The Best of Me(Treebros)

Chapter Seventeen: Tears

*Goes through the day*
Am I forgetting to do something? Mmmmm... Nah.

wAIT-

Evan's POV

Two months have past. Two months later and about 85 people have died.

Two months later, Kurt and Ram committed suicide.

Two months later, Veronica had gotten with JD and left them.

Two months later, Rich had set a fire to someone's house and is now in the hospital with Michael, who had unfortunately been brunt too.

Two months later, Jeremy was an asshole.

Two months later, Evan was not doing good.

His friends noticed this, and often asked his about what was wrong.

He dismissed the question.

He kept to himself. He barely spoke. Barely ate. He doesn't sleep.

Connor was most concerned about him. Evan knew that.

His boyfriend would come over to his house at times when he felt extra terrible. He had brought him snacks, cuddled with him, and made him feel better.

Evan didn't deserve him.

He quit the job at Starbucks, sometimes exchanging a word with Heather in the halls.

He felt alone. He started feeling as if he fell back to square one.

He felt like that day in Ellison Park. Where he fell.

No, where he let go.

He felt like the months where he would be beaten and insulted by Miguel.

He didn't like it.

And it was all because of one person.

Who were they? Evan didn't know. All he knew was that they didn't like him.

Evan wore long sleeves now. It was March, so nobody rose too much suspicion.

"I just get this feeling. Whenever you feel down, something is nagging inside of me to go comfort you," Connor had said.

"So like, telepathy?" Evan had guessed. Connor shrugged.

"It is what you want it to be."

So where was Connor now? Why isn't he here when Evan needed him?

Evan knew he was being way too dependent on his boyfriend. He was just hoping Connor would help bring a little bit of light.

Jeremy was rarely home anymore. Hanging out with his cool and popular friends.

Heidi was working with Paul.

So Evan was by himself again.

He cried. He cried hard. He cried into his pillow like he used to.

He never thought he'd be doing that again after he found friends and Connor.

He clutched his blankets.

A ding was heard.

Evan buried his face in his pillow. That ding kept repeating itself in his head. It was mocking him.

He reached over and grabbed his phone. Hesitantly, he lifted his head and read the notification.

Unknown: 2

Evan shakily placed it back on his nightstand.

What did the numbers mean?Why are they sending numbers?

Evan asked himself this question for the past three days. It started with five, going down a number everyday.

Someone burst in through the door.

Evan's heart suddenly froze. He tensed up, terrified.

Footsteps.

Fast footsteps.

"Evan!"

He turned around and cried out with relief. Connor ran to his side, hugging him.

Evan sat up and leaned into the touch. He cried into his boyfriend's shoulder.

Connor comforted him as Evan wetted his hoodie with tears.

"You're going to have to tell me what's wrong, baby."

Evan didn't respond.