I press my lips together. According to Walker, everyone knows. Which means Dean knows too.
This is an opportunity.
I smile back at Dean. "You have a certain charisma."
Dean's smile gets even smugger. "Told you."
Ryan shakes his head. "It's pity. That's it. She feels sorry for you."
"Yeah? Want to hit the clubs and see who's got more charisma?" Dean's voice is a challenge. A playful challenge, but still.
"No." Ryan just stops himself from rolling his eyes. "I have shit to do."
I rest my cup on my thigh and focus all my energy on the amber liquid. This is supposed to be a fun game. The point is getting your friends drunk. That's it.
I hang back for a few more rounds, laughing as the guys take shots at each other. Never have I ever used "That's nice ink" as a pick-up line.
Never have I ever dyed my hair.
Never have I ever worn eyeliner.
Then Dean is standing.
Well, trying to stand. He's well past tipsy.
He surveys the room with the same sniper-like precision as Ryan.
He looks to Brendon. Then to me.
"This may be a suicide mission, but I don't care." He holds up his glass. "Never have I ever had sex."
My fingers slip.
Plastic bounces off the hardwood.
Then my drink is spilling on the floor.
And my blush is spreading all the way to my chest.
Everyone is looking at me.
And they know. I can see it in their faces. They know I'm a virgin.
They know I'm head over heels for Brendon.
They know it's never going to happen.
"I... Um... I'll get a towel," I say.
"I've got it." Ryan shoots his brother a death glare.
"What?" Dean tosses his empty cup to the floor. He pulls his wallet from his jeans, pulls a hundred-dollar bill from it, and slaps it into Brendon's hands. "That's yours."
Brendon stares daggers, but he takes the money.
He bet Dean I was a virgin.
"Fuck you." Brendon pushes himself to his feet.