This is the second series from a trio of nonfiction stories that begins with "Angelina" and concludes with "Stacey."
~ ~ ~
There we were, staring daggers at each other. They were friendly daggers, but daggers nonetheless.
Strange lot, the four of us. We were childhood friends, having grown up together. As adults we lived apart, separated by four hundred miles of California coastline. Angie and I lived in San Francisco, while Julie and Matt made their home in Los Angeles.
For as long as any of us could remember, Angie and Julie were hyper-competitive with each other. Even though they were as close and loving as two sisters could be, they absolutely hated losing to one another.
Maybe part of it was the fact that they were total opposites.
Despite their Sicilian ancestry Julie was fair of skin, with long, curly blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes; combined with her trim, athletic body and beautiful B-cup breasts, she looked like the prototypical California Golden Girl. She dressed like one too, her usual attire consisting of casual jeans or shorts, tennis shoes or flip flops, and a t-shirt.
Angie on the other hand was Classic Italian Bombshell, with her darker olive complexion, luminous raven hair, and full D-cup breasts. She had a much curvier figure, and whether we were at home or out in public she almost always wore stylish, sexy clothes.
Their personalities couldn't have been much more opposite either.
Julie was lighthearted and fun-loving, yet naturally cautious. When it came to sex, she was always a bit shy and reserved, preferring lights-off cuddling to wild, impulsive romps. Very much a people person, she lived to laugh and had lots of friends.
Again belying their sibling status, Angie was serious and intense. Considerably smarter and quite a bit more educated than her older sister of two years, she was much quieter in public. She was also a lot more aggressive, particularly in terms of competing. She loved to debate, and always had to win. Sexually, she was very confident and adventurous; little was beyond the pale for her.
Besides their maiden name, about the only thing those two sisters had in common was their obsessive competitiveness with each other.
In Angie's case that competitiveness also extended to Matt, Julie's husband. While the sisters were highly competitive with each other, the feeling of constant competition was even stronger between Matt and Angie. In fact, I'd wager that Angie would have rather lost to Julie than to Matt, and that's really saying something.
Speaking of wagering, it was a silly bet that started everything.
~ ~ ~
"Hey, little sister!" came Julie's happy voice through our speaker phone. "How would you like to have your big sister and her hubby come visit you guys for a week?"
"That would be awesome!" Angie exclaimed. "What's the occasion?"
"Matt has a week-long business seminar in Marin, and we thought it would be fun to have me come along, you know, kind of like a mini-vacation. We figure we'll grab a hotel somewhere up there, but we can't go to San Francisco and not spend some quality time with you two lovebirds, right?"
"Definitely not. Don't be ridiculous, though. You guys are going to stay here with us. We have a guest bedroom set up with everything you need, and we'd love to have you."
Two weeks later the four of us were sitting together at a nice harbor-view table in the airy, bustling dining room of Scoma's on Pier 47, enjoying an excellent dinner and a beautiful sunset on the water. After the usual pleasantries had been dispensed with and the wine had begun to lube everyone's tongues, the friendly bantering commenced in earnest.
The topic was Trivial Pursuit, which prompted Angie's teasing pronouncement that she and I as a team had never lost.
Matt laughed derisively. "Yeah, so? You're just along for the ride! Look at you taking credit for it, when we all know he's the one who answers nearly every question. The only ones you always answer are the movie questions and the 'Sports and Leisure' things about alcoholic beverages."
"Oh, bite me," said Angie, rolling her eyes. "I could beat you straight up."
"Great, and what are Dan and I supposed to do while you two idiots pound away at each other?" Julie asked.
"Fine," answered Angie. "Girls against boys. You guys up for it?" she grinned, putting her arm around Julie.
"Fine by me," I said.
"Fine by me too," Matt smiled. "You realize you have no chance against the two of us, right? Julie, what about you? What do you say?"
"Sounds fine to me. What do I care? It's just a silly game. It's not like we're playing for anything important."
"Ah, the built-in excuse," I teased.
"'We weren't even trying, 'cause the game doesn't matter!'"
Man, Angie hated being teased about losing. Her dark eyes burned liked hot coals. "So what are the stakes then, smart ass?" she asked, her tone fairly dripping with sarcasm.
"What would you like them to be, sweetie?" Matt replied condescendingly.
"Oh, so it's 'sweetie' now, is it? You're that cocky about this, now that you've got Mister Trivia Geek on your side? Name the stakes. We're in."
Stiffening, Julie turned to Angie. "Whoa, hold on. I'm not agreeing to just anything here, not without knowing what it is first. I want some input in this too."
"Fair enough," I said. "Okay, how does this sound: We all pick the stakes."
"Oh, and how does that work, exactly? I know how you think. You're up to something, and knowing you, it's something totally perverted," Angie grinned.
"No shit," Julie said, smiling at me. "What's spinning through your devious little brain this time? I'm not running naked through a car wash, you freak."
She threw a crouton at me to punctuate her point.
"No, no, trust me, ye of little faith," I shot back. "You're so worried about me and what I'll pick for the stakes? As usual, I'm way ahead of you. I have it all figured out so that nobody can piss and moan about it. Like I said, we're all going to pick the stakes, and here's how we'll do it. We're each going to write down a command to the losing team."
"A command?" asked Angie.
"Yeah, a command. Or a set of instructions. Or a dare. Whatever you want the losing team to do, write it down. We'll each write down three things on separate pieces of paper. We'll throw all twelve things into a hat, and the losing team has to pick one each day. Just make sure you don't go too crazy with what you write down since you're going to have to pick blindly from the hat, and you may end up having to do your own command. See? We all pick the stakes, including you, Julie."
"What if I don't want to do the command?" she asked, ever the cautious one. "Like I said, I'm not running naked through the mall just because I lost a stupid trivia game."
"Yeah," added Angie. "There has to be an 'out' rule, or something. I'm not so sure I'll be willing to do whatever it is you might come up with either."
"Ohhhh, lookie here, alert the media! The mighty Angelina is scared! Bwaaahahahaaa!" taunted Matt.
"I'm not scared, you blockhead, I'm sensible. Who knows what sort of stupid things you might come up with? Besides, Julie's here too. You know, Julie, your wife? Julie, the cautious, conservative one?"
"You mean 'Julie the prude,' don't you? Just say it. I know that's what you guys all think," Julie said morosely.
"Okay, look," I answered, trying to rein them back in before everything fell apart, "here's the 'out' rule. The losers can decide to decline a command, but then they have to choose
two more
, and they have to do them one right after the other, no questions asked. There's no saying no on the second try. That'll make it risky to turn down a command, since there needs to be some sort of penalty for turning one down. Keep in mind, half the picks in that hat will be things your team wrote, so you have a pretty decent chance of not picking something really bad. Besides, you never know, we may go easy on you."
