1:46pm Saturday - Gavin
"Yo, Gavin. Wanna do something exciting? Or would you rather just chill and listen to the the background jazz some more?" David's voice suddenly burst into my thoughts. I could never understand jazz, but David always had it playing as background music. So I had been trying to understand its appeal.
I put the jazz from my mind and thought about if I even wanted to get up and move? I had been melting like a cat in a sunbeam for the last hour, did I even have it in me to leave this puddle of comfort?
Yeah.
David was a good sport and made games fun, he was always conscious of what everyone else was thinking and feeling. A real man's man in our social circle. It's why I felt so at peace lounging in his house.
I tried to nod and overcome my lack of a zeal. David, on the other hand, practically leapt off the couch and grabbed the dart board.
If he wanted to play darts he was after a real challenge. I could outplay almost everyone I knew. I'd even out-played someone at the uni pub who'd been hustling last month (and was still riding that high if I was being honest).
I slinked out of the arm chair and took the guest darts, a jade green set. They had a nice weight to them and felt good in my hands. As I rolled them back and forth David announced the normal long game rules. I like playing these rules, the slow pull ahead and inevitability of my wins under these rules made me feel unstoppable.
David pulled up next to me, a full head shorter than I was while slouching, their cat-like eyes narrowed in focus as they took their shot. It was a struggle to not smile down at my friend and instead hold a serious expression like I always did during a challenge like this.
Ohh, a hundred and twenty five. That's a solid start. Especially for David.
If I could squeeze a one eighty I'd be fifty five ahead and half way to victory already.
"Also, stakes. I forgot to mention what we're playing for." David announced before I took my mark. I watched him carefully, he normally liked just playing for the sake of a game. His normal soft and friendly features exactly as I expected them, the same excited smile he always got when thinking about something fun. If he wanted stakes, I assumed he wanted to rattle me for a handicap.
"Loser has to dress up like a girl for a day."
I don't think I heard David right, why would he propose something I wanted as a penalty…wait…he can't know I would want that...could he? Did I let something slip? Did I hear him right? Dress up…like a girl? Like with a dress or skirt or something cute?
David's a man's man. He must think that's a punishment.
Wait, he's taking Gender Studies this semester, does he think it's not a punishment?
What am I supposed to do? What does my face looks like? Am I breathing? How long has it been? I can't let him know I care about this. I just have to be calm and neutral about this.
"…sure. Any challenge, I can meet it." I had no confidence in myself anymore. Nerves were always my weakness. Once I lose my cool I'm like an uncoordinated puppet tangled in her own strings. How did I normally throw a dart?
A one.
…I'm dead.
This is how it happens again. Social death by bets. Was I cursed to have this happen to me every few years? Was this his plan this whole time? Make me lose my cool and then win or lose use this to strip me of my hard won social standing?
Maybe I can just will a seizure into killing me now, surely that would be less torture than this. Maybe I can make a comeback. Just hit the triple twenty like I normally do. I was only an inch away with the first dart. Things aren't that bad.
Another one.
Nope, this is how it ends. I will be a social pariah and live out my days friendless and alone like everyone else doing comp-sci.
If I can get the triple twenty this time I can buy time to go insane and kill myself before the next round.
Five.
That's it. I'm dead. My hands are shaking uncontrollably, even if I wanted to kill myself, I have no confidence I wouldn't miss.
I can feel David's pitiful gaze on me.
I sit back down in the armchair and close my eyes and try to not exist.
David says something, but all sensation feels like the buzzing of insect wingbeats to me now so I have to guess it's an apology.
I hear the front door open and close. If I open my eyes and see the rest of everyone we know standing there judging me, I am going to break my arms rather than let them say anything.
The jazz continues to taunt me with its ineffable key changes and five minutes solos.
The room is incredibly quiet. As if no one is standing over me and judging me. Which can't be right, cause I feel those stares.
I open my eyes.
It's just me.
Did David leave?
Am I that pitiable that even with stakes he thought up I needed to be given space to come to terms with it? With my fate?