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An Honest Lie(30)

Author:Tarryn Fisher

“This is just my luck. First getaway in a year and we’re stuck in a monsoon.” Ursa uncorked a minibottle of vodka and sipped miserably from it as she stared at her magenta toenails. Rainy sat in the only armchair with its back to the large expanse of windows. She was trying not to look anxious.

“We should play a game,” Braithe suggested. “Until this clears up.”

“Like what kind?” Mac asked.

“Leave it to the kindergarten teacher to vet the game!” Tara sang. “Might as well play something good, since this isn’t going anywhere.”

“We could do dares!” Ursa chose a bag of M&M’s from the minibar and studied the wrapper.

“Stop counting calories!” Braithe threw a pillow at the younger woman, who started, then smiled.

“I’m too old for dares,” Braithe said. “Maybe something more…inspiring.”

Tara chortled from where she sat on the sofa. “Who wants to play an inspiring game? This isn’t a women’s conference. I thought we were here to have fun.” To emphasize her point, she raised her arms above her head and shook her hair around like a dancer in an eighties music video. In her year of knowing them, Rainy had never witnessed Tara mock or question anything that Braithe did. Braithe was staring at Tara, equally as disturbed. She looked around to see if Mac or Ursa had noticed, but they were alert and interested in the game idea, not the sharp tones in which it was presented.

“That’s right,” Ursa agreed. “Why don’t we each ask a question that everyone in the room has to answer. That way, you can customize your game-playing experience and ask inspiring or nosy questions.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Mac agreed.

From across the room, Tara rolled her eyes and mouthed, “Of course she does.” At some point, Tara had changed from her jeans into cotton shorts and a tank top. She strolled over to the chair next to Rainy, considered it and moved to a chair on the other side of the room instead.

Rainy felt uncomfortable with the game right away. Being forced to answer personal questions directed at her by Tara, Ursa and Mac? No, thanks. But the rest of them were reluctantly crowding around the suite’s living room, finding chairs. Braithe was ripping the hotel’s notepad into thin strips of paper.

“Here,” she said, handing them around. “Write your question on this paper and try to disguise your handwriting!”

They all took a slip and one of the pens Braithe passed out and stared at her expectantly.

“Do we all have to answer the question, or is it one person per question?” Mac wanted to know. Ursa yawned and Mac said, “No, you have to stay awake. Dinner is at ten.” Rainy scratched her foot with her other foot and tried to pretend she wasn’t terrified of what they’d ask her. Let it be one question per person, she pleaded mentally.

Tara settled it. “One each or it’ll take forever.” They’d each draw a question and, unless it was their own, they’d have to answer.

“They can’t just be any questions. You have to ask really prying questions,” Tara emphasized. But they all knew each other—had known each other for years. They’d only be prying into Rainy’s life with their drilling nosiness. You only have to answer one, she reminded herself, tapping her foot with the pen.

She scribbled down her question, hoping the others would be just as straightforward, and tossed her slip into the ice bucket Mac had put on the table for that purpose. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk her wine so fast; she was feeling weird. She wished Grant would call her so she’d have an excuse to leave the room. It would be a great time for Viola to go into labor, she thought miserably.

“Okay, okay,” Mac called. “Here it is…first question.” She held the slip of paper up, reading it carefully to herself before her face underwent several expressions, one of them embarrassment.

“Spit it out, Mackenzie,” Ursa said, and then added: “I hope it’s mine!” She rubbed her hands together theatrically.

Mac cleared her throat. “What was your first sexual experience? Describe in great detail.”

Braithe cackled.

“Yessssss!” Ursa sat upright.

Mac looked around at them nervously and then reached for her wineglass.

“My youth group was on this camping trip,” she said. “So the guys were in one area and the girls in another and we had a chaperone in each camp. One day, the girls arranged to meet the guys at the lake after our youth leaders fell asleep. They were going to skinny-dip, but I didn’t want to do it, because I was, like, terrified we’d get caught, so I stayed behind in the tent.” Her face got really pale, and Rainy felt sick. This wasn’t going to be good. She wanted to reach out and tell Mac that she didn’t owe anything to these women, and she didn’t have to say another word if she didn’t want to.

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