Ping Pong

The rest of the day went quickly, although with every passing hour he became more frustrated by Emma’s backhanded plotting. Seeing her beside his locker after the final class, he strode towards her, ready to rebuke her for what she’d done.

"Are you coming tonight?" Emma's face was a vision of tranquillity, her irresistible smile threatened to dampen his temper and he could feel the edges of his mouth begin to betray him as the muscles on his face began to mirror his girlfriend's visage. One smile from her was almost enough to make Isaac forget his original intentions. Her question made him pause. Tonight? What the hell was happening tonight?

Giggling at the growing confusion in Isaac's expression, Emma continued.

"Are you coming with the rest of us to hang out?"

"Wait, you mean the Friday night game?", Isaac replied incredulously.

"Yeah, are you coming?"

Dungeons and Dragons forgotten for the moment; Isaac tried to fit in why Emma would ever want him to attend again.

"Last time I was there, one moment I was bowling, and the next you were crying your eyes out!"

Emma's portrait of happiness morphed into a sour one, as if he had thrown water onto its wet paint.

Her voice was no longer lined with a bubbly dispensation, instead every word dripped with an unquestionable finality.

"This time will be different. I don't share, Isaac, so you won't be a fucking idiot and demand that you get to sleep with one of my friends. Pull that shit again and we're done."

Struck off balance by her sudden harshness, Isaac nodded meekly to placate her. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, both too prideful to give any ground, but Isaac was the first to break.

"Okay, sure. I'll go if that's what you want."

"It is."

"Okay, then I'm there. Listen, Emma, we need to talk about DnD. Why'd you go behind my back like that?"

"Look, Isaac... I know you're upset about that. I get it. Just give it a chance, trust me, you'll enjoy it." Her smile had returned now, this time with that all-too familiar mischievous undertone. She watched for his reaction, like a fox grinning at an oblivious mouse in the forest. But he did trust her, and there was no way of saying no without making things worse between them and ruining DnD forever, so it wasn't much of a choice.

"Okay Emma, we'll do it your way. Where is the game happening tonight?"

"We're playing ping pong; Grant's dad owns a gym, and he is letting us use it after seven o'clock. In the meantime, you're going to drive me to a park, and we're going to have a nice walk together."

And so, they did. Isaac took Emma to the local botanical gardens, where they strolled under canopies of green and amidst the beautiful orchestra of a thousand insects in harmony. It had been a while since it was just the two of them, without all the sexual undertones. Just friends. Just lovers in the garden. The entire experience reminded Isaac of what he liked so much about Emma in the first place; it wasn't just her looks, although she was an undeniable enchantress, it was her mannerisms, her laugh, the way she seemed so genuinely interested in his every word.

After a while of strolling, the couple sat atop a grassy noll besides a small stream. While the pair caught their breath from endless talking and rested their feet, Emma screamed in delight as a butterfly landed atop her raven-coloured hair. The insect's wings were impressive; almost as large as Isaac's palm, with a mix of vibrant oranges and blues. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the majestic critter flew away. In this moment, Isaac realised that in many ways Emma was a butterfly to him as well; you could stick a pin in it, admire its beauty as it sat lifeless and unmoving, yours to keep forever. But a kept butterfly could never compare in beauty or majesty to that of a free one. That's what Emma was, a free butterfly; and he wouldn’t have her any other way.

Snapping him out of his musings, Emma announced that the pair needed to get going; it was time for the game. When Isaac arrived, he was surprised to see that what he had assumed to be just a home gym in Grant's garage was in fact an actual fitness centre, a real business. Heading inside, the couple were greeted happily by Emma's friends. Boy or girl, none seemed offput by Isaac's previous appearance at their game, or at least decided not to mention it. The weightlifting equipment had been moved out of the way so that a large ping pong table could occupy the middle of the gym.

Another surprise came to Isaac when he noticed Martha, a new student who had moved here from England, was also present.

Martha was a small creature; standing up straight, the shy girl barely reached Isaac's shoulders. Her hair was a natural red that flowed straight down her scalp before being cut short just before it reached halfway down her neck. Her skin was almost disturbingly pale; the harsh LED reflected onto her face as if she was a small moon in the gym. The frame of Martha's body was obscured by baggy pants and a thick sweater that hung almost to her knees. Her face was long and thin, which, accompanied by her sharp cheekbones, made her seem almost elfish in appearance.

Weighing down her tiny nose were a hefty pair of glasses that threatened to fall off her face with the petite girl's every movement. Martha was constantly adjusting them, either to prevent them from shattering their thick lens on the ground below her or so she could clean them against the thick sweater. The frequent movement of the glasses, coupled with her compulsive brushing away of loose strands of hair that would rest across her cheeks gave Isaac the impression of a mouse cleaning its face. When Martha spoke, it was always with a soft tremor, as if she expected to be assaulted for merely voicing her presence, as well as with a cute smile that drifted in and out of existence like a butterfly floating between flowers. The redhead's bright green eyes, magnified in size by her glasses, darted comically across the room, refusing to meet with anyone else in their never-ending pursuit for comfort.

Over the past week, Emma and Sarah had taken Martha under their wing, for which the petite, auburn-haired newcomer seemed very grateful. However, Isaac was fairly convinced that the Friday night games were one activity where the perennially anxious girl did not belong.

"Does Martha know what happens after the game?", Isaac whispered into Emma's ear.

Emma let out a mischievous chuckle, "yes, she knows. She's very excited."

Martha's face, however, was not the only new one to the group, although certainly the less irritating to Isaac. Owen was walking towards them, the smug smile stretched across his face almost a caricature of self-satisfaction.

"What the fuck is he doing here?", Isaac urgently asked Emma.

"I don't know, I think he plays tennis with Matt so maybe thats how he got invited. Besides, with Martha here we needed another boy participating. Why do you care anyway, I thought you two were friends?"

Before Isaac could begin an elaborate explanation of how, Owen was in fact, not a friend, and that their connection was only one of necessity due to Owen being one of the few people willing to play DnD, and they actually heavily disliked each other, and that even the thought of him going home with Emma made him want to heave, Owen was already standing in front of them.

"Hey Isaac, how's it going? You saying goodbye to Emma before I whisk her away tonight?"

Before Isaac could punch the stupid prick's lights out, Emma had already dragged him away.

"Fucking piece of shit."

"Hey," Emma said, taking hold of Isaac's face and bringing her lips to his ear so that she could let out the softest of whispers, "if you win a game, I go home with you... And you get to have me however you want. But only first place, alright?"

Leaving Isaac no time to reply, Emma walked away to merge with the other girls at the side.

The games were best of five bouts in knockout-style brackets; once you lost a round you would play against the other losers of the same round whilst the winner would progress to the next round until there was a winner. Because there were eight players, they only needed three rounds.

Isaac's first game was against Justin; it proved easy to beat the stocky boy as Isaac was able to use his lighter frame to quickly reply to Justin's clumsy shots. Isaac won in three, ready to face Grant and get to the finals. Having watched Grant play in the previous round, the colossus of a teenager relied upon his strength to mount a serve near-impossible to hit back to the other side of the table. Additionally, Matt and Owen were both able to use their tennis skills, handily beating both their opponents and were set to face each other in the next bracket.

The first two bouts were losses; in the first, Grant served and Isaac was too slow to even think about moving his arm before the plastic ball had whizzed by him. In the second, Isaac got to serve and managed to make it competitive until he gave Grant an easy hit and once again allowed the ball to fly past his paddle. Learning from his mistakes, Isaac was able to win the next three rounds just by never allowing Grant an opportunity to hit a big shot, always giving it to him at awkward angles for the muscled teenager and being ready for his fast serves. Thus, Isaac was through to the finals.

Between Matt and Owen, the match was a similarly close one, taking all five rounds for the similarly skilled boys to get a result. Eventually though, Owen won out. Hence, Owen and Isaac were the final match up.

Unfortunately, however, it wasn't a close game. Owen was faster, and quicker than Isaac off of every hit, and was able to relentlessly pummel the ball to Isaac's side without break whilst Isaac had to desperately hit it back across without regard for strategy, giving Owen plenty of opportunities to end it, which the self-approving shit stain took full advantage of. Owen dispatched Isaac in just three rounds, making him the clear winner.

Exhausted from all the running, Isaac felt sick as he sat on the gym floor, trying to catch his breath as he watched Owen claim victory. The smug teen was parading around the gym, followed by a congratulatory group of boys. Isaac's vision was on the cusp of blurring with tears as he realised his worst fear might be coming true, and his exhaustion combined with fatigue from the lack of sleep in recent days was making his mind irrational. How could this have happened?

"I pick Martha."

Wait what? Did Owen just use his pick for Martha? The nervous girl's eyes widened at the words; it was hard to tell, but Isaac could swear her thin body was trembling underneath her massive jumper. Striding confidently across the gym, Owen whispered something into the newcomer's ears, which seemed to stop her from quivering like a leaf, before dragging her out of the gym. Still gasping for air, Isaac watched as the rest of the group disperse with their respective partners until it was just him, Grant and Emma left.

"Hey baby, Grant picked me."

Emma had a comforting smile on her face as she rubbed Isaac's shoulders, trying her best not to bruise his ego after his loss.

"Oh, okay. I'll head home then."

Emma frowned, placing one of her soft hands in Isaac's before lifting his chin such that their eyes met. They stared into one another for a moment, each taking comfort in the other's presence. Isaac could feel a piece of fabric being gently pushed by Isaac into his hands, looking down he saw it was a pair of pink panties. Her panties. Once again, their eyes met.

"If you want, Grant and I are going to use the shower here. He says it’s okay if you watch from behind the glass."

Isaac was shocked; she'd never allowed him to be this close before. He was so tired though; he was unsure that he could take any more emotions, it had all been so much with her lately.

Sensing his discomfort, Emma pecked him on the cheek before slowly getting up and giving one last word to Isaac.

"You don't have to babe; I'm not going to punish you if you don't. This one is optional; I know it’s been a lot lately."

With that, she briskly walked off to the men's locker, leaving Isaac in a dilemma.