MINE TO BULLY
I didn't let myself think too hard about why that felt like betraying something.
The club was loud and dark, packed tighter than I expected for a Friday, lights sweeping colors across a floor full of bodies I had no interest in joining. Daniel steered us toward a booth in the back where a handful of his friends were already waiting, and somewhere between the second round of drinks nobody bothered checking IDs for and the bass getting louder, I actually laughed — the real kind, the kind that didn't cost me anything to give away.
"Okay," a girl across the table announced, grinning, phone already forgotten in her lap. "Truth or dare. New guy goes first. It's tradition."