“30-Love” Stephanie calls.

  “Yeah, well I love you 300” Bethany responds.

  The redhead on the opposite side of the court sighs before walking over to grab the tennis ball that was just hit well outside of the square boxes you are supposed to hit them into. Bethany doesn’t really understand the formal names for all the stuff in tennis (aside from the scoring because it lets her flirt with her girlfriend), but she finds it fun to come here and py at times nevertheless.

  Granted, part of it is because she gets to see the cute outfits Steph puts together.

  The other part of it is because the pce is named after her.

  Well granted, technically not her. They’re named after him.

  The Aaron Holt Memorial tennis courts were in the process of pnning when a certain boy found himself locked up in the cheery girlboss torture box. Presumed dead by the outside world, his parents directed the remainder of the substantial amount of money they had paid the university to be used for a public project named after the boy.

  If they couldn’t have their son improve their image alive, he would do so dead.

  As such, Bethany finds a certain amount of catharsis from coming here and being her genuine irreverent self. She enjoys coming here in a short skirt and top that exposes her tits to show off to her girlfriend. It’s as if she’s dancing on the grave of her old life.

  There probably is a gravestone with his name out there somewhere, but Bethany doesn’t care enough to find it so the tennis courts will have to do.

  “40-Love” Stephanie calls. Fuck she must have missed Steph’s serve while she was distracted.

  Okay Beth, time to stop reminiscing on the past (and how cute your girlfriend is) and focus on winning. The two of them made a bet where the loser would have to pay for dinner tonight, and Bethany would rather like her purse feeling a little heavier.

  Unfortunately for Bethany, this renewed focus did not help her much. Perhaps she should actually try learning how to take tennis seriously at some point if she was going to keep coming back here to make bets on it? Eh, nah that would take work, and Beth has other priorities.

  Beth takes a long gulp of water from her bottle and heads over to where steph was cleaning up.

  Grabbing two stray balls that were on the ground, Bethany saw an opportunity for a joke, and Bethany has never not been one for humor when the opportunity arose.

  “That darn Aaron Holt. Couldn’t even take his balls with him when he croaked.” Bethany said with as straight a face she could muster.

  Stephanie burst out ughing, a beautiful sound. Bethany always loved hearing her girlfriend ugh and she aspired to witness it as often as she could.

  Unfortunately this beautiful moment in time was interrupted by a startlingly familiar voice.

  “Ugh, children these days. Did no one ever teach you two to not disrespect the dead?”

  No.

  It can’t be.

  Bethany slowly turned her head around and hoped to Aunt Bea she was wrong.

  She was not.

  In front of her stood two people she never thought she would see again outside of grainy pictures in the update packets.

  Charlotte and Markus Holt.

  Her parents.

  Bethany has dreamed of this day for so long. She’s thought about countless speeches she would give to them expining the ways they failed her growing up. She’s tested countless jokes she would use to mortify her parents if they ever met again at what became of their precious boy.

  In the moment though, the librarian in her head keeping those things organized is running around screaming, so the only pn Bethany has is to stare dumbfounded.

  Seemingly noticing her disbelief, Bethany’s father pounces “Oh so now you have some respect? Only willing to say what you think about our son when you don’t think anyone is looking, eh? Pathetic.”

  Bethany doesn’t know what to say. She’s scrambling in her brain to think of something witty to spit out, a tactic that has served her well in the past. Unfortunately her brain is returning a 404 error, response not found, and she’s back to those nights before fancy dinners when her parents would inspect her for imperfections. After all, you wouldn’t want to let the businessman you were thinking of making a deal with think you’re human, would you?

  Bethany can feel a strong grip on her arm, and is firmly reminded that she’s not alone here. She has Steph.

  “You two are Mr. and Mrs. Holt, yes?” Steph inquires with a clear edge to the voice.

  “Yes we are, the parents of whose child you were mocking,” her father replies sternly.

  “Then I would assume you were aware of your son’s hobby regarding women. It was brought forward for administrative review several times after all.”

  Her father scoffs “Complete lies and snder.”

  “Mr. Holt I can tell you I am intimately familiar with your te son’s penis, and that sometimes people turn to darker humor to cope with trauma.” Steph replies confidently. Beth has to giggle at this. Steph isn’t wrong per se here, it’s just that the truth is very much not the image her parents are imagining here.

  “So you’re saying that you were one of my son's supposed victims from that markey” Bethany’s father scoffs.

  “Whether you believe it or not doesn’t particurly matter, it’s all moot anyways. I just thought maybe it would benefit you to understand some perspectives.”

  Bethany’s father then turns to her and Bethany struggles under the intensity of the familiar gaze. “Hmph, and what about you, young dy? Are you another one of those women who cims to have been traumatized by my te son?”

  Bethany freezes. Wilting under the pressure exerted by the force of his gre. But in this moment of darkness, a tiny speck of light beckons, as Bethany realizes something.

  They don’t recognize her.

  She is not the weak Aaron Holt.

  She is Bethany Erin (soon-to-be) Riley.

  Bethany straightens herself up and looks at the man who cimed to fill a paternal role in her life for 21 years “Oh yes I can think I can say that I was unfortunately stuck with that unfortunate visage for quite a while. Really I’m not sure why he wanted to show it off. It was quite meager.”

  Bethany watches her father reel. God that’s satisfying. It’s not like she can tell him about the other big pn she ruined, but she can imagine what it would look like. Markus Holt was always a man who liked pns. He pnned out the rise of his business. He pnned the sale that made him rich. He pnned how his son would live his life to give him the most prestige. This was something he could not pn for, and while it might not be wise, Bethany was pnning on reveling in it.

  “Well now I know you’re just making things up,” a flustered Markus Holt eventually responds.

  “Really? I have to imagine I saw the object in question more recently than you did. Unless of course you did regur inspections of your son’s genitalia, which would expin quite a bit.” Bethany of course knows that wasn’t true, but her father doesn’t know that.

  “Are you implying that my son’s fate was my fault?” her father asks, veins bulging out in his forehead.

  “Well I can’t say it was all you, but from what I saw, it certainly didn’t seem like you were helping.” Bethany crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. She knows that this kind of challenge to his image is something her father couldn’t stand.

  “This is absurd! And reflects poorly on the both of you! I highly doubt any respectable young man would be willing to look at you if this is how you respond to romantic gestures!”

  Steph, the perfect woman that she is, recognizes the opportunity alongside Bethany, and holds out her hand for Bethany to take with the grace that was drilled into her in her second year.

  “I don’t think that will be a problem Mr. Holt, my girlfriend and I are quite happy,” Bethany says with a sickeningly sweet tone.

  Bethany wishes she had a camera filming this whole situation right now, because her father’s face is hirious. He looks like a pufferfish right now all blown up and red. God this is great. Bethany is going to have to ask Christine if there are any security cameras in the area that have footage of the event. If there is, she's keeping it framed on her wall.

  “Well I see now that my son was clearly too good for you. Obviously. Being like that you clearly know that. Why else would you come to such a ridiculous conclusion?” Bethany’s dad bluster.s Bethany meanwhile, is currently trying very hard to keep a straight face (is it still called a straight face when you are being very gay? A question for ter).

  “Charlotte, we’re leaving!” Markus Holt commands his wife before storming off. Bethany’s mother gives one st look of utter disinterest to the two girls before sighing and following her husband.

  A silence falls upon the two lovers left behind by the angry unknowing parents. Bethany looks into the eyes of her girlfriend.No words are needed to establish the next course of action as Bethany and her girlfriend both burst out ughing.

  roboscout64