Write Your Name
In August, Trevor was wandering heavily in his mind, and he wanted to replace his name with something more suited to his liking. He entered his English class wondering oddly if he tried to sign his name differently on his assignments. To sum up his anxiety he thought to ask a few of his peers, and maybe the substitute. He had gotten a bad case of the blues last night; trembling in his sleep holding excitement within, he was practically nervous about what he had concluded about what he might do today. A few students waited outside and Trevor chose carefully where to line up on the wall, as the class waited for their substitute to arrive. Seeing a boy, who was kind and fresh on every Friday, and smiled quickly at Trevor before looking back at his phone, Trevor got behind him in the line as the class waited for their substitute to arrive and open the door. He turned around as Trevor set his backpack on the ground.
“Is everything good?“, the boy asked.
Trevor, suddenly feeling encouraged that he came to class, stayed neutral. “I think so, why? Do I look like something is wrong?“.
The boy smiled, “No”, he said softly as he could, “you just look upset is all”.
How dare he, Trevor thought, how dare he notice how tired I am.
“I guess I am”, Trevor said, now comfortable to be continued. “I’ve been having one of those existential crises for a while”.
The boy chuckled. “Oh yes, I have them too”.
Trevor finally smiled, happy he humored him. “you do?“, he said.
“Yes, intentionally sometimes”, the boy said.
They both chuckled lightly and felt neat to be the first ones to talk in the morning. Now going quiet, the conversation sadly not continuing, Trevor was thrilled when he said, “I thought about changing my name”.
The boy looked back. “Really, How so?“.
Trevor, filled with wonder with himself, remained neutral again. “I thought about Chris or Daniel”.
“Really? Chris is my name”, the boy said.
Trevor, noticing he wasn’t embarrassed, waited to see if Chris had anything to add, Chris suddenly said, “No. I like Trevor better. That suits you better, I think”.
Trevor glanced down at the ground and said, “Really, I sometimes think it means doom”. He waited.
The boy nodded, not saying anything else.
Trevor sees the substitute and remains quiet for a bit, as the sub, naturally as he can, goes to the door and unlocks it, letting the students walk in first to take their seats. And before Trevor can let Chris go to his seat, as the students start speaking to one another, he says, “I think my life has to suit my name as well”. Trevor then sits and lets his backpack hang on the chair.
The second period had begun and Trevor was stable enough to go to his next class. When he sat down, a girl, who Trevor went to for help but wasn’t keen on becoming friends, looked at him with a small, but noticeable, glance, she said, “Are you tired?”.
Trevor looks at her, smiles, then says, “What do you mean?”.
The girl opens her backpack and traces herself a notebook and pencil and clean earbuds, and responds, “you look tired”. What’s with them today, Trevor thought. Can’t I not look sad for fun; Trevor thought about what he had concluded about what he’ll do today and felt light when looking at his backpack and others.
“Everything is fine, just feeling a bit down- it could be the semester midway”.
She nods. “I know what you mean”, she says lightly. “I’m starting to get irritated by my science teacher. It started out fine but later got stale and boring. Which is sad because I do love science”. Thinking again, the conversation is about to go short,
Trevor said quickly, “I thought about changing my name.”
The girl nods, glances away and back, looking at the students coming in, and asks what name he might propose. Trevor leans over and whispers, “Liam, or Noah”.
The girl chuckles and smiles. Looking at the clock, she says, “My boyfriend has the same name. His name is Noah”.
“Really”, Trevor says, then adds, “I didn’t know that”. The girl gets out her phone as the teacher prepares her computer at her desk, and as the class continues to wait, a few speak lightly, afraid they might be interrupted, the girl then says, “I think you should stick with Trevor - it suits you”.
At lunch, with the tables nearly not as full on a Friday, Trevor noticed his friends sitting at the end of the hall, near math class, and sat with them. “I thought about changing my name”, he said. His friends listened, proposing a few of course, but once Trevor mentioned: Dominic, Steven, or Roger, one of them said, ‘Hey, that’s my boyfriend’s name’, or said, ‘That’s also my profile name’. Trevor giggled wondering if they ever considered he was possibly unable to form unbothered conversation, without a plan, or conscious effort. One of them then said, “No, stick with Trevor”. Without any other topic to add in, Trevor asked why. “I just don’t see you without any other name, you sound neater and nicer; to be frank, I wouldn’t take you seriously other than Trevor. I think it’s a nice name”.
When lunch had ended, the students now departing back into their tired selfs, now suspended by belief they will be home soon to either eat, go to bed, or do homework, Trevor went to his art class. The teacher, Mrs. Nancy came over to Trevor when she saw him sit at his seat as the students came in; she pulled out a chair and sat with him.
“Not to make you frightened, but I just want to see if you are doing alright”, she says.
“I am, why? Do I seem upset? Maybe tired, because I am”. Trevor smiled, hoping he gave a nice soft presence to Mrs. Nancy, but before she could smile, she said, “I’m just making sure. I just want to let you know that if you need anything, I’m here if you need to talk”. Thinking the conversation was coming to an end, Trevor said thank you and nodded his head. Mrs. Nancy then adds, “I’ve been checking on your work, and I just want to make sure you’re doing fine because- well to be honest- they do look very violent and disperse. But of course, it’s your work not mine”.
Trevor smiles, feeling nervous without forcing it. “I have been thinking a lot, but not anything frightening. I’ve been thinking about changing my name for fun for example”.
Mrs. Nancy glanced around, making sure the students were well seated, she asked what the names might be.
“I’ve been thinking: Picasso, or Da Vinci”. Mrs. Nancy nodded, almost giggling, “Your favorite artists”, she said brightly. Trevor smiled and looked around, making sure everyone noticed Mrs. Nancy was talking to him; he turned back, as Mrs. Nancy began, “If I’m being frank, I think your name is cool for a good artist name: Trevor Nelson. I don’t think you should change it”.
“But sometimes”, Trevor begins, “I think my name means doom. I don’t know why, but I must change it if I want to not be afraid of what might happen to me in the future - does that make any sense?”. Trevor looks away feeling weird about how he explained it, now wanting to abort his sense of topic. Mrs. Nancy looks at him holds his hand and says, “No sweetie. You should love your name, give notice to your name, become friends with the power of your name, because once when you become an adult, and live life and have a job, you start to realize you’ll never remember your name again”.
When the class ended, Trevor walked out of class lightly, saying goodbye to Mrs. Nancy. He walked through the crowd of students; a few having cars to take them home, another taking the school bus, and another group walking back. Trevor on the other hand, took the city bus since he lived on the opposite side of town, and the bus stop was down the street, and if he wanted to get home fast he needed to hurry the moment class ended. But today, Trevor leveled with the rest of the students; as he walked out of the building and made his way to the crosswalk, as a man with an orange vest guided the students across the street, Trevor went down a neighborhood street, looked around making sure no one was near. He unzipped his backpack - and saw the gun he had packed this morning. With no sudden prints on it, yet, he zipped up his backpack feeling oddly at ease and continued walking. In this month of August, Trevor was sincerely wandering heavily in his mind, if ever, did he want to replace his name with something more suited to his liking. Trevor then thinks: maybe next year I’ll do it. He waits by the bus stop, feeling relaxed, and continues home feeling well pleased.
