truth or dare - game on series #1

Stella

I walk into the dorm room, my heart still light from everything that happened earlier. I can't help it—the smile that's been plastered on my face since I left Cameron's car won't fade. It's like a secret I don't want to share with anyone but also feel like I need to talk about.

As I enter the room, Bree is sitting on her bed, propped up with pillows, her phone in hand, clearly waiting for me. The moment she sees me, her eyes narrow playfully.

"Do you know what time it is, young lady?" she teases, her voice dripping with exaggerated concern. "I was worried sick!"

I laugh a little, a genuine laugh, the kind I haven't had in a while. Bree always knows how to make me feel like things aren't as serious as they sometimes seem. But then, her tone shifts to something more curious.

"So, what happened? Why are you home so late?"

I sit down on my bed with a sigh, my fingers twisting the edges of my blanket as I try to find the right words.

"Well," I start, "I went to Cameron's house to work on the project. We have to write an essay about the book Me Before you. Our professor is a hopeless romantic, I guess. And then we kind of... went out. We went to McDonald's, and then we went to a playground. He wanted me to live a little, like the main character from the book."

Bree raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A playground?" she repeats with a knowing smile. "What else? You look... different. You're smiling."

I try to hide my smile, but it's impossible. The way she's looking at me, the way she's teasing, it makes me blush.

"Okay, fine," I admit, "I do have a smile on my face. But... I don't know. He's just not what I thought he was."

She narrows her eyes and looks at me like she's trying to decode some sort of secret message. "What do you mean?"

I hesitate for a moment before speaking. "I thought he was just some guy who only cared about basketball and girls, you know? But today... I don't know. He's different. He's nice. And... I don't know why, but I felt really good with him today."

Bree's eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans forward, teasing me again. "I knew it! I knew you liked him!"

I roll my eyes. "I don't know. Maybe I do. But do you really think someone like him would be interested in someone like me?"

The question hangs in the air, and for a moment, I feel vulnerable, exposed. Bree's gaze softens as she considers the question carefully before answering.

"Honestly, Stella, I think he'd be lucky to have someone like you. You're kind, you're smart, and you're so much more than your illness. If he can't see that, then he's not worth your time."

Her words are comforting, and I want to believe them. I really do. But then, a dark thought creeps into my mind, something I've tried to push away. I shake my head, my voice quiet but full of uncertainty.

"I can't be with him, Bree. I can't be with anyone."

Bree furrows her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

I sit up a little straighter, my hands clutching my knees as I try to explain. "He's the most popular guy at school. He could have anyone he wants. And I'm... I'm just a sick girl. That's all I am. If he knew, if anyone knew... they wouldn't want me."

I hear myself say it, but the words taste bitter on my tongue. The weight of what I've been carrying inside me for so long is suddenly too much. I don't want to be this girl. I don't want to be defined by something that's so out of my control. But it's there, lurking in the back of my mind, reminding me every day that I'm different. That I'm not normal. That I'm broken.

Bree is silent for a long moment, and when she speaks again, her voice is gentle, as if she's trying to find the right words to comfort me.

"Stella," she says softly, "epilepsy doesn't define you. It doesn't change who you are. It doesn't make you any less deserving of love, or friendship, or happiness. You're still you."

I want to believe her. I really do. But something inside me can't accept it.

"You don't understand," I say, my voice trembling slightly. "It's not that simple. If he knew what I deal with, how unpredictable everything is... he wouldn't want me. People can't love someone like me. I'm a liability."

Bree reaches out, placing a hand on mine, and her grip is firm, reassuring. "You're not a liability, Stella. You're amazing just as you are. And I know there's someone out there who will see that. Someone who will love you for you, not for some disease you can't control."

I want to cry. I want to scream at the unfairness of it all. Why can't I just be normal? Why does everything have to be so complicated? But instead, I swallow the lump in my throat, pushing the tears back, even though it hurts.

"I wish I could believe that," I say quietly, almost to myself. "I really do."

Bree doesn't respond immediately, and I can feel her looking at me, probably seeing right through the walls I've built up around myself. She knows I'm not convinced. She knows I'm still afraid.

"Maybe you will one day," she says gently. "But you don't have to worry about that right now. Just take things one step at a time. Don't let your fears hold you back from something that might make you happy."

I want to argue, to tell her that it's not that easy. But I don't. Instead, I lean back against the bed and let out a deep sigh, feeling more exhausted than I expected.

"Thanks, Bree," I whisper. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiles, her hand still resting on mine. "You don't have to do anything alone, Stella. I've got your back. Always."

I give her a small smile, but my mind is still elsewhere, on everything that happened today and everything I'm too afraid to say.

The truth is, I don't know what's going to happen with Cameron. I don't know if I'm strong enough to face what might come of this. But I know one thing for sure: I'm terrified of being hurt. Of being rejected because of something I can't control. And I don't know how to let that go.

But for now, I close my eyes, trying to hold on to the peace I felt tonight. Even if it's only for a little while, it's enough to make me believe that maybe, just maybe, I'm worth something more than just my illness.