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The campfire cast a wicked glow on Rylie’s grin as she said, “Let’s play never have I ever.”
Wallis spit out his drink. “Excuse me?”
“We’re all legal now! And neither Nim nor I have ever played a drinking game!” Rylie crossed her arms. “Why, you afraid of losing?”
Wallis gasped, but before he could reply, Harold intervened. He seemed a little unsure about whether or not he was comfortable with the idea. “Rylie, we don’t have alcohol here.”
Rylie stared at Wallis. Cold sweat rolled down the star’s’ back. “That’s not going to be an issue,” she said sweetly. Harold wisely decided not to question it.
“Okay, that may not be an issue, but unless we all sneak out in the middle of the night Mom won’t let us,” Wallis objected.
“Let you do what?”
They all jumped. For some reason Hobo stood a few steps behind the angelic Petunia, looking uncomfortable.
Wallis took the bait. “Rylie wanted to play a drinking game,” he said, and she hissed snitch at him.
Unexpectedly, Petunia’s clasped her hands together. “That’s a wonderful idea!” She glanced at Hobo. “Which game? Truth or dare?”
Harold’s surprised blinking thankfully didn’t stop him from answering his mother. “Never have I ever, I think?”
Petunia nodded approvingly. “Excellent. Let’s all play tonight!” On the word all she pointedly glared at Hobo, who took a small step back.
Rylie couldn’t help but ask why she was alright with her children drinking. “As long as we make sure no one drinks irresponsibly, it’ll be in good fun,” she said, but the underlying spite towards an unknown person was absolutely terrifying.
A few hours later, once the sun had set, the group sat in a circle, except for Cirrus, who floated a few feet off the floor next to Harold, and Nim, who was filling the last of the shots. Wallis had mysteriously found glasses and bottles full of cider (he offered no explanation, but sighed heavily in Rylie’s general direction). Since even Cirrus had been convinced to play, Evets was the only one who flat out refused. The younger members of the group eyed Petunia nervously, but she insisted they should treat her as a normal friend having “drinking fun”.
“Alright,” Rylie piped up, “here are the rules. Wallis brought an unholy amount of glasses, so we’ll each have six shots.” She held up a glass. “If you spill your glass, you either have to refill or lose. When it’s your turn, you say ‘never have I ever’, and well, something you’ve never done, and everyone who has done that thing drinks. You’re out if you can’t drink or when you have no shot left to drink. Any questions?”
“Couldn’t we simply lie?” Cirrus pointed out.
Rylie gasped, shocked. “It’s true we can’t know for sure, but then you’d be a cheating cheater and a lying liar who lies. Are you?”
Cirrus’ cloud hair sparked, but Nim grabbed his sleeve and yanked. “Save it for the game! It’s an excellent occasion to get to know Gloomversian culture!” Don’t ruin this for me.
Cirrus grumbled, but settled down, and once Nim sat down the game started. Rylie cleared her throat, grinned, and staring pointedly at Wallis, she said “Never have I ever gone on a date with someone wearing purple.”
Wallis made an offended, embarrassed noise at the girl next to him, but complied and downed his first shot with a defiant glare. Petunia chuckled in her fist, smoothing her purple dress with her other hand. Since there was a round of giggles around, no one noticed Hobo sipping his own drink.
Wallis set the glass back down. “Fine! Never have I ever neglected to insist on making my name known.”
It was Rylie’s turn to gasp. This time, Harold noticed Hobo drinking quietly, and he averted his eyes. He’d known him longest, but he still only called him Hobo, maybe he should ask for a name sometime? But it was so awkward by now…
Seaweed snorted. “Alright, alright. Don’t bully each other. Let’s bully Harold,” she declared, and cleared her throat. “Never have I ever avoided my family for ages.”
Harold picked up his drink and stared at the depth of his glass for a few seconds. Petunia let that one pass with a pointed glance at Seaweed, who seemed to have forgotten the mother was playing although they sat next to each other. Petunia reached out below Cirrus to pat Harold’s arm.
“This is why you’re my favorite friend,” Wallis joked. Purple rolled his eyes and Rylie elbowed him. Hobo drank his third glass with guilt in his eyes.
Next up was Petunia. “Let’s see. Never has my hair color ever been changed,” she said, and about half the assembly groaned.
Purple, Rylie, Wallis, and Harold all looked at each other. “Mine is Wallis’ fault,” she declared, “shouldn’t he drink two shots?”
“Hell no! That’s cheating! Purple, tell her it’s cheating!”
“But Wallis,” he said with sly shudder in his tone, “it’s hilarious.”
Thankfully for Wallis, Petunia intervened. “Now, now. That’s not in the rules. One drink each.”
Harold noticed Hobo’s fourth shot was also empty. “Hobo, you’ve changed your hair color before?” He’d been very quiet; he couldn’t help but be concerned. He was highkey losing too.
Hobo jumped. “Ah, um, yes.”
“What color was it?” Harold asked, unsure about what else to ask.
All eyes focused on Hobo, who laughed uncomfortably. His cheeks were starting to flush. “Is, that. Well. Black and red, I suppose?”
Rylie whistled approvingly, and sent a mourning thought to her old black hair.
Cirrus‘ hair made an impatient, worrying cloud rumble that got everyone’s attention. “Cease your chattering now. It is my turn.”
This jolted Nim out of her fascinated contemplation, and she gulped in fear. What was this human headache going to say?
“Never have I ever had children,” he said, and silence descended upon everyone as they contemplated the surprisingly harmless statement.
Petunia smiled. “Well, it looked like I—“
—but Harold yelped so loudly that they all turned to him instead, alarmed.
He was dramatically pointing towards Hobo’s empty fifth shot. “Hobo, you’re a father ?”
The redhead looked uncomfortable and more than a little tipsy. In fact, he seemed to be swaying a bit. He hummed affirmatively, avoiding all eye contact.
“And you…” he counted Hobo’s shots. “You’re also avoiding your family? Is this why you were on the streets? Hobo what the hell?”
The silence was heavy. Hobo seemed to shrink into himself. After a long silence, he spoke.
“They’re adults now,” he said, speech slurred slightly, “and I have a good reason, I swear.” and he dropped his forehead on his knees with a miserable whine. “I’m sorry.”
Nim, who sat next to him, held out her hand; but she was lost as to what to do. She glanced at Purple. He shook his head, and she withdrew it.
Next up was Harold. Hobo was one shot away from losing both the game and possibly consciousness. He had to pick something totally harmless. Something no one would’ve done.
“Never have I ever... killed someone?”
Hobo sighed very loudly, and his hand wobbled out for his last shot.