Treebros Fanfiction

13

(Evans POV) 

Halloween happens to take place on a Saturday this year. This is good for many reasons, including but not limited to the fact that our school can't host a costume contest! They like to do that. It boosts school spirit or something, I don't know. Also, back in the day when trick or treating was still a cool thing to do, Halloween being on a weekend meant we didn't have to worry about staying up too late. That doesn't really matter now. 

Enjoying my freshly free arm- I got the cast off a few days ago- I pull my shoes on using both my hands. I'm gonna go meet Connor at his work and then we're gonna hang out. 

I asked for the address of the gym a few days ago so that I would have enough time to plan out how I would get there and how long it would take so that I knew exactly when to leave so I could arrive on time, but not too on time that it would seem like I was super excited to hang out with him, but also not too late that it would seem like I didn't want to hang out with him at all. 

So, knowing that it would take me twenty minutes to get there, I leave my house at 3:43. Connor told me that he was done with work at 4:00, and I will arrive at 4:03. Not keeping him waiting, but not too excited.

When I get there, though, things are still happening. There's still a bunch of kids running around.

"Yeah, their parents are always late," Connor explains when I mention it. 

A small girl in a princess dress approaches us, nylon fairy wings bouncing with each step. She looks up at me and shakes her head, disappointment radiating from her.

"You're not wearing a costume either," she sighs. "Gosh." 

"O-oh, I'm sorry," I apologize, a little confused. "I didn't realize there was a dress code." 

She rolls her eyes, blinking slowly at me. "It's Halloween, of course there's a dress code." 

Honestly, I just can't get over her tiny little speech impediment. There's still a hint of a 'w' where all of her 'r's should be.

"Megan, why are you talking to strangers?" Connor asks her, trying to divert her judgment.

She crosses her arms and stomps her foot. "You're talking to him." 

He crosses his own arms in turn, head condescendingly cocked to the side. "I'm a grown up. I can talk to whoever I want." 

"Yeah? Well, guess what!" 

"What?" 

"I'm a fairy princess," faiwy pwincess, "which means I'm in charge." 

"Oh, Princess Megan, did no one tell you? In gymnastics class, teacher ranks higher than princess." He gives her a sympathetic little shrug. "Sorry." 

She glares at him, then whirls around and runs toward the teacher- probably to ask if teacher actually ranks higher than princess. The woman looks over at us, sees me, then shoos Connor away with a wave of her hand.

"That means we can leave." Without even giving me a chance to react, he strides toward the door, hand dipping into his pocket to fish out his car keys.

I rush after him, struggling to keep up with his tall person pace. He slides gracefully into the driver's seat, and I tumble through the passenger side door.

My coordination is... Well, it's not great. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at it.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, tossing it carelessly onto the center console.