Fading Echoes

"Hey, are you okay?" Denver leaned in, his voice barely audible over the professor's lecture, which filled the room with its commanding presence.

I turned to meet his gaze, finding him already looking at me intently.

"What's up with you?" I lowered my voice, directing my attention towards him.

"You seem different. And kind of excited about something," Denver observed, his familiarity with me evident in his perceptive words. It was one of the reasons our friendship had blossomed so quickly. Our bond was a testament to the fact that platonic friendships between guys and girls were not only possible but could thrive.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I deflected, shifting the focus onto him.

"Me? What's going on with me now?" He whispered back.

Amidst the professor's lecture, in the third row, two students huddled together, their heads bent down as they exchanged whispers so soft that even the professor's keen ears couldn't catch them.



"You're acting different. I can tell you're excited about something," I remarked.

He met my gaze with a mischievous grin. "Caught me. I can't wait for the welcome party."

I couldn't help but giggle, hastily muffling the sound with my hand. Unfortunately, our amusement didn't go unnoticed, drawing the professor's stern gaze upon us. With a pointed finger and a furrowed brow, she commanded us to leave the room immediately.

Head bowed in embarrassment, I trailed after him as we exited the room. While I was filled with shame, he seemed unfazed. Alone in the deserted corridor, we exchanged playful banter, two jesters in an empty hall.

"This is all your fault!"

"No way, it's totally on you!"

"How do you figure that?" I challenged, hands on hips.



"I noticed the change in your demeanor, so I couldn't help but ask what was up with you," he explained.

"But I told you there was nothing going on," I countered.

"You just changed the subject," he pointed out.

I pressed my lips together, unable to come up with a response. Deep down, I knew he was right. However, dwelling on it now wouldn't erase the embarrassment I had endured in front of the entire class. As the top student in my class, facing them after such a display would be difficult. And the disappointment on the professor's face only added to my shame. I could still vividly recall her expression as she singled me out for dismissal instead of Denver.

"Anyway, there's no changing what happened now," I muttered, turning away as I headed towards the end of the corridor.

"What... What do you mean, 'what happened'?" he asked, catching up to me.

"I was humiliated in front of the whole class, kicked out by the professor," I replied bitterly.

"Come on, Grace! It's not that big of a deal," he reassured.

"Not to you, maybe, but it is to me," I shot back.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," he said, hurrying to catch up as I walked away.

The sight of Daniel witnessing my humiliation in front of the entire class, orchestrated by none other than the professor herself, gnawed at me incessantly. "What did I do to deserve this?" I wondered, feeling the weight of my tarnished image in his eyes. The mere thought of the possible judgments he might be passing about me was agonizing.



With only 30 minutes remaining in the class, each passing second felt like an eternity. Despite Denver's attempts to distract me with his usual banter, my mind remained fixated on Daniel. What was he thinking? How had this incident colored his perception of me? The uncertainty was tormenting.



"Should I even concern myself with these questions? Is he truly that significant?" I pondered, grappling with my inner turmoil.



"Grace, come on, you can't stay mad at me for that. I've already apologized," Denver pleaded earnestly, standing by the badminton court.



"It's okay, let's just forget about it," I replied, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat. Seeing the tension on his face was difficult for me; he always looked out for me, and over time, I had grown accustomed to reciprocating that care.



"How about a game of badminton?" he suggested, his eyes meeting mine with determination.



"Sure, let's do it!" I agreed, following him onto the court. He retrieved a pair of rackets and a shuttlecock, his confidence evident in his actions.



Denver was skilled at badminton; I had only played with him once before, and he had thoroughly defeated me. Unlike him, I wasn't particularly proficient at the sport. Back home, Carl and I would occasionally play, but neither of us excelled at it. As a result, I never had the opportunity to refine my skills.



After just one game with him, I quickly realized the immense effort required to reach his level of skill. As expected, Denver was dominating the match, leading 2-0 while I struggled to keep up. Thankfully, this impromptu game lacked an audience; I couldn't bear the thought of others witnessing my defeat.



As Denver scored his third point, widening the gap between us, a stream of students poured out from the corridors. The period had ended, and everyone was eager to head home. Their faces bore the weariness of a long day, their bodies burdened by fatigue. With their minds set on nothing but collapsing into bed, they trudged down the roads, eager to find respite in sleep.



As the last of the students disappeared down the corridor, Denver and I paused our game, catching our breaths. The fading echoes of footsteps signaled the end of the bustling school day. Leaning against the badminton net, I glanced at Denver, a sense of camaraderie settling between us amidst the quietude.



"Looks like we have the court to ourselves now," Denver remarked, a playful glint in his eyes.



I chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Seems like it. Ready for round four?"



With a grin, Denver tossed the shuttlecock into the air, ready to resume our friendly competition. As we continued to play, the tension of the day melted away, replaced by the simple joy of friendship and shared moments on the court.