Free Dare to Be Different by Nicole O'Dell Page B

right over wrong, doing the right thing over doing the dare. But if you can’t see that, I guess we aren’t really the friends I thought we were anyway. How about you, Sam and Macy?” Lindsay asked, wanting to find outexactly where she stood. “Are you in agreement with this?”
    At the same moment, both Sam and Macy silently looked away, telling Lindsay just how they felt about it.
    “Well, I’m going to call my mom to come and get me, and then you three can continue your fun.” Lindsay went to the phone and called home, asking her mom to come and pick her up. She didn’t tell her much of the story over the phone, but it was clear from Lindsay’s voice that this was very different than a five-year-old calling home because she missed her mommy.
    “I’ll be right there, Linds.”
    Lindsay gathered up her belongings: her swimsuit that was still drying over the shower curtain in the basement bathroom, the toothbrush she had left on the vanity, the snacks she had brought to share … and she also grabbed a few items that she had left there during past visits. She placed all the items into her backpack and silently walked to the front porch, where she sat on the stoop crying softly while she waited for her mom to arrive.

    At just after one in the morning, Mom pulledinto the driveway, and Lindsay rose from the stoop, collected her things, and, with her head down, made the lonely walk to the car. Mercifully her mom didn’t say anything on the short drive home because Lindsay was withdrawn, quiet, and not quite ready to talk about what had happened.
    When they arrived home, Mom helped Lindsay get her things out of the car and set them on the tile floor in the foyer just inside the front door. Still without saying a word, Mom went into the kitchen and put some water into the teakettle to heat for hot chocolate.
    Lindsay washed up in the bathroom and then walked back down the hallway to join her mom. She was hesitant, because she didn’t know quite what to say or how much to tell her mom. When she entered the kitchen and Mom looked up at her from the kitchen table, Lindsay started to cry.
    “Oh, sweetie.” Mom was instantly on her feet and held her daughter as she cried big, sad tears. “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “Mom, they—they—they picked a game over me. They didn’t have any respect for what I wanted. They don’t even know m–m–me, really.” Lindsay was crying and not making much sense.
    “Slow down, honey. Let’s take this one step at a time. Tell me what happened—from the beginning.”
    “Well, we were playing a game. It started back a few weeks ago when we first started our Friday night sleepovers. The game was a sort of deal that we made. It’s called Truth or Dare.” Lindsay noticed the look of recognition on her mom’s face. “You’ve heard of it?”
    “Linds, everyone has played Truth or Dare. It’s not anything new.”
    “Well, we played seriously. It was a matter of honor to take your turn and either answer the question truthfully or perform your dare with no complaints.” Lindsay paused to take a deep breath and blow her nose. “Well, it was my turn, and I picked Dare because they were all mad that I was only choosing Truth.” Lindsay started to rush her story, wanting to get it all out as quickly as possible. “My dare was horrible, and I couldn’t do it, and they said that if I didn’t do it, I was out of the group. But I didn’t do it, and so they told me I had to leave, so I called you.”
    “Okay, slow down. Take a deep breath. What was the dare?”
    “I can’t tell you yet, Mom.”
    “Why not? Oh, you mean they still might be doing whatever it is they dared you to do?”
    Lindsay nodded, her eyes downcast.
    “Lindsay,” Mrs. Martin said sternly, “if your friends are in any danger or if they are doing something to endanger someone else, you need to tell me.”
    “They aren’t my friends, and I don’t think they’re in danger. I’ll tell you what