It Started with a Bet... (Watty Awards 2011)

A large body slips into bed next to me, reeking of disorientation and alcohol

A large body slips into bed next to me, reeking of disorientation and alcohol

Trevor hasn't talked to me in a while. I told him about me. The real me. He reacted strangely. It was like he sympathized, but really didn't. His eyes got wide, and he stared at me for a long time without speaking. His mom came in, asking me to stay for dinner, but Trevor just waved her away, his face still thoughtful.

His mom didn't even ask and when his dad opened his mouth to yell for him, she put a hand on his sleeve and shook her head. He came out, finally, with a big grin on his face like he'd come to his decision. But when he raised his eyes to my face, his smile disappeared.  I looked very different, I'm sure. That everlasting smile was no longer abusing my cheekbones, my face hid behind my long side-bangs. I had been thinking about something...someone else so I didn't notice him right away. Something flickered in his eyes before he sat down across from me.

Now he talks to his mom, to his dad. But I don't speak, and he doesn't even look at me. I didn't know that was possible, the way we were sitting. Whatever. I do what I normally do during dinner: zone out.

"He's totally into you."
"Who, Mark?" Trina wrinkles her nose in disgust.
"Yes! How have you not noticed? The way he looks at you and cares about you..." I look at Trina imploringly. She shrugs.
"He gave me half his lunch yesterday when I forgot mine..."
"See!" I lean back against my bed. "Well?" Trina looks up from the pungent bottle of nail polish. Bright yellow. Her favorite color.
"Well what?"
"Do you like him back?" I ask. She shakes her head and wrinkles her nose again.
"Eww, no! He's our friend,” she insists. I waggle my eyebrows at her.
"That's because you have someone else you can't forget about..." I know she doesn’t want to talk about it, but I can’t resist the jab at Trina’s little crush. She blushes and looks back down, perfecting the color on her ring finger.
"Yeah...I guess."

"Haley!" I feel something kick my leg and look up, annoyed. Trevor looks away quickly. I turn and see Trevor's mom looking at me.

"What do you think, dear?"she asks.  I look from her to Trevor's dad and back.

"Think about what? Sorry, I was spacing out."

"Trevor's going to party tomorrow night, and we want him to take you." I laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

"I'd rather stay home."

Trevor looks at me for a second. He opens his mouth as if to object, but then closes it. “Okay,” he says finally.

I just raise an eyebrow at him and turn back to my food. I'm having immense difficulty with the chopsticks.

"We have forks if you'd like one," Trevor's dad says stiffly. I shake my head.

"No thanks, uh..." I pause. "What am I supposed to call you?" Trevor's dad opens his mouth, but his wife cuts him off.

"Call him Dad. And me Mom. Because one way or another, you're going to end up as part of the family." Awkward. Pause.

"Um...no thanks...Dad." I say, spitting out the words with great difficulty. Trevor's face twists a bit, but Trevor's...no, Dad, smiles back. "I want to figure this out sooner or later." He nods and goes back to his food.

"Why don't you go to parties?" Mom asks, not wanting to change the subject. I shrug.
"I just don't."
"Do you not like the noise?"
I shrug.
"Is it the dancing?"
I shrug.
"Is it--" I stop her with a hand.
"I. just. don't. Can we end this discussion?" She opens her mouth to ask again, but Dad puts a hand on her arms. Things start tugging at the back of my mind, and I feel like I'm about to throw up. I stand up. Trevor stares up at me curiously.

"Bathroom," I say and start walking down the hallway to the bathroom. I stand over the toilet and retch. Nothing happens. As usual. But as I pretend to throw up, I feel the nausea subside. I wash my hands for the hell of it and throw open the door. Trevor's standing there, a guilty look on his face.

"Sorry, did you need to use the bathroom?" I ask, as nicely as I can.

"Just stop it, Haley. You don't have to be polite around me if you don't want to." I look up at him quietly.

"Thank you. Then I'll act however I want." If he goes all therapist on me, I swear I'll kill him.

Sit down on this couch, tell me how you feel. It's all confidential. You can be whoever you want in front of me. I won't hurt you. Just trust me. I trust you. Liar. Dirty, filthy liar.

I walk past Trevor but he grabs my arm and bites his lip. "Did you throw up?" I shake my head.

"No, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"Haley, I said you could act however you want,” he whines. Stupid therapist. Why must you assume things about me?

"Stop, Trevor. You said I could be whoever I wanted in front of you and I said okay, didn't I? So just sit back and trust me. I'm still normal most of the time, okay? Stop second guessing me." He nods a bit.

"It's been four years. I'm not going to act like I'm mourning or lost all the time." I walk past him and back to the dinner table. Mom is looking at me strangely. I ignore her and sit down. Trevor comes in shortly afterwards. His mom gives him a look, but he just shrugs as if to say I really did just go to the bathroom. Good boy.