Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like either challenge she gives me?
Nathan mulled over his options -- realizing that he was probably in trouble either way -- before finally settling on what he figured was the safer choice. "Truth."
He could have sworn Enya's eyes sparkled with eagerness, as if she'd hoped that he'd choose that one. He swallowed back the knot in his throat, worry curling in his stomach almost as bad as the onset of an anxiety attack as she sat back in the cushion with a cocky air, crossing her arms. "What's your first name?"
The writer stared at her only for a moment (startled, perhaps), then promptly grabbed his shot glass. "Fuck that..."
"What? No fair!" Enya's jaw dropped, though she smiled at him while she rolled her eyes. "Really? On the first one? I think you should take two shots for that!"
"Okay." Nathan grimaced after he downed the first and grabbed the bottle to poor himself a second. Enya just shook her head.
"Unbelievable. It can't be that embarrassing..."
"Here's a hint," he said after he swallowed the second shot. "It's usually a woman's name; I was named for my grandmother. Tell me how that's not embarrassing."
"I know guys named Nancy and Shannon," she countered, sticking her nose up. "I also know a girl named Kyle. Do you really think I care?"
"No, but I do." He put the glass down and poured his third so it was ready for the next round. "Your turn now: truth or dare?"
"No, I'm not telling you. Stop. Asking."
Nathan finished his seventh shot, proud of himself for still keeping most of his wits about him, if not losing some of his dignity. Over the course of however so many rounds (he'd stopped counting somewhere along his fourth drink, which was round ten), he'd eaten damp coffee grinds, named all fifty states in alphabetical order in less than thirty seconds, and admitted to being a cat person. He'd learned that the only cat Enya liked was Alton's, that she had a violent loathing of the singer who shared her name (she'd taken one of her three shots when she was dared to sing and sign Orinoco Flow), and she could do a spot on impression of a leaking sink. As Nathan set down his shot glass, he snorted, the paper towel garland Enya had made for him for his last dare sliding down his forehead. "Your tactic to get me drunk enough to tell you isn't working."
"Curses!" Enya rubbed her hands together in her best dastardly villain pose. "My evil plan has been exposed!" She laughed at herself, stretching out over the armchair she'd moved to, hanging her legs over the side. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."
"You've asked me five, wait..." Nathan counted out on his fingers. "Six times. Yeah, six times. Not telling. Nope."
This was apparently hysterical, because Enya laughed again. "Bastard."
"Yep. That's me."
She continued giggling, swinging her legs around to sit in the chair correctly. "Cheater cheater cheater!"
Now Nathan laughed, but not at her accusation, covering his mouth in a half-baked attempt to stop himself. "Nice underwear..."
Enya blew a raspberry at him before snapping her knees together. "Pervert. Hey, what time is it anyway?"
Nathan searched for his phone, staring directly at it for several seconds before he recognized it, grabbed it, and flipped it open. "Almost two..."
"Shit!" The time had an amazing sobering effect. Enya jumped from her seat, tottering slightly as she looked around for her handbag. "I have to work at eight."
"Shit." Nathan hadn't thought of that; it was Friday. He worked early too. Standing, he began cleaning up the drinks, briefly considering drinking the two shots left untouched before he just carried them to the kitchen and poured them into the sink. Enya found her purse and fished for her keys.
"I should go," she said when she found them, but she paused, staring at nothing as her brain apparently reconsidered what she said. She shook her head and repeated, "I should go," then started for the door.
Thankfully, the alcohol hadn't addled his brain so much that Nathan didn't realize what she was doing. Stepping out of the kitchen, he placed himself between Enya and the exit before he himself fully registered his actions. "Wait." He obeyed his own command, but then recovered. "How many shots did you have?"
Enya snorted at him. "Only three. I'm fine, Nathan. Let me go."
Drinks plus car is bad, especially if she's got far to go. But I don't know if she does. It was only three, right? But it wouldn't be safe for Marni... Enya, wait... she shouldn't be driving... right?
Maybe I'm over-thinking. She seems a lot more lucid than me, so maybe I'm being paranoid or something... and I can't force her to stay. What if she stayed? That'd be bad too...
What should I do?