Burnouts

The Aftertaste of Reconcilation

Scene 1: Evan's House

Zach Teeling

I didn't call to see if he was home...

Maybe his aunt's here and I can talk to her instead since we seem to do this thing where we'll talk to the other's guardian but completely ignore each other.

I only want to make sure he's not feeling alone.

My hand begins to freeze as soon as I take it out of my coat pocket. I knock hard on the door, hoping someone will hear me the first time.

Evan opens it, looking as if he's wearing what he slept in last night.

"Hey."

"Zach..." he says as if he can barely recognize me anymore.

"Yeah, I was just in the neighborhood-" I sigh, "no, I wasn't, I came here on purpose."

He smiles, "that's okay."

"I wanted to know if you were feeling alright. You know, since school and everything."

Evan shrugs, "I'm fine."

"Good," I nod and start backing away, "that's good, I was just wondering."

"You can come in if you want."

"In?"

"Only if you want to."

"Yeah," I walk up to him again, "sure."

I take off my shoes as soon as I step through the door, they're still damp with melted snow.

"Do you want some ice cream?" Evan asks as he heads toward the kitchen.

"Yeah, why not? It's only 30 degrees outside."

"Never too cold for ice cream." He grabbed two bowls out of a cabinet and a tub of vanilla bean ice cream from the freezer.

Evan pulls open a drawer of silverware, and I hear him chuckle.

"Are the forks telling jokes now, Evan?"

He shows me a spoon that's bent at the neck, "I've used it to scoop ice cream so much that it lost its shape. Now none of us are straight."

I press my lips together to try and keep from laughing. "You're so dumb." He smiles at me and I end up laughing anyway. "You and your gay spoon."

"Gay ice cream scooper."

It's bent because he doesn't let the ice cream soften first. The difference between us and that spoon is that we prefer things hard, apparently.

"I'm sorry you had to come out before you were ready to. That's tough."

"I'm sorry I hit you. That let off a bad chain of events, didn't it?"

"I feel like there were steps before that led to this..."

"Probably," he nods, "but your face really hurt my hand."

"Oh, I hurt you?"

"You kept yelling at me to hit you. I thought— damn, we did not go far enough for me to know you have a thing for pain."

And here I am trying and failing not to laugh at your stupid jokes.

Evan laughs too— Evan laughed first...and I almost forgot it was cold outside.

"I'm glad you're laughing at this now." I'm just glad you're laughing.

"It's only funny because we're talking about it together. In the moment, I hated myself," he admits.