Chapter 5: Reach Out Your Hand
Connor was one of the first people to exit the classroom as the bell signaled the end of 2nd period. Of all his classes, economics was his least favorite. He hated it even more than math. It's not that he didn't think economics was important, but when he sat in that class, nothing seemed to sink in. Having to tolerate Mr. Daniel's monotone for 45 minutes as he droned on about the laws of supply and demand really put dampers on an already boring subject. Besides, having economics for 2nd period was way too early in the day. So, when the bell rang, Connor just couldn't wait to get out of there.
On his way to his locker on the second floor, his long legs jumped two steps at a time down the staircase with ease. While balancing a spiral notebook and an economics textbook in his hand, his feet landed at the base of the stairs with a thump. Then, he just figured he had a little time to swing by Evan's locker before going to his own to drop off his textbook. Earlier that morning, Heidi had given Evan and Connor a ride to school. It was Evan's first day back since being released from the hospital and Connor promised Heidi he would lookout for Evan and make sure he was okay throughout the day. She thought maybe Evan should've stayed home one more day, but Evan said he was absolutely fine. Connor was on his way to check on Evan and chat a little before the next bell.
Evan and Connor found it frustrating that they didn't share any of the same classes this semester except for their free period and lunch. But next semester, they promised to coordinate their schedules, so they'll be in a few of the same classes. Evan had first period gym class, which wasn't too terrible considering he was sitting by himself on the sidelines – one of the advantages of a broken arm. No one bothered him as he sat on the bench at the side of the field. He watched the rest of the students in his class sweat and make efforts to participate in sports and was glad he wasn't one of them. His second period on a Monday schedule was Spanish, which Evan did fairly well in. He liked the soft, enthusiastic tone of Ms. Jimenez's voice whenever she spoke Spanish. Evan would go so far as to admit, but only privately, that he had developed a tiny crush on Ms. Jimenez since freshman year. In her class, Evan could conjugate verbs in Spanish all day. The time went quickly.
Evan took his time leaving the classroom, just so he could catch an extra glimpse of Ms. Jimenez to last him until Wednesday, when he had Spanish class again. He watched awkwardly as Ms. Jimenez closed her books and organized her papers on her desk as a flurry of students filed out of the room. He liked the way her thick curly dark hair bounced just below her shoulders. He felt a little airy when he walked into the hall, which could be because of his giddiness.
But as Evan made his way to his locker with his backpack in tow, that feeling started to change. In fact, everything started to change at that point. He wasn't sure if it was all in his head, or if it was really happening. He realized there was way too many people in the hallway – people, students with book bags and armloads of books were everywhere and coming at him in all directions. It was like he was standing still in the middle of a tornado of people whizzing by him. It was too crowded and there was no space to breathe. He felt someone brush his shoulder as he passed by. It probably wasn't anything personal, but he hated to be touched. He could feel the wind people brought behind them as they sped by. There were so many colors and designs that it hurt his eyes. Everything scrambled and meshed together. He closed his eyes, then opened them, hoping things would go back to normal. But instead, the aesthetics came back tenfold. The noise level was deafening. In his head, it was too loud – the talking, the shouting, the laughing, and the slamming of locker doors. His senses were on overload. Everything was making him feel anxious.
These people were taking up too much space, too much oxygen. He felt the air getting thinner and thinner. Suddenly, he felt a spot of fear burning in his gut. It was manifesting and slowing consuming his body limb by limb. His heart started beating a little harder and a little faster. An intense feeling of anxiety washed over him and he couldn't control it. He backed up against a row of lockers. His grip on his backpack loosened and it fell to the floor. He kept telling himself to inhale and exhale, to not make a scene, to calm the fuck down - but an overwhelming sense of dread and danger exploded out of nowhere and he suddenly couldn't breathe no matter how hard he tried. He felt hot and cold all of a sudden. His hands were tingling and clammy, yet he could feel sweat forming on his forehead. His face felt flushed, and his legs trembled, making it that much harder to remain standing. With his back against the lockers, he sank down to sit on the floor. His muscles tensed and he was starting to feel lightheaded from the lack of air. Evan was all too familiar with what was happening.
This was an onset of a panic attack. But this one was different. The symptoms were more pronounced than all the other ones he's had in the past. His heart was pounding so uncomfortably violent against his chest cavity that he thought it was going to burst. He suddenly questioned if he took his Lexapro and Ativan that morning and out of sheer panic, he really honestly couldn't remember whether or not he did. Perhaps being preoccupied with the excitement of going to school and the bustle of Monday morning, he had indeed forgotten to take his meds. His breathing became more labored and erratic. Between the convulsing tremors in his hand and casted arm, he tried to claw open his backpack to find the meds. He fumbled nervously with the zipper several times, but he just couldn't get his backpack to open.
He sat there on the floor hyperventilating, feeling so desperate and scared that tears started rolling down his face. He needed help, but he couldn't find his voice to cry out. He hung his head down closed his eyes to block out all the images and sounds that caused his sensory overload, all the while sobbing uncontrollably. When he opened his eyes, he saw a dozen feet attached to a dozen legs attached to a dozen bodies circling him.
Evan had drawn a small crowd. They were a mix of boys and girls staring at him quizzically like he was some sort of wounded animal which they couldn't decide whether or not to help. They seem to find him most curious sitting there on the floor, gasping for air and sobbing. They probably didn't approach because they didn't understand what was wrong with him – was this what a nervous breakdown looked like? Could whatever he had be contagious? They whispered amongst each other scrutinizing with furrowed brows trying to figure him out. Everyone was waiting for everyone else to make the first move and ask the boy on the floor if he was okay. Evan felt they were suffocating him with their presence, regardless of the distance they put between themselves and him. The walls closed in and claustrophobia stirred in his veins. His chest felt more and more constricted to the point where his lungs ached with each inhale.
Connor saw a group had gathered near a row of lockers as he rounded the corner. There were too many of them blocking the view for Connor to see what they were looking at. Connor usually didn't care much for high school drama, but it was rare for a commotion to ensue this early in the day. It piqued his interest, so he had to see what was going on. Students were all huddled in twos and threes murmuring to each other in hushed tones. As Connor got closer, he was able to see through the gaps of students that their attention was focused on a figure sitting on the floor. He caught a glimpse of a khaki pant leg and then a tan New Balance sneaker. His heart froze because he knew who it belonged to. Connor hurried passed the group of students to find Evan sitting with his back against the red lockers hyperventilating heavily and feverishly wiping away tears with his sleeve. The boy's face was now a shade of bright pink from crying and a lack of oxygen.
"Evan!" Connor rushed forward, dropped in front of Evan and sat on his heels. "W-why isn't anyone helping him?" He stammered looking up at the faces that surrounded them. Clearly, they watched but no one had approached Evan since all this happened. Connor placed his books down and turned back to Evan.
Evan recoiled when Connor tried to touch his shoulder. "Evan, it's okay. It's me. It's Connor." Connor saw the distraught look in Evan's eyes. But he seemed to ease up a little when he realized Connor was there.
"Tell me what's wrong." Connor said with worry. Evan opened his mouth to give a reply but only a whimper came out. He looked at Connor with a red face, pleading eyes and just continued choking on sobs, trembling, and clawing at the collar of his t-shirt. His nervous eyes darted around the semi-circle of people that had formed around him. His eyes came back to Connor and new tears streamed down his cheeks. "Stand back. Give him some space. Come on, people – stand back." Connor shouted to the onlookers.
Evan's shoulders were shaking now. "I can't, I can't…" He gasped, struggling to breathe.
"Okay. It's okay. Evan. Evan? Listen to me." Connor said slowly and as calmly as he could while looking into Evan's eyes. He saw that Evan was losing control and had trouble staying focused. Evan was quivering, but he managed to look at Connor when Connor placed a palm on his cheek.
"Did you take your medication today? No? Where are your pills?" Connor asked, only to get an urgent glassy-eyed stare and whimper from Evan. It was the helpless look that told Connor what he wanted to know. "Ok, are they in your backpack?" Connor didn't wait for an answer. He grabbed Evan's backpack and pulled the zipper open. Rummaging through the backpack, he pulled out a water bottle and placed it on the floor. Then he searched for the orange tinted prescription pill bottles of Lexapro and Ativan, which he found quickly.
Connor peeled open the caps of the pill bottles and poured out one pill from each. He put them in Evan's good hand, which was shaking so badly that Connor was afraid he would drop them. He watched Evan pop both pills into his mouth simultaneously. Connor flipped open the lid of the water bottle and gave it to Evan, who took it and swallowed down three gulps of water. When he was done, he placed the water bottle next to him on the floor.
"Are you better?" Connor asked Evan gently after a short moment. Evan was still excessively crying, and his breathing came out in heavy wheezes. His eyes swept apprehensively across the hall not really concentrating on anything or anyone in particular. He had pressed his good hand against his chest like as if it was causing him a large amount of pain. "Evan. Evan? Hey Evan…" Connor tried to get Evan to focus on him again. "Look at me. There you go. I need you to breathe. Slowly, in through your nose. Come on, you can do it. Out through your mouth. Try it again."
Evan tried to breathe but he couldn't maintain his train of thought. He was looking at Connor but then something in his mind snapped. "No-no-no-no-no." He mumbled incoherently. The sounds and imagines were overwhelming him. He squeezed his eyes shut but that did not stop the flow of tears streaming out of the corners of his eyes. He wanted air. He wanted escape. He wanted people to stop staring at him. He wanted all the noises to stop. The noises were so loud that it hurt his ears.
Sobbing loudly, he sat there with eyes tightly shut and both hands pressed to his ears. He whimpered and hung his head down trying to block out all the sounds. He was sucking in air rapidly with breathes coming out in pained grunts. He felt dizzy and weak. "Please-please-please…" He muttered desperately in between sobs. It was a truly heartbreaking sight.
Connor looked up and noticed everyone was still standing there watching on like as if it was some side show attraction. A fury grew and burned inside Connor. He knew what Evan wanted – for people to leave him alone, for the crowd to dissipate. They were sitting on the floor for at least ten minutes and it infuriated Connor that during this whole time, no one had offered to help. No one reached out to see what was wrong. No one. They all just whispered and watched. Connor glanced at Evan, who still had his hands pressed to his ears and crying uncontrollably. The anger surfaced and all Connor saw was red. No human being should be treated this way. It was cruel. He spun around with an unimaginable sense of rage.
"GET LOST! ALL OF YOU!" Connor growled angrily. "What the hell are all of you staring at? Has anyone bothered to ask if he was okay? The least anyone could've done was get the school nurse. Has anyone done that? No, because none of you fucking care! There's nothing more to see here. GO ON, LEAVE." He was standing up now. His face was etched with hatred. His eyes were orbs of fire shooting daggers at anyone who was brave enough to look at him. At that moment he could've put a fist through the wall.
If anyone was not aware of Connor's anger issues, they were aware of it now. Connor was docile and indifferent most of the time, but when things got him riled up, his anger came in with a vengeance. The crowd took a step back at Connor's outburst.
"HEY! I SAID GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! WHAT PART OF THAT DON'T YOU ASSHOLES UNDERSTAND? GO AWAY. LEAVE US ALONE!" Connor's voice thundered when he felt they weren't taking him seriously. He was very intimidating when he was angry. It was part of the reason why people avoided him. They didn't want to stir up a hornet's nest. His voice echoed and bounced off the halls in a way that meant business. Eventually, everyone scattered, and the halls thinned out. It could've been due to the late bell ringing or the wrath of Connor's overall threatening appearance, either way, Connor got what he wanted. He came back to where Evan sat and took a seat next to him against the lockers.
"They're gone you know." Connor said mildly after a few seconds. "It's okay now. They won't bother you anymore, not if I can help it anyway."
Evan had arms wrapped around the top of his knees and face buried in those arms. Connor could still hear him sobbing. "Connor-Connor-Connor-Connor-Connor…" Evan kept repeating as he rocked back and forth. It was like a mantra to help him refocus and make the madness to go away.
"Evan, you're okay." Connor's voice was tender.
"I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I wanna die. I wanna die. I wanna die." Evan whimpered softly as he kept slapping his forehead with the heel of his right palm.
"Hey, hey. Don't do that." Connor grabbed a hold of Evan's wrist to stop him from further beating himself up.
"I'm stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I wanna die. I just wanna die. I need to die. Why can't I just die?" Evan whined tearfully, biting back words he didn't want to say out loud, but it came out, nonetheless.
"No Evan, you don't mean that. I know you don't mean it. That's not you talking. It's the anxiety talking. You have everything to live for. So much to live for. This was just a bad moment. A really bad moment." Hearing those bitter words come out of Evan's mouth didn't faze Connor. He had done quite a lot of researching on panic attacks – a bit out of curiosity, but mostly out of the need to understand what Evan was going through.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Evan blubbered. "I'm such a freak. I've scared everyone away."
"It wasn't you. That was my doing. I scared them all away. Figured you could use some space." Connor smiled. "But hey, I'm still here. And I'll always be here." He leaned back against the locker, like as if sitting on the floor in an empty hallway was the coolest thing to do.
They sat like that for the next minute and Evan's breathing seemed to even out slightly. At least he wasn't hyperventilating anymore. A few stray tears were still falling from his eyes. He was no longer sweating but was left with a shivering chill that shook his entire body.
"Evan look at me." Connor finally said. Evan raised his head and looked at Connor with puffy eyes.
"Just breathe. I know it's hard, but you have to try. In through your nose, out through your mouth." Connor reached out hesitantly and placed a gentle hand on Evan's shoulder to let him know that he's not alone. "Okay?"
Evan nodded and focused on breathing. His breathes quivered, but he was trying. "Are you cold?" Connor asked, noting the trembling. Evan nodded again. His teeth were chattering slightly. Connor then shed off his parka and draped it across Evan's shoulders. It was convenient that Connor wore too many layers than necessary, he still had a hoodie and t-shirt underneath. "There. Better?" Connor said while adjusting the collar. Evan responded with another nod.
"Boys? Is everything ok here?" A pleasantly calm voice said. Evan and Connor looked up to find the petite figure of Mrs. Henderson, the school nurse. She looked very spiffy in a baby blue cardigan and grey slacks with a comfortable pair of white Crocs. Her short dark brown hair was swept back with a hairband.
If there was one word to describe Mrs. Henderson, it would be diligence. She was the type of woman that just about everyone in the school respected. There was a motherly quality about her that resonated in her work as a nurse. She took great care of all her students that came into her office. No ailment was too small - that would've been her motto if she had one. Having worked at the school for the last twelve years, there wasn't a case that she hadn't encountered. It came with the experience.
"Mark Evan Hansen?" Mrs. Henderson looked at Evan. She sounded affable and compassionate.
"No." Evan said as he looked up to meet Mrs. Henderson's kind eyes. "There's no Mark. It's just Evan." He corrected softly. No one ever called him by the first name even though it's on all the official records.
"Right then, Evan. Someone said there was a young man that needed my help. Are you alright?" Mrs. Henderson spoke warmly. Connor was surprised that someone actually notified the school nurse. Perhaps, he'd been wrong about people at school having no heart.
"Evan had a very bad panic attack." Connor jumped in.
"I see." Mrs. Henderson nodded.
"He's been sick. He was in the hospital last week." Connor explained.
"Oh yes, I'm aware. Seizure, was it?" Mrs. Henderson replied, smiling a little at Evan. Her question sounded more like a statement. Apparently, she was not only diligent, but she was also efficient and up to date. Evan nodded his tearstained face at her.
"Do you want to rest in my office? Yea? Ok, think you can stand up?" Mrs. Henderson coached. Evan shot a nervous glance at Connor. "It's okay. Your friend can come with you." Connor studied Mrs. Henderson's body language. She kept her distance close but not too close – only close enough if Evan needed a hand. As much as she wanted to take Evan under her wing, she knew not to touch him. Panic attacks are tricky, especially with people who have anxiety disorders. He may not respond well to a stranger's touch.
"That's C-Connor." Evan said. Still with Connor's jacket draped across his shoulders, he got up carefully from the floor. His knees were a little wobbly, but he didn't embarrass himself further by falling back down. Connor steadied him.
"Well, Connor will be right by you." Mrs. Henderson reassured Evan. She turned to Connor and said, "People who've just suffered a panic attack need to be surrounded by familiarity. He sees you as a safe place and he needs that comfort right now."
Connor was only slightly shocked that she didn't just shoo him off to class and tell him that she could handle it from here. But if she felt Connor needed to be there for Evan, then she was probably right. In fact, she was always right. The amazing thing about Mrs. Henderson was that she always knew exactly what the student needed. Connor collected all their things off the floor and stopped Evan when he tried to pick up his backpack. Connor picked the bag up and swung the shoulder strap through an arm. This act of kindness earned a gratifying smile from Mrs. Henderson.
They took the special elevator up to the 4th floor and entered the door labeled "Medical" in seriously bold print. Mrs. Henderson made Evan lie down on the couch in the inner office, which was quieter and more private. She then drew the blinds closed so only a small light was coming in from the windows. She asked Evan if he needed anything, and he shook his head. He looked extremely exhausted and was still shivering lightly. Mrs. Henderson retrieved a folded blanket from the hall closet. She figured she could let Connor have his jacket back, but Evan clutched it around his shoulders and refused to let go. Mrs. Henderson didn't object and instead, pulled the blanket over the jacket. She didn't think it was weird that Evan found a sudden attachment to the jacket. It made him feel safe and that was alright. Connor placed Evan's backpack on a chair across from the couch.
"Go on, close your eyes and take a nap." Mrs. Henderson advised Evan, who was reluctant. "It's okay. You're safe here. I'll close the door so you can have some quiet time. I'll just be right out there at my desk if you need anything." Her sympathetic smile was reassuring. "Do you want Connor to sit with you a while?" Evan just looked at Mrs. Henderson with big longing eyes. "I'll let Connor stay here until you fall asleep, okay?"
"Please, don't send me home." Evan insisted. "I'm f-fine."
"You can stay here as long as you need." Mrs. Henderson said.
"Don't tell my mom." Evan pleaded.
"Evan, you'll feel better after you've taken a nap. I promise. Connor's going to step outside for just a second. I have to give him a late pass for his next class, okay?"
"Mm, 'k." Evan mumbled tiredly. He watched Mrs. Henderson and Connor walk out of the room.
Mrs. Henderson was multi-tasking. She fished through her desk drawer and found the late passes. As she was doing this, she had cradled the phone between her chin and shoulders while dialing a number she found on her computer screen with her other hand. "Hmmm, looks like the only number I have on file is a work number. I'll have to ask Mrs. Hansen for her cell number for emergencies later." She spoke to herself. As she waited for someone on the other line to pick up, she scribbled something on a late pass and gave it to Connor.
"Ah yes, this is Mrs. Amanda Henderson, school nurse, calling from Westview High School. Can you connect me to Mrs. Heidi Hansen, please?" Mrs. Henderson said into the receiver. "Yes, I'll hold."
"I thought you weren't going to tell Evan's mom?" Connor was puzzled.
"It's my job to advise the parent or legal guardian of any student who's had anything more than a scraped knee or that I deem serious enough to make a call. Normally, I would've let this slide. But I've read Evan's medical file and I feel his mom should have a right to know what happened, even if I'm not sending him home today. It's school policy." She explained then retracted with a laugh, "Well, my policy anyway." She motioned for Connor to go sit with Evan while she spoke on the phone.
Evan was not asleep yet when Connor returned to the semi-darkened room. Seemed like maybe he was, in a way, waiting for Connor. He was snug under the covers and resting a cheek on a pillow cushion. Connor took a seat next to Evan's backpack.
"You should try and get some sleep. You look totally wiped out." Connor said.
"Panic attacks tends to do that." Evan replied. He sounded more in control now.
"You look a little better. How do you feel?"
"OK, I guess. My heart's still pounding pretty hard. Feels like it wants to jump out of my chest."
"Breathe and try to think relaxing thoughts." Connor advised. "Um, I know! Think trees! That always seems to be your comfort zone." He added humorously. This prompted a giggle from Evan.
"Just…" Evan began reluctantly. "Well, nothing. Nevermind."
"Just what?" Connor said curiously. "Evan, you can tell me anything. I know you trust me."
"Just – thank you. For being a great friend." Evan said. "I've never had a friend like you."
"Oh that." Connor laughed. "Well, you're a great friend too."
"No, I don't think I've been that great. I keep pushing you away and yet, you're still here. I don't even know why."
"Evan, you're worth saving. We're both worth saving." Connor said. "Our friendship goes beyond. I think the bond we share is in our history and our darkness. We have a darkness in us that probably no one else understands. We're kinda like two lost souls that somehow found each other in a world of chaos."
"I'm glad we're friends."
"Best friends, always." Connor said and Evan smiled. "Besides, you've done more for me than you know. You forget that you saved my life. It's because of you that I'm here." He hated getting emotional and just as he was starting to, he changed the subject. "Your mom wants to take us to the IHOP for pancakes on Saturday. I'm actually looking forward to it. I've never been to an IHOP."
"Oh, you've gonna love it. They have the most amazing blueberry pancakes, practically stacked up to your nose." Evan said. "Mom thinks I'm not eating enough."
"To be honest, that's kinda true."
"She also thinks that if you're with us, I'll eat more. I don't know." Evan yawned.
"Well, breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Connor shrugged. "Okay, you'd better be asleep by the time Mrs. Henderson comes back or else she's gonna kick me out for keeping you awake."
"No, she won't. She's an angel." Evan's mind was so tired he had no idea what he was saying.
"Oooh, crushing on her now, are we?" Connor teased with a devilish grin.
"Huh? NO! Well, maybe. I don't know." Evan retorted groggily, causing Connor to laugh. Evan yawned deeply again. He made a gesture towards Connor's jacket that was still draped across his shoulders under the blanket.
"It's okay, keep it for now. You can return it to me later." Connor said.
"Thank you, Connor." Evan mumbled.
"Don't mention it." Connor replied and with that, Evan's tired eyes started to blink to a close.
The room was nice, quiet, dark, and calming. The couch was as comfortable a couch could be, and the blanket was remarkably soft against his skin and smelt like lavender. Connor's parka was a wad of fabric that felt really broken into, like as if Connor had worn it to the point where it was like a second skin. To Evan, it gave him an odd sense of security and he couldn't let go of it. It also served as an anchor - knowing that he was able to physically feel it with his hands kept his head grounded. But the one thing that he found most comforting of all was Connor's presence.
There was a good reason for this. There was love in their friendship, but not of the romantic sort. It had never been about that. To be fair, it was an affection of a different nature. They felt an intuitive bond, like maybe something blood brothers or maybe even twin brothers might share. Evan's life had always been about transient people. No one ever stayed in his life too long. People showed up and just when he thought they were becoming permanent fixtures in his life, they leave. They don't give warning, they just leave and drift farther away. It left Evan feeling deserted and unimportant. And from those learned moments, he decided to never let his guard down – to never let his heart get attached to someone for fear that one day that person will turn out just like the rest. They weren't going to be around forever. He never expected much from anyone thereafter. There remained no constant person in his life - the one person who was always there for him, especially in his greatest time of emotional need – until Connor.
As soon as Evan's big doe eyes drooped to a close, his eyes shot open again. And each time he opened them, he found Connor still there staring back at him. Maybe he was afraid that Connor was going to disappear just like all the others. Evan wanted Connor to stay with him – to be his moral support, to be his safety net, because God knows he was scared out of his mind. But somehow, he couldn't find it in himself to make the request and just ask Connor to stay. He didn't want to appear needy and spineless in front of his best friend and in front of Mrs. Henderson, of all people. What would they think of him? A seventeen-year-old baby? That would be humiliating.
Evan was struggling to stay awake but was miserably losing the fight. He did this several times until Connor finally said, "I'm still here. Not going anywhere until you're asleep. Go on, sleep. I'll see you later. Promise."
Connor's word was as good as golden and Evan trusted Connor. He trusted him with his life and when Connor promised something, he always delivered. It was not in his character to fall back on a promise however big or small. Eventually, Evan was overcome by the powerful draw of sleep. Panic attacks often left Evan beyond exhaustion. Whenever he had them, they were always bad and rendered him debilitated and drained. Connor sat there and observed the even rise and fall of Evan's chest to indicate that he was truly asleep. He gathered his books and slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Mrs. Henderson looked up from her desk when she saw Connor walk through. She gave Connor a warm smile and assured him that Evan was in good hands. She expressed how admirable it was of Connor to deescalate a situation that could've taken an awful turn for Evan's health. In Evan's fragile condition, the stress could've led to another seizure. Mrs. Henderson added that Evan was really lucky to have such a kindhearted friend like Connor. The compliment made him blush deeply and put him in a pretty decent mood the rest of the day.
Evan surprised Connor after the last period of the day by waiting for him in front of his locker. Evan was leaning against Connor's locker with the jacket in the crook of his good arm.
"Thought I'd return your jacket." Evan said while handing the parka to Connor.
"Great. Thanks." Connor said as he put it on, not caring that it was like 80 degrees outside. Evan always wondered why Connor liked to layer on so many clothes. "You feeling okay?"
"Yea, I guess. I mean, I did sleep through most of the school day. Just a little groggy, but much better." Evan admitted. "Mrs. Henderson ratted me out. I got a call from my mom asking me about the panic attack and why I didn't take my meds this morning."
"Don't look so upset. Mrs. Henderson was just doing her job – and exceptionally well at that might I add. Very responsible."
"Huh. Now look who's crushing on her." Evan pestered humorously.
"She IS kinda hot….for a school nurse." Connor said after a moment's thought.
"You're crazy!" Evan exclaimed.
"Am I really though?" Connor taunted with a comical look on his face. "She gave me a compliment. Proves I'm not the psychopath monster everyone thinks I am."
"I wish you'd stop saying that. You've never been a monster or a psychopath….j-just extremely misunderstood and stereotyped." Evan said earnestly.
"Don't be so serious. I'm only kidding." Connor sighed. "Besides, my chances with Mrs. Henderson are close to none. You have her eating out of your hand, being sick and all. How can I compete with that?" He teased.
"Hmm, I can't really argue with you there. I actually have the upper hand on this one. Thanks to my declining health." Evan quipped smartly.
"Evan! Did you just make a joke?" Connor gasped in jest. Evan laughed at Connor's charismatic response.
"I'm just sayin'." Evan shrugged playfully.
Connor grinned as he swapped books in his locker and placed it in his book bag. "So, you feel like hanging out or do you just want to go home? I figured you had a tough day. Maybe you're still tired."
"I'm okay, but mom wants me home early today. She's worried if I keep pushing myself too hard, I'll end up in the hospital again."
"She's got a point."
"But home's boring."
"Ok, here's a suggestion. We stop somewhere briefly to get a snack, then we go back to your place and fire up your Nintendo Switch." Connor proposed. "Technically, you'll be home early, and it won't be boring."
"That could work. I don't think mom will have a problem with that. But I don't think I'm up for Gino's. My nerves are just shot to hell. Gino's is too – way too…." Evan trailed off.
"You don't have to explain. I get it." Connor interjected with consideration. "We don't have to go to Gino's. Actually, I know another better place."
"Oh? What do you have in mind?" Evan asked inquisitively.
"Well, I know under the current circumstances, you'd prefer a place with a much quieter atmosphere. I know a place that's a bit further out, but they have an excellent selection. It's usually not crowded at this hour and most people do take away." Connor said enthusiastically. "I don't think it's a place you've been to. What do you think about ice cream?"
"I love ice cream." Evan said, a little astonished.
"There's this ice cream place my family and I used to go on the way to the orchard. It's called A La Mode. They make the most delicious ice cream. My mom's favorite was the homemade hot fudge. I thought we could go grab a scoop or two at A La Mode. How about it?"
"Sure, okay. I'd like that."
"You're going to really like this place. I'm telling you, they create new flavors every so often, and it's always delicious. You can go with the basics, but my favorite flavor is the bananas foster ice cream. I know how it sounds but don't knock it until you've tried it. Mom used to say, "ice cream makes everything better." And I believe it. I mean, it doesn't solve all the problems obviously, but it does have an unusual power of giving happiness when needed." Connor rambled excitedly as he slammed his locker door shut.
"Comfort food for the soul." Evan commented. "I think we need that today. I don't know…maybe every day." They laughed as they headed out the school's exit doors.
The distance between the school and A La Mode was a good 15 minutes on the north bus. The boys got off five stops before it reached the abandoned Autumn Smile Apple Orchard. This brought them one block away from the famous A La Mode Ice Cream Shop. They could see the signature round metal tables with the whimsical sun umbrellas dotting the front of the establishment from afar. Evan and Connor merrily sauntered through the glass doors, where they were greeted with the sweet scent of chocolate coming from the back and the cool air from the freezers pleasantly pricking their skin. Display freezers with curved sliding glass tops containing a blissful array of ice cream flavors lined the length of the shop. It took the boys a while to look through all the offerings and make their final decisions. And there, they treated themselves to a much-needed serving of happiness - Connor: Bananas Foster, and Evan: Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. But the most important thing above all was sharing a picture-perfect afternoon sitting under one of those cheesy whimsical umbrella tables enjoying scoops of ice cream and shooting the breeze like buddies do.
End of Chapter 5
AN: I think we can go for a little bit more Evan whump before I wrap this fic up … coming in the next chapter.