Awkward and Difficult

It's about 9:00 on a boisterous evening at the sports park. Awkward has dashed away from the game to the port-a-potty at the edge of the lights because it would be more than her name could cover if she peed her pants on the field. She is true to herself on this bathroom run, standing on one foot, holding her breath and hovering, then yanking her shorts somewhat into place and leaping out of the blue plastic box while trying not to touch anything.

She lands and exhales loudly...and there is Difficult. Standing just a couple of feet away, eyebrows raised. Difficult is pretty, if aging, and looks nice in a calf-length skirt with perfect hair and subtle makeup. Awkward feels the disadvantage of the bunched waistband of her shorts, dripping sweat and wild hair escaping her ponytail.

"Hey, aren't you Awkward?" Difficult smiles. Of course, Difficult knows Awkward's name, they have met and spoken at social events several times.

"Yeah," Awkward breathes heavily and nods. In her true style, Awkward then claps her hands and raises her eyebrows, "I gotta go." She turns and runs back to the field, away from Difficult and away from a conversation she isn't going to have.

Maybe it isn't all Difficult's fault, but she got herself into this situation, and that shit she just pulled was a manipulative power play. She had played her own game, being both manipulator and manipulated until she had landed in a position so true to her name. Sure, she hadn't hurt Awkward, but that wasn't enough to make them friends.

After this, Awkward will continue to avoid Difficult, who will smile and wave whenever convenient. Awkward will feel awkward, and to her limited perception, it will appear that Difficult has no idea how difficult she truly is.