War in Broadway High

22. Be My Lover, I'll Cover You

Chapter 22: Be My Lover, I'll Cover You

Evan.

"This won't hurt," the doctor said, holding a saw.

Not exactly the kind of image you ever wanted to be faced with. The electrical whirr of the instrument resonated loudly in Evan's ears.

And yet, the anxiety he felt coursing through his veins wasn't so much about getting his cast taken off, but rather how scrutinizing he considered the doctor's eyes to be, wondering what judgments she might be forming in her mind about him. His social anxiety hadn't been so bad lately, but it refused to go away completely, even with the medication. In fact, maybe the meds weren't really doing anything after all.

Either way, the cast removal was a fairly straightforward process, and it wasn't painful like he'd feared for a moment there. Finally, he was free, and hopefully could put behind him everything that had led him to that fall from the tree that day...

They directed him back to the waiting room. His mom was supposed to sign some papers before he could leave, but she was running late, because they were really short-staffed at the hospital, apparently. Taco Tuesday was off again. Nothing new, unfortunately. Evan wished he was 18 and able to sign the papers himself to just leave. For now, he was resigned to wait. He felt people's gazes on him, so to ignore it, he chose to glue his eyes to his phone screen.

He didn't expect to find a notification from Connor there, a text sent just a few minutes ago. His heart began racing, but not with anxiety this time. It was more like it was fluttering in his chest as he read:

'did they go too deep and cut off ur arm?'

A smile climbed to his face, and he didn't take too long to reply.

'Yes. I'm writing one-handed now.'

'ohmygod when did u learn sarcasm?
i'm scared'

'You are the bad influence.'

'Wow
now i'm reconsidering my invite.'

This time Evan's reply was instant, eager.

'Invite?'

'u got that weird-ass lunch with Rich's dad on Saturday, right?'

'It's not that weird. But yes.'

'i got my sister to lend me her car, don't ask how.
how about after ur thing we drive to the apple orchard?
we could spend the day there, get ice cream or whatever
a picnic, maybe?'

Evan's hands were shaking as he read that, feeling a mixture of excitement and queasiness. Was this what people called butterflies in their stomach? It felt more like nausea to him. But in a sort of good way. It took him forever to gather the courage to say what he wanted to next.

'Is this
a date?'

'it's not not a date.'

'I'd like that.'

'come by my house at 3?'

'Will do!'

'see ya, Hansen'

Evan kept staring at the screen of their messages for a while after that.

Connor.

He was a little surprised, by 3.15 on Saturday. He'd figured Hansen was the type to be extremely punctual, and would be there at 3 o'clock sharp. While waiting inside the parked car, he started thinking maybe he'd misjudged the guy.