Dare You To (Pushing the Limits 2)

o look at her. She is pretty. More than pretty. I stare at my shoes. Get a grip, Ryan.

She’s a dare.

“I’m pretty?” Beth raises her voice and I glimpse the other students climbing the bleachers and taking their seats. Their chatter stops and they watch the two of us. This is not how this moment is supposed to go.

“I’m pretty,” she repeats loud enough for the entire gym to hear. The evil sparkle in her eye informs me that she’s enjoying the social lynching. “Is that the best line you can come up with? Let’s fast-forward this entire conversation so you can stop wasting my time. ” She holds up the palm of her hand and even though the word is gone, I still see my defeat: can’t.

Tim Richardson imitates the whistle of a bomb dropping from the sky and uses his hands to create the explosion. “Crash and burn, Ry. Good to hear that the new girl has some standards. When you’re done playing with the ballplayer, Beth, you can come play with me. ”

“Back off, Tim,” I say in a low, clear warning. If Tim wants to cut me down—fine, but he leaves Beth out of it. Girls will be treated with respect.

“Don’t pretend you’re trying to defend me. ”

Beth’s eyes narrow. “You’re pissed off that I’m not falling at your feet in worship like the rest of this pathetic school. ”

More laughter from the crowd. Idiots. She also put them down.

“You can’t keep up,” she whispers. “Stay the hell away from me. ”

Screw this. I can do anything.

Coach Knox blows his whistle and the entire class turns to face him. “Last order of business for the day. We need one senior girl and one senior guy nominated for the homecoming court. We’ll start with guys. ”

Several hands rise. I can’t keep up? She’s so wrong.

“Raise your hand if you want Tim Richardson. ” Coach nods with each hand he counts.

I’m the king at this school. I can win any dare, any time. Win any game. If she wants to play, we’ll play. She doesn’t want the world to know she’s Scott Risk’s niece. Skater Girl humiliated me and she’s about to learn that turnabout is fair play.

“Now for the girls,” says Coach.

My hand rises in the air at the same time as everyone else’s, but I’m not giving anybody else the opportunity to supply another name.

“Beth Risk. ”

Hands drop. All gazes flicker between me and Beth. Her feet fall off the seat, one right after another—clomp, clomp. “What did you say?”

“Did you say Risk?” asks Tim. “As in Scott Risk? As in the baseball god who just moved back to our town?”

A wave of whispers crashes among the students sitting on the bleachers, Beth’s name the topic of each hushed conversation. Ignoring Tim, I face Beth. Her blue eyes blaze like twin flames from a blowtorch. Who’s not keeping up now? “I nominate you, Beth Risk, for homecoming court. ”

“No. ” She shakes her head. “You can’t. ”

“Yes. ” I love winning. “I can. ”

“I second it,” says Gwen with a bright smile plastered on her face, and red flags rise. She’s wanted the homecoming crown since she was three.

Beth jerks up and stamps her foot against the bleacher like a toddler throwing a fit. “No, you can’t. Nominate yourself. ”

“It’s okay,” says Gwen, “I was already nominated in first and second period. ”

“So was I. ” I waggle my eyebrows at Beth.

“We could walk on the field together. Won’t that be fun?”

Beth stands completely still, mouth slightly slack, her hands held out to her sides with her fingers spread. I finally nailed the girl who’s been nailing me for weeks.

Coach Knox claps his hands to get our attention. “All in favor of adding Beth to the football homecoming court raise their hands. ”