13 (evans wild ride to turning 16)

Chapter 11 (Brett)

AN: idk how to write a phone call or a fight so idc if you hate it. sorry this chapter took a couple days ive had a lot of stuff going on

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I caught Patrice as she fell backwards, Richies parents looked like they'd just seen someone die.

Immediately panic erupted in the entire room. People were rushing over to us and 911 was already on the line. Somebody took her and moved her to a sofa.

Richie was starting at his parents as they stood shoulder to shoulder, looking horrified at the girl who had just fainted.

"She has umm..." he tried to make an excuse "narcolepsy or something." He was so stupid. His parents definitely didn't hear him.

I should've known something was wrong back in the car. She looked a bit shell shocked when I picked her up, I'd assumed it was just nerves about meeting Richies parents. They were pretty scary, even I could admit that.

"Richie," I looked over at him "we gotta call Evan." The number that Patrice had texted me through earlier, was absolutely his. It was well known through school that she had family issues, back in middle school I was a big jerk and made fun of her for it.

I'd pieced together after the night before that she probably stayed at Evans when things were bad at home. I knew that because I'd been doing the same thing with Richie for a while.

"No!" Richie had a visibly disgusted look on his face. "That guy is terrible to her."

"What?" I shook my head.

"Yeah!" His eyes were super wide and he shook his head back at me. "I heard him yelling at her this morning in the music room, and we both saw him take her phone last night!" Okay, just another reason for me to hate Evan Goldman. When I'd spoken with them that morning I picked up a weird vibe from the guy, but brushed it off as my hatred for him.

"That doesn't matter right now dude, we need to call him." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and threw it at him. He caught it but then he threw it back at me.

"No Brett." He pointed at me "You need to call him." I mean he was right, I had his number in my phone. Even though he was trying to be all dramatic I would've ended up dialing the number anyway.

Pressing the call button on Evans number felt like of those slow motion scenes in an action movie. Richie was over my shoulder, breathing a little to heavily in my ear. People were doting to a passed out girl on the sofa. My index finger slowly pressed down on the phone button.

It took about 40 seconds of ringing until he answered the phone. At first it was total silence.

"Patrice passed out, we need you to come over to Richies house." I didnt want to make casual conversation, so I got straight to the point.

"What!" He yelled through the phone, which made me pull it away from my ear a bit . "What happened!"

"I don't really know man. One second she was standing the next she was out" I needed this conversation to be short. Richie was still over my shoulder listening to the phone.

I heard Evan sigh through the phone. To my side I watched as the paramedics arrived through the window.

"Send me the address." He said then abruptly hung up the phone. Wow, he had such a way with words. I texted him the address. 13 Sparkleberry Lane.

Richie and I walked outside of the house, away from all the chaos. Evan's house was only 9 minutes away, hopefully he would drive fast. We sat down on the steps in front of the door. I watched as Richie loosened his tie then I leaned my head back.

There was a windy chill in the air that made the leaves on the trees move. The noise was calming, so I closed my eyes and listened for a moment. I thought that maybe if I kept my eyes closed, I could pretend to pass out like Patrice. She definitely had it bad, but at least she wasn't conscious to deal with the chaos.

Hopefully she didn't have anything actually medically wrong. That would be bad. I'd always wondered where her family got their money from. The fact that her mom was a dead beat and her dad was out of the picture was well known around the town. Her and her older brother had to fend for themselves, which couldn't have been easy. People were mean about it.

After about 7 minutes I heard a car pull up in the driveway. It was the same blue car I had followed for 15 minutes yesterday. Evans car. Richie and I sat up as he got out of the car. Evan looked mad. He started to walk over to us and I walked towards him as well.

"Hey Evan I can't believe this is-" I started to say, before his fist collided with my face. I fell backwards just like Patrice had earlier, instant pain. He hit me in the face again once I hit the ground. Then kicked me in the leg, and punched me a third time in the nose. This was karma in the worst way possible for punching him in 7th grade.

"Stop it!" Richie screamed and pulled Evan off of me. I couldn't feel my face, and my leg was throbbing. I wiped blood away from my nose, then used my arm to prop myself up.

Richie and Evan had started a brawl. They both had a hold of the other's shoulders and were beating each other on the lawn. Richie pinned him down to the ground then began to punch his face. Evan rolled them around and kneed Richie in the side. Richie grabbed Evans face and started to claw at him.

"Somebody help!" I called out for help. They were going to kill each other if no one stopped them. I attempted to get up to limp my way to the door. They wouldn't listen to me, it would only make things worse.

I hobbled my way to all the way across the lawn to the house, it felt like a mile. The door was thankfully still open from when we had come outside. The front room was crowded with paramedics and people. All attention shifted to me when I walked in.

"Help, please." I yelled at everyone. "Richie and Evan are tearing each other apart it's nasty." Richies parents ran straight out the door, and a few other adults followed. I dropped to the ground, my leg couldn't hold me up anymore.

People rushed over to me, luckily the paramedics were still there. They asked me to explain what had happened. I told them that the boy out there was Patrice's boyfriend, and he didn't like us.

I wondered if they would have to be spoken to by the police. Richie would definitely be moving in with his parents, everything had turned to disaster. When I looked up, Patrice was still passed out on the sofa.

Part of me wished I could pass out like her still. She had no idea of everything that was going on, how lucky. A gurney was brought in for me to lay on. Two people helped me get up and lay down. If my leg was broken, I'd be out for the rest of football for the entire next season. My dad would call me irresponsible, tell me that my future was ruined, say that I was a disgrace. I wouldn't even care, I would celebrate in fact.

Football ruled my life, for once there was a good excuse to get me out of it. I would have to spend the summer healing, which would mean I would miss all of training. If I missed training then I couldn't be on the team. I had never been happier about being in immense pain.