The Girlfriend Who Dared – Part 2: Day Eleven

By day eleven, the jar had become a ritual. Jesse drew a card every morning before coffee. Tia kept a notebook beside the jar, filled with checkmarks, small notes and one drawing of a pickle that she insisted was a self-portrait.

The dares had grown bolder, and kinder. Dance with me in the kitchen to a song from your childhood. Let me choose your outfit, and don't complain. Tell me the moment you knew you liked me. Jesse had answered that one with a crooked grin and a story about a girl who had laughed at his terrible jokes at a music festival in Joshua Tree.

"You were wearing a sombrero," said Tia.

"I was wearing a very good sombrero," said Jesse. "And you were the only one who didn't mock me."

"I was mocking you the whole time."

"I know. That's how I knew."

Today's card was harder. He read it twice before he showed her.

Let Tia lead you somewhere you've never been, and tell her, when you get there, what you feel.

"Where are we going?" he asked, turning the card over in his hands.

"Somewhere you've never been," said Tia. "But only if you agree."

"You're going to take me to a hiking trail, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

He grinned. "Fine. Lead me. But I'm not climbing anything with a rope."

They drove up into the hills above Los Angeles, past the palm trees and the sprawling houses, to a small, quiet lookout near the Griffith Park observatory. The sun was going down. The city spread below them in a glittering sheet of gold and blue.

Jesse stood at the railing and looked out, quiet for a long time.

"I've never been up here," he said. "I've lived in this city for six years."

"Neither had I," said Tia. "Until last week. I came up alone and sat on the bench for an hour, thinking about you."

He turned, surprised. "Why?"

"Because you make me brave," said Tia simply. "And I wanted to be brave somewhere quiet, first."

Jesse set his hand on the railing, very slowly, the way he did when he was about to say something that mattered.

"When did I know I liked you?" he said. "The card asked me that, but I didn't answer it properly."

"Tell me now," said Tia.

"It was the first time you made me say no," he said. "You told me you wouldn't try a dare unless I agreed with it first. Nobody had ever cared about that before. I thought, She's going to be dangerous to my heart."

Tia laughed, a little unsteadily. "Did you say no to anything else?"

"Only to the dance," said Jesse. "I'm still not sorry."

"Good," said Tia. "I'm glad you didn't dance with me in the car park."

He laughed, then stopped, and turned to face her fully. The sun had almost set. The lights of the city were coming on below them, one by one.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Yes."

"Would you like to stop playing for one night, and just be with me? No card. No dare. Just us, and the view, and whatever happens next?"

Tia's breath caught. She had planned thirty days. She had not planned for this.

"Yes," she said. "I'd like that."

"Can I kiss you?" he asked quietly, one hand resting on her waist.

"Yes," said Tia. "And if I say stop, you stop, and then we go home and I make you dance in the kitchen anyway."

He kissed her, slowly, with the city sparkling below and the warm evening air around them. It was not a dare, and it did not need to be one. When they parted, both of them were breathing a little fast and smiling.

"Green?" he asked, low.

"Green," said Tia. "Very green. Now pick the next card, Jesse. I want to see what's left in the jar."

"I think we've only got nineteen days to go," said Jesse, grinning.

"Then we'd better get started," said Tia, and took his hand, and led him down the hill towards home.