Treebros Fanfiction

10

(Evan's POV) 

I tap my fingers nervously on the plastic windowsill on the car door, not liking how fast we're moving. Connor doesn't seem to mind, as he's doing almost the exact same thing- drumming his long fingers on the steering wheel as he glares at the road. Maybe he's not glaring; maybe that's just his face.

Either way, I don't dare ask him if he could ease up on the gas just a tiny bit. In fact, neither of us speak for a good long while. I don't even know where we're going.

Oh my God, what if that's the point? What if he's mad about my date with Zoe and now he's taking me out to a secluded spot in the middle of nowhere to kill me and hide my body where no one will ever find it? No one will know what happened- 

No, scratch that. Cynthia knows I'm with him.

"Where, um, where are we going?" I manage to choke out.

He glances sideways at me. I wish he wouldn't. I wish he'd just keep his eyes on the road. "An orchard." 

Oh, well that sounds nice.

Unless orchard is, like, drug dealer slang for a really shady place where all the scary high people hang out and shoot up or something. I don't know much about drugs.

"You like trees, don't you?" he asks when I continue to not say anything.

"Oh, yeah, yep, love 'em," I ramble, nodding. "Y'know, I worked with them- with trees, I mean. Over the summer? At, um, Ellison State Park. That's how I broke my arm, actually, I fell out of one... Uhhh, Zoe says you have a job? What- what do you, um... do?" 

He doesn't look at me this time- thank God. "I'm a gymnastics coach's assistant. I, uh, make sure all the kids take their shoes off, I get things from off of high shelves... " 

"They let you be around little kids?" I ask incredulously.

I'm sure you don't need to be told this, but I'm really fucking stupid.

I don't even know why I said that, it just slipped out. I'm already apologizing before he can even answer the question.

"Oh my God, I am so, so sorry! I don't know why I- I didn't mean that-" 

"Yeah, they let me be around little kids," he spits out, tightening his grip on the wheel. "Is that a new rumor? That I touch kids? 'Cause I haven't heard that one, yet."

"No, no!" I assure him. "No, no one's saying that. I just meant- b-because you can sometimes be violent-" 

"Yeah, gotcha." He finally starts slowing down. "We're here." 

I was kind of thinking that 'here' would look more like a place we're allowed to be. Instead, we're greeted with a very harsh looking 'CLOSED' sign and a fenced off field.

Connor stops the car and gets out, staring at me expectantly when I make no move to follow.

"I-it's closed," I observe, pointing helpfully at the sign.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I come here. Get out." 

In an effort to avoid incurring his wrath, I hastily unbuckle my seatbelt and practically fall out of the car. Once all the doors are shut, he locks the car and ducks under the orchard's gate. I follow him out to the middle of a great yellow field, still fully thriving despite the impending threat of autumn. 

Obviously, there are a lot of trees. I would be tempted to run toward them, to identify them, to try to climb them, but now I don't have a great history with trees. Honestly, I feel like I've disrespected them somehow with my fall.