucker yourself, too! She’s your girlfriend, not your damn maid!” I took up for Angie in more ways than one, no doubt causing some folks to call me a “simp” by now.

Oh, shove it! She was my best friend for years. Call me lazy, but it’s easy enough for both guys and gals to fall into a rut and even friend zone themselves as well as each other. Besides, this was the golden opening to strike and shake things up a bit.

“All in favor of ‘Truth or Dare,’ raise your hands! All opposed, stick your fingers up your butts and loosen up those tight asses of yours!” Angie cleverly put Beau on the spot now, making everyone but him chuckle, too.

Beau grew redder in the face by the second, but whether it was due to anger, humiliation, or embarrassment was anyone’s guess. I snorted as he cleared his throat and tried to argue one more time against me. His hands were shakier by the minute, too, no doubt due to nicotine withdrawal. I smirked as I realized that and thought up a plan.

“You want to smoke? Fine. Go outside and smoke on the patio! The rest of us are gonna hang out and play ‘Truth or Dare.’ Have fun!” I taunted him with a real dilemma ... get his nicotine fix or chaperone his own girlfriend.