The Ticet

"Where are the car keys?" Linda muttered.

Desperate to find them, she simply emptied the contents of her large handbag onto Barbara's coffee table.

The keys appeared immediately.

Her friend began helping Linda gather the scattered items. Suddenly, she picked up a crumpled card, glanced over it, and read aloud:

*"Hand this ticket to Linda Stevens, and she will immediately and silently perform one act of oral sex, kneeling, at any time and in any place, without asking any questions."*

Linda flushed.

"It's... it's a birthday gift for Archie," she explained, embarrassed.

Barbara smirked.

"You guys play some interesting games."

Linda felt a wave of relief. Barbara could have reacted differently -- shocked, judgmental... But no, her tone carried more curiosity than disapproval.

"Is this ticket used?" her friend suddenly asked.

"Yes..." Linda nodded. "I forgot to tear it up. I don't even know why I kept it."

Without a word, Barbara handed the card back.

A wild thought flashed through Linda's mind.

*"No... Barbara can't mean that. That's impossible."*

Her heart started beating faster.

*"The tickets were for Archie! This one was already used! It doesn't count!"*

But Barbara remained silent. She just sat there, watching her intently, waiting.

Linda felt the tension rise.

*"Why am I even having these thoughts?"*

She couldn't bring herself to lift her eyes. But inside, a strange, unsettling excitement was growing.

Finally, forcing herself, Linda looked at her friend. She needed to read her expression.

Barbara winked.

"I gave you the ticket," she said quietly.

Linda blinked, as if she hadn't heard correctly.

"What?"

"I gave you the ticket," Barbara repeated, watching her just as intently.

The silence between them became almost tangible.

Linda felt her palms grow sweaty. She nervously gripped the card, as if she wanted to tear it apart, but didn't.

"Barbara, is this a joke?" Her voice came out weaker than she intended.

Her friend tilted her head slightly, studying Linda with a smile that carried something... new.

"What if it's not?"

Something inside Linda shifted.

This can't be real. This is Barbara. Her friend. She had known her for years. And never -- never! -- had there been even a hint of anything like this.

Or had there?

She recalled the way Barbara sometimes looked at her. The way they laughed at jokes only they understood. The way Barbara's touch lingered just a second too long...

No. That was impossible.

Linda shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

"But... this ticket... it's not meant for this..."

"You said yourself you don't know why you kept it," Barbara interrupted.

Linda swallowed hard.

Barbara was still silent, but now there was a clear sense of anticipation in her gaze.

The room seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them.

Her head was spinning. Was this a game? A test? Or... an invitation?

Her own thoughts terrified her.

"Barbara..." she whispered, but her friend just kept watching.

Linda could feel her breath hitching.

Then Barbara leaned in slightly closer and, still smiling, murmured softly:

"If you want, I can give you a one-week extension."

Linda swallowed.

"An extension?" she repeated, her voice betraying her nerves.

Barbara nodded, holding her gaze.

"A week to think it over. Then the ticket expires," she said, placing her hand over the card in Linda's palm. "Or... you could use it right now."

Her fingers were warm.

Linda felt a shiver run down her spine. She was sure she could hear her own heartbeat.

"This... this is just a joke, right?" She tried to smile, but it came out uncertain.

Barbara gave a small shrug.

"If you say so."

"And if I... don't use it... you'll just forget about it?"

Barbara leaned back against the couch, crossing her legs.

"Of course."

She said it too easily. As if she already knew Linda had made her choice.

Linda glanced down at the ticket.

Her fingers tightened around it.

A week.

Right now, it felt like a lifeline.

But for some reason, she couldn't make herself just say "no."

---

On the sixth day, Linda could no longer escape the decision she had been circling all week.

Her heart pounded as she picked up her phone. She stared at Barbara's name on the screen, her thumb hovering over the call button. A deep breath. Then another. And finally -- she pressed it.

The dial tone rang once. Twice. Each second stretched unbearably.

Then Barbara answered.

"Linda," she said smoothly. "I was wondering if you'd finally make up your mind."

Linda's throat was dry. She hesitated, gripping the phone tighter.

"I... I think it's time I paid my debt," she said, barely recognizing her own voice.

A pause. Then, a slow, knowing chuckle.

"I hoped you'd say that," Barbara murmured. "Come over."

The line went dead before Linda could respond.

She sat there, phone still in her hand, her pulse racing. The walls of her house felt too small, the silence around her deafening.

This was it.

No more second-guessing. No more analyzing every glance, every touch, every word.

She stood up, grabbed her coat, and stepped into the night.