Posted Five Minutes Ago [TreeBros/Cevan]

~The Call~

Evan's POV

Winter break seemed like a lifetime away despite only ending the week prior, and it seemed as though all my troubles associated with education that had just started to dwindle away all came rushing back at once. I had messaged Connor for the first time since he left for his vacation yesterday, which meant I had been silent for several days. I had no energy to even pull up our thread, but leaving him in the dark was equally tiring, so I couldn't win. Our friendship is built on the fact we tell each other everything, and not being able to explain that I wasn't doing very well and worrying about it was exhausting. When I did finally send a message, I was pretty vague about what was happening and got straight to the point- planning our phone call. 

I didn't know how to feel. On one hand, excited to put a voice to the words he's silently spoken to me and excited to talk to him in real time. However, I was also incredibly nervous. There's something about talking on the phone that I just don't like. In those moments where the phone is ringing, I'm the most tense, but that's not to say every moment after is much easier. Maybe I shouldn't have suggested a call. 

"Hansen, you okay?" I'm brought back to reality by Jared waving infront of my face, the boy wearing a expression comprised of a mixture of concern and entertainment. That's fair enough though, I don't know how I look to the rest of the world when I start drifting into thought. It could look hilarious. 

"Yes, I'm fine," I say, attempting to act casual. "What time is it?" 

"Quarter-to," Jared huffs. laying back in his seat. "Then yet another hour of revision. It never ends. What classroom are you going to?" 

"Oh, um, I don't know yet. Where ever's quietest," I turn my attention back to the box plot I was supposed to be finishing off. The next few minutes seem to fly by, against my wishes. The one time I want an after school session to drag. The bell sounds and students start moving. Some stay seated, some move to go home, and some start making their way to another classroom to revise. I stuff my belongings into my bag and stand up to move. I could hear Jared's voice saying something to me but I couldn't make out what it was. All sound seemed to go muffled, as if someone was cupping my ears. I walk through the halls, looking into each classroom and trying to weigh up my options while not being able to think clearly. 

"Uh, excuse me?" I turn around sharply, not realising how close the voice was to me and nearly knocking into him. "Could I squeeze past?" Instinctively I dart out of the way, apologising to the student. He nodded awkwardly, pulling his long hair back as he walked into the mostly empty classroom. He glanced back at me momentarily and I dashed out of sight. I couldn't sit in there anymore. Not after that display. I've been at this school for five years, but I don't know many people very well. This guy included, and I don't want to reinforce that awkward impression by staying in the same room and possibly stuttering down the phone for an hour. Defeated, I go into the bathroom. 

I pull up the number Connor had sent me, staring for a few minutes. My eyes drift up to the time which read ten-past four. I said I'd call before five-past. My hands start shaking and it becomes difficult to press the call button. Eventually, the screen changes and after two rings I hear the hum of a voice, though I can't make out what's being said. I try to force out a word but nothing comes out, and I swiftly hang up. I look down at my phone as I suddenly become aware of how fast I was breathing. I cover my mouth with my hand in an attempt to quiet myself, and slowly find myself slumping down the cubicle door and landing on the floor. 

~

My heart rate eventually slows after around thirty-five minutes, and I reluctantly look back at my phone. Two missed return calls, and two emails. It could be worse. I open the two emails, the first being sent before I called, and the second after.

Dear Evan,

Is everything okay? We still going ahead with the call? Just sat down and cracked out all my highlighters (which are actually my sister's) so ready when you are :) 

Dear Evan,

Are you alright? We don't have to call if you don't want, I just want to make sure you're okay. Message me when you can?

I cringed at the thought of how it must seem from his perspective. I call later than when we agreed, breathe down the line a couple of times, and then hang up. I needed to say sorry. I wanted to say sorry. I wanted to say it verbally rather than on the phone, but the thought of attempting to call again sent a sickening feeling through my body. 

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and someone walked in, turning the tap on and splashing water.

"Fuck!" He hissed, presumably through clenched teeth. "Why are you like this? You're so fucking pushy." It sounded like he was talking to someone else, but I was the only other person here, and I was sure he hadn't noticed me. I peered through the crack in the door, noticing it was the long-haired boy from before, and he was glaring as himself in the mirror. After a few minutes of scowling, his expression softened, and he seemed to look behind him. At me. 

"Is someone in there?" He said, his tone much quieter. He stuffs his hands into the pockets on his blazer, his body now turned towards the cubicle. I take a step back so my feet are less obvious. "I wasn't- that wasn't directed at you. I was just- uh, talking to myself...?" His voice seems to trail off, and he slowly begins backing out of the bathroom, embarrassed that I'd heard him going off on one at himself. It's no big deal to me, I have emotional breakdowns in bathrooms, others get angry in bathrooms- it's all the same really. We're all having a bad time. Part of me wanted to follow him out, give him some reassurance. But saying 'hey, I know we've never spoken before but I just want you to know that whatever has happened will be okay in the end and you shouldn't blame yourself so much' didn't seem very me. Besides, I shouldn't give out advice that I don't follow myself. 

I ran my hands through my hair, preparing to type out a new email to Connor to explain myself. 

Dear Connor,

I'm sorry. It just got a bit overwhelming. I couldn't hear you, or anything, and then when I tried to speak nothing happened, and I panicked. I would've explained sooner but I wanted to calm down a bit first. I wasn't ignoring you on purpose. I'm sorry. 

Only a few moments passed before I received a reply.

Dear Evan,

Don't apologize! I shouldn't have pushed you so soon. That sounds rough, is there anyone with you? I hope you're okay. 

I take a deep breath, re-reading those first words over a couple of times. That's the thing about Connor, he pushes me sometimes. Which is good. It's never too far, and it's never too often. It's just right. When we first started emailing consistently, he'd listen to why certain things were hard to do, and try and help me. For instance, I couldn't walk into a room on my own. If everyone else was already sat and settled, I didn't want to go in. I'm unable to count the amount of times I've been dropped of later than I'd like, forgotten something like my tie, had to go to the student desk to get one and then tried to rush to the class before the majority of people had already got comfortable. If it got too late, I'd try to linger nearby until I saw another late person and go in with them, or I'd skip that lesson altogether. 

It's still uncomfortable, but I've done it a couple of times now. And I wouldn't have if Connor hadn't pushed me that little bit. He always knows what to say, and when to stop. Which is a rare find in someone. They're either too forceful, or too lenient. 

I want to talk to him. 

I collect my bag off of the floor and storm out of the bathroom and towards the school gates, hoping it'd be easier if I was moving. I send him a text through the number he send me.

EVAN: Can you call me? 

I hold my phone out as I walk, and soon it was buzzing in my hand. I answered the call, pulling it up to my ear. 

"Hello?" 

"Hi Connor."