The Day He Wasn’t There
1655 Words
The next morning, the school gates groaned open with their usual metallic creak, and students poured in like a rising tide—talking, laughing, dragging backpacks that thudded rhythmically against the pavement. Bethany walked through slowly, her footsteps light but her thoughts heavy. The sky still carried the soft haze of early dawn, and the grass glittered faintly with dew. Her sneakers dampened as she made her way toward her usual waiting spot near the front entrance.
She didn’t smile.
She didn’t wave at anyone.
Her eyes were fixed on one thing—the empty space near the curb where Mrs. Lee’s blue car usually appeared.
But today, the spot was bare.
A soft, uneasy flutter rose in her stomach.
Maybe they’re just late, she told herself. Maybe the traffic is bad, or Evan overslept…
But even as she tried to convince herself, a quiet knot of worry began to twist inside her.
The first bell rang, and the courtyard erupted into movement. Bethany fell into step with the crowd, her mind nowhere near the chatter around her. Students squeezed through the hallway, the scent of fresh marker ink lingering in the air, and lockers slammed rhythmically like a heartbeat.
When she slipped into the classroom, her eyes instantly shot to the seat beside hers.
Still empty.
She swallowed.
Then the roll call began.
“Evan Lee.”
A beat of silence.
The teacher marked him absent.
Bethany’s heart sank—hard.
She stared at his chair. The sight of it—quiet, untouched, painfully still—felt like a punch to her chest. She could almost picture his notebook there, the edges frayed, little doodles dancing clumsily across the margins. He never showed anyone those doodles. But he’d shown her.
And now he wasn’t here.
Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of her desk.
Bethany (whispering): “Hope he’s not missing school because I refused to talk to him.”
Regret pinched her. She had pushed him away yesterday, thinking he was hiding things from her. Thinking he didn’t trust her. And now…
Now he wasn’t here.
The rest of the morning blurred.
Every lesson dragged like a heavy, rusted wheel. The teacher’s voice became distant, muffled… like she was speaking from underwater. Bethany stared at the clock so often she was almost sure she was making the hands move slower.
By third period, her heart was pounding every time the door opened, hoping it was him. By fourth, she felt a dull ache throb behind her ribs.
Finally, lunch arrived.
Bethany sat at her usual table, untouched food sitting in front of her, her gaze locked on the floor.
Ava plopped down next to her, tray rattling.
Ava: “Girl. You look like you witnessed a tragedy.”
Bethany forced a smile, but it was thin and wobbly.
Bethany: “I’m fine.”
Ava raised a brow.
Ava: “Lies. Spill.”
Bethany inhaled, shaky.
Bethany: “Evan didn’t come.”
Ava: “Again? He wasn’t in school yesterday either.”
Bethany: “Yeah. And it’s weird. He didn’t text me. Nothing.”
Ava: “Maybe he’s just sick.”
Bethany shook her head.
Bethany: “He would’ve told me.”
Ava’s teasing expression softened.
Ava: “Okay… that is strange.”
Bethany picked at her fries, no appetite whatsoever. Her thoughts kept circling back to the same fear: What if something’s wrong? What if he’s hurting and she wasn’t there?
The bell rang.
Lunch ended.
Her anxiety didn’t.
Throughout her last classes, every tick of the clock gnawed at her nerves. She found herself rereading the same lines in her notes over and over without taking in a single word.
The moment the final bell rang, she didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t going to do something reckless.
She grabbed her bag, hurried through the waves of students heading home, and made straight for the gate.
She couldn’t sit and hope anymore.
She had to know.
⸻
THE WALK TO HIS HOUSE
The streets outside the school were warm with late afternoon sunlight, and students spilled onto sidewalks, chattering about homework and weekend plans. But Bethany barely noticed any of it. Her breath quickened with each step toward Evan’s neighborhood.
It felt like miles—even though it wasn’t.
When she finally reached his house, she froze at the foot of the walkway.
The little white picket fence seemed somehow quieter.
The windows darker.
The air heavier.
Her palms were sweating as she walked up the steps.
She hesitated… then lifted her hand to knock.
Before she could, the door swung open.
Mrs. Lee stood there.
Her face lit up with surprise and soft warmth. But beneath the smile, Bethany noticed something else—tired eyes, the kind worn from years of quiet heartbreak.
Mrs. Lee: “Hi there!”
Bethany straightened instantly.
Bethany: “Good day, ma’am.”
Mrs. Lee: “You looking for Evan?”
Bethany nodded, throat tight.
Bethany: “He hasn’t been at school… and I just wanted to check if he was okay.”
Mrs. Lee’s eyes softened even more.
Mrs. Lee: “Oh dear. Evan is fine. But he missed school today because… today is my daughter’s death anniversary.”
Bethany’s breath hitched.
Her heart dropped.
Bethany: “Oh… I’m so sorry, ma’am.”
Mrs. Lee offered a small, sad smile.
Mrs. Lee: “Thank you, dear. He’s not home right now. He went out with Whiskers. He needed some fresh air.”
Bethany nodded slowly.
Mrs. Lee: “Would you like to come in? I could make some tea.”
Bethany: “Thank you, ma’am… but I think I’ll come back another time.”
Mrs. Lee reached out and gently squeezed her arm.
Mrs. Lee: “If you see him… tell him I said hello.”
Bethany nodded respectfully, then turned away, her mind spinning.
As she walked down the street, one memory of Evan surfaced sharply.
A place I go when it gets too hard… the beach.
Her steps quickened.
⸻
THE BEACH
The bus ride was short but felt endless. When she got off, the salty breeze rushed into her lungs like a strange kind of comfort.
She walked across the wooden boardwalk.
The sky blushed with orange and gold.
The waves murmured in slow, soothing breaths.
And then—
She saw him.
Sitting alone on the sand.
Knees drawn up.
Staring at the ocean… like he was waiting for it to take some piece of his pain.
Whiskers lounged lazily beside him, occasionally pawing at the wind.
Bethany approached quietly.
Bethany: “Hey.”
Evan looked up.
The second his eyes met hers, something loosened in his shoulders. Relief washed over his face.
Evan: “How did you know I was here?”
Bethany: “I went to your house. Your mom told me about… today.”
Evan nodded, gaze drifting back to the waves.
Evan: “I’m not fine.”
Bethany didn’t say sorry.
She didn’t tell him to cheer up.
She simply sat beside him.
Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t awkward.
It was heavy… comforting… necessary.
Finally, Evan spoke again.
Evan: “Why did you come looking for me?”
Bethany met his eyes.
Bethany: “I wanted to check on a classmate.”
A soft, pained smile tugged at his lips.
Evan: “You didn’t have to.”
Bethany: “Sometimes… people need someone even when they don’t ask.”
Evan let out a weak chuckle.
Evan: “Yeah. True.”
Bethany nudged him gently.
Bethany: “Wanna get out of here? Maybe go to the arcade?”
Evan blinked.
Evan: “The arcade?”
Bethany: “Trust me. It works wonders.”
Evan hesitated—then nodded.
Evan: “Alright. Let’s go.”
⸻
THE ARCADE — LIGHT AFTER DARKNESS
They walked together, Whiskers trotting proudly behind as if escorting royalty. The arcade welcomed them with neon lights, the chaotic chorus of electronic beeps, and the clang of metal tokens.
For the first time that day, Evan’s face brightened.
They launched into a game of air hockey—fast, loud, ridiculous.
Evan: “You’re not bad, Martins!”
Bethany: “I’m amazing, don’t lie.”
They raced virtual cars, arms jerking wildly as they pretended they were in a real chase. Evan even managed to beat her at one game.
They danced terribly on the dance pad.
They laughed until their sides hurt.
They forgot the world for a few minutes.
It wasn’t perfect.
But it was enough.
⸻
THE BURGER SPOT
When the hunger hit, they crossed the street to the burger shop. It was warm, cozy, filled with the smell of sizzling meat and fries. They slid into a booth.
Evan: “Thanks for coming, Beth. Really.”
Bethany: “Anytime.”
They ate.
Talked.
Laughed again.
For a moment, Evan wasn’t the boy shaped by grief.
He was just Evan.
⸻
THE WALK HOME
After dinner, they walked back in the cool night air. Their footsteps echoed softly on the pavement.
When they reached her house—
Bethany: “I’m home.”
Evan stopped a few steps away.
Evan: “Go inside and get some rest. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
Bethany: “Okay then, get home safe. And call me if you need to talk.”
He waved, smiled gently, and disappeared down the street.
Inside, her father sat reading.
Mr. Martins: “Long day?”
Bethany: “Yeah… Evan’s sister… it’s the anniversary.”
Mr. Martins: “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
Bethany: “He’s just a classmate.”
Her dad only chuckled.
She showered, thinking of the waves, the arcade laughter, and how grief could sit beside someone without making them crumble.
Later in bed, her phone buzzed.
A text.
Evan: “Thanks for today. Means a lot. See you tomorrow.”
She smiled.
Replied softly.
And finally drifted off to sleep.
- Writer
