Survival Of The Fittest

Feigning a staggering disappointment, Connor's hand flew to his chest. "Aww, shucks. I can't choose myself? Well, damn." He smiled at Zen, openly contemplative. Not that he would have picked himself - he wasn't that conceited, and he honestly only graded his own looks as slightly above-average anyway. He likely wouldn't win any modelling contests among the guys of George Hunter High; not that he cared.

Making a show of glancing around the room, Connor took stock of who was around, more looking for Madison than anyone. Had she been in the room, his turn would have been a non-issue, and he would have escaped literally any potential damage. Certainly, not like Zen had with Misty's phone trick. He still wondered what her ultimate goal was with that little stunt. Taking a sip of his beer, his brow furrowed a little. Madison was nowhere to be seen; the small game of cards or whatever was happening across the room wouldn't have been her scene, anyway.

Madison Springer, quietly playing cards? Not in this reality, he smirked to himself.

Enjoying another gulp of the cool liquid from his drink, he thought for a moment. How best to answer the question? It was innocent enough - odds are he probably should have picked dare, as Zen didn't seem like the malicious type - and anything he said would likely be forgotten as the game went on. He put a hand to his chin.

"Y'all are makin' it hard on me here. We've got a real pretty truth or dare circle, I tell you what."

Giving it one more thought, his mind settled on what was likely the safest choice, and the least likely to sound like a cop-out.

"That's a real tough one, but I have to say that I think Ms. Browder over there probably takes the cake. Lookin' real lovely tonight, Misty." He smiled at the compliment, and looked back over at Zen.

"So it's my turn now?"

He already knew exactly where he was going next, he thought with a pang of amusement.

If Jeff's eyes had rolled any further, they'd have fallen right out of his skull. He hadn't expected anything interesting to come from Connor to begin with, but the fact that he went for a Truth was just lame. And this particular Truth was hardly embarrassing, like Zen had just basically thrown him a softball. Overall, this round was an absolute wash and he just took a sip of his water bottle as the lame event ran its course.

On the other hand, him decided to compliment Misty's appearance did give Jeff an idea. Yes, thank you Connor, he thought with a degree of satisfaction that didn't extend at all to his face. Outwardly, he was still scowling, expressing nothing but disdain for what had been a weaksauce question with an equally tepid answer, but inwardly, the wheels were beginning to turn. This would make for an excellent setup, assuming that he was the next one to go.

Then Connor asked if it was his turn, and this just tried Jeff's patience. They'd been going for how long exactly and he still had to ask if it was his turn? He had to conclude that Connor was being intentionally obtuse because he thought it would make him more charming or something. He'd read somewhere that people found fake ignorance funny. But Jeff wasn't one of those people, that was for certain.

"Why do you even bother asking if you already know?" he said. "Just get on with it."

Connor laughed as Jeff continued to attempt to have as little fun as was humanly possible. Once more, classic Jeff. Being the captain of the football team meant that Connor had to lead by example, but more than a few times, he'd had to talk people down from tearing a strip off the ever-serious senior. Something about him rubbed people the wrong way - maybe it was that mishap above his upper lip - but Connor didn't let the jab bother him. In fact, it was just the opposite. Taking a sip as he nodded, he looked around the room once more.

Finally, his eyes returned to Jeff, a twinkle in his eye. Thickening his accent, Connor took on the parlance of an old-timey Tennessee sheriff, who'd just walked into the saloon and found the man he was looking for.

"Jeffrey Greene!" He paused, tilting the back of his own beer in his direction. "Truth or dare."

Jeff needed to chill out, and he hadn't gone, so he was the natural next target.

Connor was going to enjoy this.

So, it had come to this, then. Jeff had gambled on Connor choosing him, and here he was. But much like he also predicted, Connor was going to make this as unbearable an experience as he could. The insufferable prick had even gone the extra mile and referred to him as "Jeffrey" instead of Jeff. This was a challenge, direct and simple, and if he blinked now, if he hesitated, he was no better than this rich brat who dared to call himself a captain.

Jeff stood to his feet again, more slowly and deliberately than the first time. The beer, still ignored, was nonetheless undisturbed as he rose. His eyes tracked Connor all the way, blazing and intense. It was only by virtue of Connor slumping over the chair that they could meet eye to eye in the first place, but Jeff set that detail aside.

"You think you're so smart?" he asked, cracking his knuckles. He didn't figure that Connor would be intimidated by this. The first time he'd tried standing up against the 6 foot something quarterback, all he managed to do was make Connor laugh, just like he was doing now. No surprise, the kid was a head up on him and just about as strong. As far as he was probably concerned, Jeff wasn't even in the same league. And so, bereft of any real physical threat, the knuckle popping was just there to show him, to communicate that no matter what he sent at him, he would take it and respond in kind.

Jeff Greene was no coward, and he didn't back off for anyone.

"Okay then, I'll take a Dare."

No pathetic Truths for him. No matter what he did, he put everything out there, regardless of the cost.

When Connor named Misty the fairest one of all, or at least all in this room, she smiled and brought her hands to her chest in something half between a real and an ironic expression of being touched. Like, okay, it wasn't a particularly amazing compliment given that most of their circle were guys and as far as Misty knew Connor didn't have a gay bone in his body and Zen was looking less and less like competition with each moment and everyone over on the other side of the room wasn't that interesting, but still. The captain of the football team had deemed her the most attractive, and the hefty asterisk attached could just be quietly kicked under the couch.

Of course, since Misty wasn't stupid, she also did take a quick and surreptitious glance around the room once attention faded back away from her, just to make sure Madison Springer wasn't going to pop out of a cupboard and murder both her and Connor. Misty didn't have any issues with Madison, and some of what she'd heard about the girl made her think they might actually get along pretty well on certain topics most of the class shied away from, but Madison's temper was legendary and anything that looked like Misty getting too close to her boyfriend would probably be pushing every button the girl had. Definitely best to avoid that.

Safety established, she let her focus return to whatever was going on between Connor and Jeff. There seemed to be some tension there, more than she would've expected from teammates, but then again maybe Jeff was just a tense sort of guy. Misty doubted Connor was going to really blast him, but hey, he might surprise. What was more important, though, was what would come next.

With Jeff's selection, everyone in the circle had been in the hot seat except Misty. That meant, unless Jeff went way off-script or misunderstood the setup, he would be presenting her a challenge just as soon as he finished up with his own. He was also not exactly her biggest fan at the moment after what she'd pulled with the phone, but so what? Misty wasn't scared of him. If anything, the risk was exciting. He was a wild card, someone who didn't fall into any of the neat categories of the others, and she watched him with great interest, mulling all the while how she'd respond when his turn to ask came.

Connor blinked in surprise, and couldn't help himself. He laughed out loud at Jeff's challenge. Holy shit - what had gone and crawled up his ass? For whatever reason, Jeff Greene had decided that he was going to take this entire game personally. That was interesting. Connor didn't know if there was any particular reason that his teammate seemed so hostile towards him, but he did a very quick check of his mental rolodex to see if he could figure it out. Nothing seemed to pop up, so he simply chalked it up to Jeff being a grade-A sourpuss.

"Easy now, buddy. It's just a game, y'all know that."

Letting his fingers tap against his can of beer for a moment, Connor looked around the circle. Unsurprisingly Jeff had chosen dare, which was what he'd been counting on. The big question now was what to make him do? As his eyes scanned the room, he reflected for another second on Jeff's harsh demeanour. The temptation to make Jeff do something really embarrassing was high, but Connor didn't want to stoop to that level. For whatever was bubbling beneath the surface between the two, he didn't want to look as though the aggressive posturing coming from the other side of the room was bothering him at all. So what could he do?

Taking a sip from his beer, his eyes continued to scan, until they widened, and he knew instantly what he had to do. It was actually perfect. It was innocuous enough to make everyone else think that Jeff was getting off easy; Connor knew enough to know that Jeff wouldn't see it that way.

"All right, Jeff. Ain't nothin' big. I dare you," he looked Jeff straight in the eyes with a smirk, and then his eyes settled on the still full, unopened beer can on the floor beside him, "to drink - nah, to chug that entire beer, right here, right now."

As a character in a television show that Connor had enjoyed immensely once said: when you came at the king, you'd best not miss.

Man, Abel did not know what the fuck was going on other than people giving out weak questions and dares. Like Zen's question, and Connor's reply. Everyone knew the most beautiful person in the room was Stepney anyway (no offense, Misty); he totally got snubbed.

And then Connor's dare. Just drink a beer? Weaksauce. Lamerelish. Poor... uh, wait, what he was talking about again?

Oh, right. Even someone as intense as Jeff deserved a better dare. Come on!

"Man, that's all you got? Dat-nnnngh hrrflh."

Abel's words were suppressed by Stepney as he put Abel in a chummy chokehold that felt suspiciously a little unchummy.

Ok, fine. Fine. Abel relented.

"DEAL ME IN, FUCKERS!"

((Wyatt Carter continued from the loser's corner))

Shot of Jager in one hand, tall can of beer in the other. Wyatt bellowed the announcement of his presence and shot the jager down, licking his lips and sighing outward before putting it down on the nearest flat surface he could find. "What's going on over here anyway? Is this Never Have I Ever or Truth or Dare? And why ain't anybody naked?"

Well, Jeff had expected something devious from Connor, and boy did he deliver. He was surprised that Connor remembered that conversation though. It was right about when he tried out for the team, when he believed he actually had a shot at the QB position. He'd spent his whole life avoiding anything that would get in the way of his career: drinking, smoking, anything like that. And, naive idiot that he was, he'd let everyone else know. It didn't seem big at the time. All he thought was that he'd inspire people to take up his example, to see that the dream was worth the sacrifice.

And here Connor was, ready to break another piece of that dream down, to chip something else away. It wasn't enough that he'd stolen the position from him, apparently. He saw it in that smile. To everyone else, that beer was just some trivial thing. Connor had tossed one back like it was hardly even worth mentioning. But for Jeff, if he drank it, he'd be admitting that he'd lost, that he was a defensive lineman and that was all he was ever going to be, that everything he'd worked for and given up was just a waste of time.

He reached down for the beer, a stone sliding down into his stomach. He had never been worried about being alone before, but surrounded by all these jeering faces, with that smug prick leering over him, he realized just how alone he truly was. His face was an expressionless mask, devoid of any of the steely confidence he'd felt just a moment ago. If he'd had to wear a tutu and dance around, he'd have worn the tutu, no problem. But this...

He sighed, turning the thing over. Maybe Connor was right, maybe he was meant for nothing. He began to crack the tab...

And right about then, Wyatt Carter burst into the scene, startling Jeff out of his reverie as he immediately dominated the scene. Jeff honestly liked Wyatt more than most people on the team because he didn't act like some high-and-mighty saint. The man was a Grade A jerk and he had no shame about it, no need to cloak his actions in any socially-acceptable light. Jeff could respect that. If Wyatt wanted to demand naked people, he would just go ahead and demand them, because nothing in the world could bring him down.

And why couldn't Jeff be the same? He was fussing over a friggin' beer, and Wyatt would have just slammed it back in two seconds. How had this even been a problem?

"Truth or Dare, Wyatt," he answered, beer fizzing in his left hand. He popped it the rest of the way. "This guy here," he pointed at Connor, "thinks that I can't drink a beer, just because I've never done it before."

His hand was shaking. Just because he'd decided he could, was he actually able to do it? What if it tasted like piss? He took a careful sip, and it seemed okay. It was expensive piss, at any rate.

Well, whatever. Room wasn't getting any younger. Steeling himself, he tipped it back and just started ramming it down. The stuff wanted to come back up the can, but he forced it to stay. His eyes opening wide, he took one last giant gulp and threw the can to the ground, glad to be breathing air again.

"Heh..." he gasped with a small burp, "takes a little getting used to..."

A smile graced his face and he stomped the can flat. He'd broken his vows once. So what? He'd just renew them again. He'd applied to the same teams that Connor had, and he wasn't going to give up now. He'd let himself get into a rut, thinking about everything that he didn't have. The game, however, was still young.

Still leaning over the couch, Connor smirked as a few things happened at the same time, all of which brought him a degree of amusement. First, Jeff finally seemed to be knocked off whatever high horse he'd been standing on as he looked over the beer in his hand with a degree of uncertainty. Connor absolutely recalled Jeff's boasts about clean living and intense training back when he'd assumed he'd come on to the team and walk right into the quarterback position. He'd been mistaken, but Connor hadn't been one to hold that against him. He was a good lineman and confidence was a positive personality trait, but on occasion he slid over to the side of pompousness.

So kicking the chair out from under him was sometimes a necessary evil.

The second thing that happened as Jeff was gathering his confidence was the appearance of a newcomer, who loudly made their way into the room as if on cue. At this, Connor smiled even more - Wyatt was always one for an entrance, and if nothing else the appearance of another teammate would shut Jeff's aggression down tenfold. There were people on the football team who were not to be messed with - Connor knew himself to be one of them; Wyatt was likewise in that category as well. If you fucked with one of them, you fucked with all of them. He knew that Jeff wouldn't risk incurring the wrath of his teammates, though he was a little curious why the senior seemed to have such an issue with him.

No matter - it was a question for another day. Maybe he'd ask Wyatt later if he knew. Speaking of Wyatt...

"About damn time y'all got here. You really need to pretty yourself up that much? Best be catchin' up, Wyatt." He winked at his pal, and took a drink of his own beer.

Watching as Jeff actually went through with it, taking more than a few sips to drink the beer, but still finishing it nonetheless, Connor nodded his head in approval, watching as Jeff crushed the beer can under his foot. So it seemed that Moustache Jeff was a human being after all; this night was just full of surprises.

"Atta boy, Jeff. C'mon, that wasn't so bad, was it? Guess I letchya off easy," he smirked, and tipped his own can towards his teammate with respect. "More where that came from, if you want. You're up."

The offer was genuine, but Connor knew he wouldn't dare take him up on it. One beer was making a point, more than that could be a slippery slope, and Jeff wasn't the kind of man who didn't watch where he was walking.

“Darn right you took it easy.”

Jeff didn’t know whether he was on an adrenaline high or something, but Connor’s praise didn’t sound entirely insincere. Didn’t change his opinion much, but as long as Connor was on this kick, he was a-okay with it.

Waving off Connor’s offer of another beer, he simply pocketed the can he’d crushed so he could recycle it later. The guy had gotten him to violate his beliefs, sure, but he sure as heck hadn’t made a convert of him. Besides, he was starting to get that bitter aftertaste, and that was enough to ward him off by itself.

Whatever the case, Connor was correct. It was time to choose. Not really a choice, honestly. He knew from experience that you didn’t get on Wyatt’s bad side. Besides, he and Misty had unfinished business.

“Truth or Dare, Misty,” he said casually, much more so than when he’d started this evening. He crossed his arms and gave her a smile. Whatever she chose, this would be good.

The moment of truth arrived, albeit not quite as quickly as Misty had anticipated. Connor's dare to Jeff was an absolute softball, but that was how it went sometimes and there seemed to be some sort of unspoken tension between the teammates. Well, that was really their business. Misty hadn't been expecting Connor to roll in ready to take scalps.

Of course, Connor and Jeff were suddenly not the only members of the football team present. Wyatt rolled in with characteristic clamor, and Misty's smile widened a bit. She had a kind of different impression of Wyatt than she thought a lot of her classmates did—on both sides of the aisle, actually. She thought the boy was more or less right about a lot of what he said, and she appreciated his ability to wind up mutual enemies. He was usually good for a laugh. On the other hand, though, he was severely lacking in subtly and discretion and seemed incapable of high-level rhetorical maneuvering, leaving him to strawman himself against the handful of people on the wrong side of issues who actually both paid attention and were willing to try to argue with a cinderblock prone to tossing people in dumpsters. Come to think of it, he was sort of like a parrot trained to spew profanities: hilarious in most circumstances and great for getting a rise out of your uptight grandmother, but you wouldn't send it to a political debate unless the district was really, really safe.

And that wasn't touching little quirks of his treatment of women. Misty just did not get Faith's taste sometimes. Then again, maybe it was a physical thing; Misty preferred her men more lean muscle than beefcake.

She shifted in the chair a little, fidgeting a bit with the loose ends of her dress, scanning the room while Jeff chugged his beer at a snail's pace (no judgement; Misty couldn't force down beer that quickly either). The card game or whatever it was off in the corner seemed to be progressing alright, if boringly. The faint echoes of bad electronica and over-cranked bass bubbled through the floor from the impromptu dance hall below. There were definitely some glances being cast towards their circle from bystanders, too, but they lacked the courage to step up and join.

And then, speaking of courage, it was Misty's turn. She'd thought for a moment that Jeff might take a swerve and pick Wyatt, but was not sorry to not land in those particular crosshairs right away. That was one she'd have to handle very carefully. Jeff was too, of course; he seemed to have relaxed some (and good on Connor if that was the plan), but still he had a fairly recent axe to grind.

But Misty had expected this, had thought it through and weighed the pros and cons. The short of it was, if you played Truth or Dare like a weenie, nobody would respect you. You'd suddenly find that everyone was only giving you the chance to ask Truths, and so help you if you tapped out on a challenge without a good reason everyone would express their displeasure by ducking your challenges for the rest of the game. That, more than any actual punitive rules in place, was the game's enforcement mechanism: stigma and social shaming. Misty was an old hand at that game. To get away with opting out, the ask had to be obviously bullshit to most everyone else present, at which point it was on the shoulders of the asker and you could take your sip with a smile while the circle let you off the hook.

Jeff might go that route, might pick something way over the top, but Misty actually doubted it. He'd seemed pretty mad, but the mood in the circle at least had been against him. And Misty had dragged him into someone else's challenge, had poked the bear. She had to keep track and manage her own standing here, and that meant not being a coward.

She looked Jeff straight in the eyes, quirked up her lips a little more, and said, "Dare."

Well, crap. Jeff had been expecting Misty to wimp out and pick Truth. That would have made more sense. Say something embarrassing and get out of there as quickly as possible. He hadn’t planned on actually making her do something.

Still, just in case, he had thought of an idea. It was really tame, but what could he say? He was in an unprecedented good mood.

“Dare, eh? Okay then. Take a beer,” he gestured over to Connor, “and pour it out on your head.”

Yeah, he could have thought about it a lot more, but he was already planning to put spiders in her locker in a couple of days. No point in wasting his material up front.

Misty chuckled, just a little. Okay, that wasn't what she'd been expecting at all. That was a good one. Jeff got points for that. It was inconvenient and embarrassing enough to be absolutely undesirable, but mild and inoffensive enough that she'd look like a wimp if she flaked. The gauntlet was thrown. Tapping out wasn't an option. That left her with two ways to play this.

The first, of course, was to sigh and moan and grumble her way through the process and do as little as she could possibly get away with. Probably nobody would blame her for that, but it would be letting Jeff win, letting him have the last laugh, and Misty's newfound respect for the guy wasn't strong enough to give it to him that easily.

So that left option number two: own it.

"Alright," she said, "sounds good. Let's do this. Connor, can you pick me whatever has the most, uh, minerals or antioxidants or whatever? So it's good for my hair? I'll go in the bathroom or out back or something so I don't spill everywhere."

Misty didn't really actually give that much of a shit whether Forrest's chair got soaked through or not but she didn't really fancy someone who did taking note of her actions and having Claudeson come bounce her. The guy hadn't seemed that hyped to be security, but who knew when the boredom would set in enough to encourage a more zealous enforcement of party etiquette?

She stood up, smoothed down her dress—it was lucky this was washable, she was kind of fond of it—and took a couple steps towards the center of the circle, though she wasn't yet quite sure where she was heading.

"And can someone find me a towel for after?"

Eyes wide with surprise that Misty was just going to blast through this full speed, Connor nodded in acceptance. Go figure; this was actually going to go down. At her query, Connor glanced into his cooler bag. Antioxidants? Minerals? Misty had to be losin' it, because this was beer. It wasn't exactly the stuff that anyone preferred to dump all over themselves. All the same, he reached into the bag and removed the only beer he'd brought that was more of a 'pawn this off on someone' selection: a Bud Light Lime. Shampoos had weird citrus additives all the time, so this was close enough.

Connor held up the beer, though refrained from tossing it. This would make a mess, after all. "Here you go."

This was a little silly, but it seemed a bit less pointed than some of the other dares had been. It also meant that Misty would likely be heading for Wyatt once her beer shower was done, and that was a sight that he couldn't wait to see.