The Game, Part Two

Part Two

My dare to Kate was more practical than anything else. I simply dared her to give me her phone for the service. It ensured that at least one of the two girls wouldn’t have the chance to somehow sneak a pic as things progressed, and also made sure that she wouldn’t be rudely texting during the service and drawing judgment from the more traditional adults that might notice.

And we were off.

Honestly, it wasn’t a super long or intensive game. Not every dare could be completed right away, as worship dips in and out of participation. Standing and sitting, reading and singing. Congregation members are involved in a good chunk of the service. Kate had to wink and throw a flirty smile to a nearby college boy. Abby had to write ‘SLUT’ on her thigh, ensuring she would have to be careful when seated for the rest of the day. And I had to take off my heels. 

All seemingly innocent dares, dares that would be laughable during a sleepover, but the risk of doing them in the middle of church made each one feel more daunting. Overtly flirting when anyone around could notice. Lifting a skirt and briefly showing way too much thigh when writing a dirty word. And sitting in the middle of church with cold tile on the soles of my feet. Barefoot might not seem that bad in comparison, but the knowledge that anyone could look over and see me making myself at home in such a sacred space made me uncomfortable pretty much the entire time.

It was nearly time for the sermon, and I quickly wrote “Game over” on the corner of my bulletin as we sat down after the gospel reading. However, both girls gave me a dirty look the moment they saw my message. I knew why, of course. Because they had both done one more dare than me. It’s not like I was trying to get out of doing an additional dare, but the sermon was about to start! There’s no way we could be passing notes and shifting around too much when everyone was supposed to be sitting still and listening.

Unfortunately, despite being older and more mature, I couldn’t hold my ground. My maturity was probably part of the problem. In my mind, I’d be setting a bad example to the slightly younger girls by not keeping things fair, despite how immature the game I was participating in was. A simple eye roll and tiny nod was all I gave, mouthing “one more” to at least show that I was still serious about the game being done.

I regretted my agreement instantly.

Abigail leaned across Kate to get closer to me, smirking and whispering, “I dare you to take off your underwear.”

What?! No. Absolutely not. 

Yeah, wearing a skirt made it possible, but that wasn’t the point. My conservative blue skirt went down to my knees, and I avoided even using the bathroom in such an outfit due to how I’d either have to pull it down and risk it getting dirty on a public bathroom floor, or hike it up a lot to pull my underwear down. But while seated in a stiff wooden pew, when everyone is settling in for a 20+ minute message? There’s no way someone wouldn’t notice. Not to mention that it would be highly inappropriate going commando at church.

Giving as stern of an older sister look that I could, I simply whispered “No” in response.

Abigail may have gotten away with getting me to play in the first place, but no amount of judgment or insistence from my younger sister and her friend could guilt trip me into removing my underwear. Or so I thought.

Apparently, Abigail had one or two other tricks up her sleeve. Quickly jotting down a message on her bulletin, she passed me a note. ‘Kate will spill my coffee if you don’t,’ complete with a little heart at the end of the message. Glancing back up from the note to her, the knowing smile on her face told me everything. She meant ‘accidentally’ spilling her iced coffee on ME. Where, I didn’t know. Over my skirt, down my chest. 

It wasn’t an empty threat. When we were in middle school, Abigail once fake spilled a good chunk of Diet Coke on my lap in the movie theater. She was annoyed at me for whatever immature reason that day, and it was a highly effective way of getting back at me. We were both really, really looking forward to the movie, and I wouldn’t miss a second of the premiere. So, rather than running to the bathroom, I simply sat there and let the sticky drink soak into my skirt and underwear, making for quite the uncomfortable movie experience.

This time wasn’t much different. I’d have to choose between sitting still with iced coffee all over me during the sermon, or quietly excusing myself and having half the church think I’m super clumsy thanks to how visible I’d appear during my exit. Not to mention how it might stain my nice clothes. It was blackmail, but it was also her response to me trying to back out of a dare. A ‘forfeit,’ in a way. Take my underwear off in the middle of church, or let Abigail pour cold coffee all over me. Well, Kate. Kate was the one sitting next to me, but I absolutely wouldn’t put it past her. I could attempt to stop her from doing so, but that would just make a scene. Church was quite the trap when you wanted to do anything else but sit still.

“Fine.” I caved, whispering to Abigail in response. I could feel my cheeks begin to warm at just the thought of doing it, or maybe it was to her lips pursed in a small victorious smile. How red would my face turn when actually committing the improper act? 

Glancing left and right, I then nervously gazed down at my skirt while trying to ignore the hushed giggles as Abigail nudged Kate. 

How was I even going to do this?! I could partially see those seated in front of us, and would certainly notice if one of the girls fidgeted too much. That means anyone behind me would be able to partially see my movements. Then there were those across the aisle to the left, and those seated off to the right. No one was directly next to the three of us, but they’d still easily be able to see me if they happened to look over. If I had my sewing scissors with me, I seriously would have considered just cutting my underwear off. It would be a shame to ruin them, but the price would be worth it if I could avoid hiking my skirt up so far. 

As the reader finished up the last scripture verse before the sermon, I concluded that there were no good options. I’d just have to go to the bathroom and come back without my underwear on. Or . . . or I could ‘go to the bathroom’ and not come back at all! It’d be easy enough to stand up, walk to the back, and attend the rest of the service away from my sister and her best friend. Underwear still on, and no coffee on my clothes. Barefoot, but I could live with that.

Plucking the bulletin from Abigail’s hand, I jotted down a quick note before passing it back to her. Informing her I’d be completing my dare in the bathroom, and would be right back. In retrospect, I should have just stood up and left with no warning. The church girl in me, however, had the reflex to inform the group I was seated with where I was going. 

In a flash, Abigail stood up, squeezed past Kate and then roughly between my kneecaps and the pew in front of us, and plopped down on my other side. Perfect timing, as it was right while the reader was returning to his seat and the pastor was stepping to the pulpit. The last chance to do anything before the sermon started. Jotting down a note of her own, Abigail passed the bulletin back to me. ‘No. That’s boring.’ As I read, stuck between the two girls, Kate passed the Starbucks drink back to my sister. If I wanted to leave on the left side, I’d have to make it past Abigail and her coffee. If I wanted to leave on the right side, I’d have to push past Kate, a small family seven or eight feet away, and an older couple at the very end of the pew. 

Abigail’s little smirk told me everything. She had me. Either I needed to find a way to get my underwear off in the middle of church, or I would end up with coffee all over my nice clothes. Something told me she’d be happy with either outcome.

Sighing heavily, I made my choice. 

I was actually going to take my underwear off.