A Game Of Names
1133 Words
Evan slipped into the classroom just as the first bell faded into silence. His eyes immediately found Bethany by the window, her notebook half-filled with doodles, pencil moving in lazy loops. She glanced up, and for a brief second, her face lit with a spark that still caught him off guard every time.
Bethany: “Hi, Evan!”
He offered no reply, brushing past her as he dropped his bag onto the floor with a soft thud. Sliding into his seat, he avoided her gaze. Bethany’s smile faltered, replaced by a neutral stare, as if she’d expected the cold shoulder all along.
Minutes stretched, the teacher’s voice blending into background noise. Evan’s mind wandered, tracing her expression, the curve of her jaw, the subtle lift of her eyebrows—until he finally broke the silence.
Evan: “I heard you weren’t feeling well. Are you okay now?”
Bethany (nonchalant, eyes darting to her notebook): “I’m fine now. Thanks for asking.”
He noticed the slight tension in her shoulders ease, but there was still a hint of distance. Maybe curiosity. Maybe indifference. The bell rang for break, and Evan made his way to his usual spot under the stairwell, half-expecting her to appear, to tease him like she always did. The hallway emptied. The cafeteria buzzed. Bethany never came.
When the next bell rang, Evan trudged back to class, disappointment tugging at his chest. The empty desk beside him seemed almost taunting, a silent question lingering in the space she usually occupied. His attention drifted, replaying their brief exchange: the way her eyes had flickered, the subtle avoidance, the smile that tried to hide something.
Two Days Later – Saturday
Bethany had plans to meet Ava at the arcade, but a last-minute text from her friend citing a family emergency ruined the plan. She sighed, letting disappointment settle in her chest as she trudged toward the bus stop, earbuds in, music soft and low—a shield from the world.
From across the parking lot, a familiar voice cut through the afternoon hum, louder than the distant traffic.
Evan (shouting): “Hey, Bethany!”
Startled, she turned. His silhouette was unmistakable: tall, steady, calm. He jogged over, sneakers scuffing the cracked asphalt, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Evan: “What are you doing here all alone?”
Bethany: “I was supposed to meet Ava, but she bailed on me… so I’m heading home. What are you doing here?”
He lifted a reusable grocery bag, contents clinking softly.
Evan: “Uh… I live around here. Just got back from the store.”
Bethany (shrugging, trying to sound casual): “Okay then, bye.” She started walking, shoulders slumping.
Evan’s hand shot out, brushing gently against her arm. Not pulling, just a light touch that made her pause.
Evan (softly): “Hey, did I do something wrong? You keep avoiding me, even in class.”
Bethany (frustrated, muttering): “No… you’re not interested in being friends with me, so I’m just… letting you be. Cause you always say that to me.”
Evan’s voice softened, a rare vulnerability slipping through:
Evan: “I’m sorry… I don’t know how to be friends with people. But I can learn if you teach me.” He offered a tentative smile, as if asking permission.
Bethany (grinning despite herself): “I’ll do that… but only for a fee, of course!”
They both laughed, the tension between them dissolving like mist under sunlight.
Evan: “Instead of heading home, why don’t you teach me how to be friends with people?”
Bethany: “Okay… sure. But firstly… how much am I getting paid?”
Evan: “A dollar for each section?”
Bethany (mock serious): “Is your mom aware she’s raising a thief?”
Evan chuckled, the sound bouncing across the asphalt. They fell into step together, heading toward the arcade. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in streaks of orange and gold. Their shadows stretched long, reaching across the cracked pavement like fingers brushing each other.
Evan: “Which game are you good at?”
Bethany: “Basketball.”
Evan’s eyebrows shot up, surprise breaking through his calm demeanor.
Evan: “Basketball? Who taught you?”
Bethany: “My dad!” She beamed, pride glowing in her eyes. “Every weekend, he’d take me to the court.”
Evan (low, almost to himself): “Wow… all my dad did was run away.”
Bethany (softly): “Oh… I’m sorry…”
Evan (quickly, shrugging): “No… it’s fine. We’re better off without him anyway. Let’s make a bet, BETH.”
Bethany (surprised): “BETH?”
Evan: “Yeah… Bethany’s too long, so I’m calling you BETH. Or do you prefer Martins?” He raised a teasing eyebrow.
Bethany: “Uh… anyone but not Martins!”
Evan (grinning): “Okay, Martins it is.”
Bethany (snapping back, playful): “I said not Martins!”
Evan: “Okay… okay… If you win me, I’ll call you BETH. But if you lose… MARTINS it is.”
Bethany (determined): “Okay! First to 5. Bring it on.”
They dove into the arcade’s basketball game. The screen flickered, the crowd cheered, scores flipping back and forth. Bethany’s fingers trembled slightly over the buttons. Evan’s calm demeanor seemed almost calculated, masking a rush of excitement. When Bethany missed the final shot, Evan burst into laughter.
Evan: “Martins it is!!”
Bethany: “Rematch!” she demanded, playful fire sparking in her eyes.
They moved through air hockey, racing simulators, and claw machines, laughing at every bump, every exaggerated loss, every silly victory. The neon lights danced across their faces, painting their small victories and defeats in electric hues.
Eventually, Evan checked his watch, realizing the evening had quietly slipped away.
Evan: “I should probably walk you home. It’s getting late.”
Bethany: “Yeah… my dad will freak if I’m out after dark.”
The cool night air hit them as they left the arcade, a welcome contrast to the warm chaos inside. On the sidewalk, under amber streetlights, they exchanged numbers. Fingers brushed lightly, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to pause.
At her doorstep, they lingered, neither wanting the night to end. Evan felt a warmth he hadn’t realized he was missing—her laughter, her teasing, the unexpected honesty. Bethany felt the same, a sense of belonging blooming in her chest, fragile yet fierce.
They promised to meet again, maybe another arcade night, maybe a study session. The hum of distant traffic surrounded them, but in that quiet bubble, it felt like just the beginning.
Despite his initial reluctance to talk to her, Evan couldn’t shake off the feeling that he needed to check in on Bethany.
- Writer
