Shortly before leaving home, I had changed my outfit for the third time. Now I had on jeans and a white blouse. I’d also added some delicate silver jewelry to round out my casual I-haven’t-really-tried look.
I almost bit through my lip at the thought that I would soon be ready to post photos of me dabbling in the spontaneous—or pretending to, anyway.
Stepping out of the lift, I hurried toward the small crowd gathered near the bar. A young man wearing a Dare Club T-shirt was talking to a group of people, all eager-looking adventurers. The mood was as ebullient as you’d expect it to be, coming from a bunch of losers like me.
“Hi, there, I’m Ted,” he greeted me. “I’m your Dare Club guide.”
I gave him a nervous smile. “Daisy.”
“We’re thrilled you decided to join us.”
Join is a strong word.
He looked down at the envelope I was holding out, his expression one of confusion. “You signed up online?”
“I just have this,” I said, tucking the envelope back in my handbag.
“What’s your last name?”
“Whitby.”
Ted glanced at his clipboard. “Yeah, I have you down.”
He turned to address the group. “Welcome to my Ted talk! I’m assuming everyone created a Last Will and Testament?”
Ted was a right comedian.
He laughed raucously. “Welcome to the Dare Club! Designed for people who want to challenge themselves and push past their personal boundaries. Previous members have gained the courage to apply for that promotion, or ask for that pay rise—and they’ve gotten it. There are so many benefits to joining us! We help you stretch yourself beyond what you believe you’re capable of achieving. Over the next three weeks, you’ll push yourselves to the limit. This is going to be the most fun you’ve ever experienced. Can I hear a hurrah?!”
“Hurrah,” I said weakly and then shot up my arm. “I have a question.”
“Sure, Daisy.”
“For tonight only, can I watch? If that’s all right? See if I like it?”
He looked amused. “Good one. No.”
We were each handed a badge. I scribbled my name on mine and stuck it to my chest. I was ignored by Ted as he continued to spout passionately about what the evening would entail. Us facing our fear of the unknown, apparently.
The first dare was imminent.
I tugged on Ted’s shirt. “Excuse me. Have you got a brochure about the dare? So we can prepare.”
I meant bail.
He gave me a strained smile. “We’ll meet up at a designated location, emailed to you a few hours before, and only then inform you of your dare for that day. It prevents members from backing out.”
My mouth went dry. “That doesn’t seem very…safe.”
He turned back to the crowd. “Are we ready for our first dare?”
There was cheering, accompanied by my inner moaning.
“I’m going with no,” I mumbled.
That earned me a look of disapproval from the group.
“Of course, you’re not ready, Daisy,” said Ted. “That’s the point!”
“It’s just that…”
“What do you need?”
“A few more details, perhaps. Like, has anyone died doing whatever it is we are about to be doing? That kind of thing.”
Ted’s long hard stare of disdain came with a side of impatience. Instead of answering, he addressed the crowd once more. “Follow me!”
He led us down a long hallway with all the charisma of a museum tour guide—not like someone who was leading us into danger. We trailed along behind him like lost sheep and followed him through a door.
No bloody way.
Along a glass wall was what looked like a glass chute outside the building. Considering we were hundreds of feet up, it was terrifyingly spectacular. No way was I going down that slide. Anyone stupid enough to try it out would see the sheer drop below them to the pavement as they skidded along. If that thing cracked, you’d fall through to a very squishable end. No one would recognize the parts of you that were left.
And I was wearing my new glasses. The most expensive ones I’d ever owned.
We handed over our handbags to Ted’s assistant, who brightly told us she’d return them when we joined her at the other end. I kept my phone and tucked it into my shirt pocket.
I watched in horror as members of my group got in a queue, ready to climb into the glass tube that jutted away from the building. The first volunteer, a young woman with the name Debbie written on her badge, made her way through the small space. She sat down on a blue mat that had been provided for this debacle, seemingly enjoying the anticipation.
She shot down and out of view at a million miles an hour.
Suddenly I couldn’t get my legs to move.
One by one, my fellow adventurers ducked into the glass tube and moved out onto the edge, plopping onto the mats and zooming out of view.
I was the last to go.
Ted turned to me. “You’re up, Daisy.”
“Where does that lead?” I pointed at it with the fear it deserved.
“Five floors down.”
“But…why?”
This was why my life had stalled out. Morgan had been able to lure away my one true love because she was the spontaneous type. The come-hang-with-me-and-we’ll-have-fun type.
This was something she’d do.
The proof was in my handbag. That envelope had been meant for her, someone who would never turn down a dare. Had I been less cautious and more open to taking bigger risks, maybe Nick wouldn’t have gotten bored with our relationship.
“Daisy, it’s perfectly safe,” whispered Ted. “You could sue us if the glass broke and you fell to your sudden death.”
“Funny.”
“You have nothing to lose and everything to gain,” he coaxed.
“What could I possibly gain?”
“Why are you here?”
To win him back.
In a daze, I leaned over to avoid bumping my head on the low ceiling and climbed into the glass square. The drop below was only slightly more distracting than the glass structure that disappeared around the corner of the building. What was I willing to do to win Nick back?
It was easy imagining how Morgan would react to an adventure like this—she’d glide majestically forward without hesitation, looking like a goddess with her golden locks flying—doing it all for her adoring fans who were ready to applaud her bravery. She’d film her glamorous risk-taking adventure and showcase it to the world. Her antics would be posted all over social media.
I sat on the mat and tried to get comfortable—as comfortable as you can be when seeing your life flash before your eyes. I lifted my iPhone and pressed the LIVE button on Instagram.
I spoke into the camera. “I’m currently thousands of feet in the air, ready to take on gravity.” I felt like a reporter providing moment by moment feedback of a dangerous mission. “I’m going down a death slide!”
“It’s called the fun slide, Daisy!” Ted interjected from behind me.
Ignoring that, I went to kick off and then froze—live on the air—my face reflecting terror. Instead of showcasing my bravery, I was caught mid-panic and unmovable.
The mat slipped forward with me on it and a scream tore from me as I shot down the chute with my ass sliding over the glass bottom at warp speed. Horrified, I slid left until my butt was now on the outer wall of the glass. My balance righted itself as I bounced awkwardly toward the other side of the chute, moving swiftly back and forth as I raced along like an Olympian bobsledder going for gold.