The Boy Next Door

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was dark when I woke up, slivers of light coming in through the cracked door. That light shone on Evan's face; he was still sleeping.

I didn't feel tired for some reason, maybe because I'd slept five hours after the wreck.

Evan stirred, drawing my attention. Because my face was in the dark, he wouldn't be able to see me if he woke up.

"Ah." He hissed when he shifted, his face contorting in pain. His arm hadn't moved, I noticed curiously. "Stupid ribs." His free hand pressed lightly against his ribs and he stood carefully, stretching them anxiously.

Sitting there in silence, I watched him limp to the foot of my bed. He hadn't been limping before. Once he was there, I decided to speak up. "Evan?" His shock was clear. Instantly he straightened his back and walked back over with no limp.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was already awake. You didn't tell me you hurt your ribs and ankle."

"It's nothing. Just a sprain." He tried to convince me.

"You can't sprain ribs."

"Fair point. Two of my ribs broke; they smacked against the steering wheel."

"Why did you think this necessary to hide?" I wasn't upset about it at all, just curious.

He shrugged and sat back down with a yawn. "What time is it?" I asked.

"Uh...five thirty." He said after looking at my phone.

At exactly noon Dad strode through the door. I knew what time it was because I'd been sitting here watching the clock, waiting. As I did, "Do You Wanna Build a Snowman" came to mind and I started humming it, to Evan's amusement.

"Hey, Meg. You ready to go?" I nodded enthusiastically.

He looked over at Evan. "The hospital had your dad's phone number wrong. He wasn't even aware that you were here until we got home last night. He said he'll come by soon."

"Thank you." Evan said appreciatively.

It was at that moment that the door burst open. "Dad!" Evan exclaimed. I felt my own father's hand tighten on my shoulder.

"Let's go. You're in trouble, young man. Not only did you cause a wreck, but someone else was in the car with you." Mr. Walker nearly dragged him out of the room and I heard him demand Evan's discharge papers.

"Why is he so angry?" I asked as Dad helped me to my feet. The crutches hurt my armpits, but I guess I'd have to get used to it.

"He may just be worried. Some parents use anger as an outlet for worry."

I frowned, that didn't make much sense to me. I guess I'd have to learn for myself what it meant once I had kids.

My accident was a buzz at school. It was all anyone could talk about. No one knew if I'd crashed into Evan, if he'd crashed into me, or we'd been in the same car, but they knew we had been involved in the same accident together. Brianna had been worried sick about me she said, but Mom and Dad didn't let her come see me until Sunday. She skipped church.

Instead of going to church, the doctor had advised that I rest up for a bit and not do much moving (I didn't hear anything but suspected I'd bruised a few ribs).

"Please, please, Megan," Brianna pleaded. "Don't get in his car again. I don't want you to be hurt anymore."

"He doesn't have a car anymore, Bri." I rolled my eyes.

"But will you? When he gets another one? I really don't need another reason to be angry with him."

As I laughed, I knew that there was a tone of seriousness to it. "Sure thing. But I'm not going to stop hanging out with him."

Sounding appalled, she answered, "I'm not asking you to. I want you to continue branching out and talking to people other than me."

I heard a tap on my doorframe and looked up. "Uh, sorry for barging in."

"Evan, how'd you get in?" I asked.

"Your mom left the door open for me."

Both Evan and Brianna avoided looking at each other, but at least they were in the same room with me. "Okay, so what's up?"

He shrugged. "I was bored, thought I'd come over and hang out. I didn't know Brianna was here."

She sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow at school, right?" When I nodded, she stood and made her way over to the door. "Bye."

Casting a glance at Evan, she left. Seconds later I heard the front door click shut.

"You hurt much?" He asked.

"No, I took the pills Dr. Garstang gave me and I'm only feeling a touch sore whenever I move. You?"

"Lost mine," he admitted with a shy smile. "My house isn't exactly what you would call 'clean'."

Rolling my eyes, I offered to come over and organize everything once I was back on my feet. Because my mom made me keep my room spick and span, I knew well how to clean a mess quickly.

"No thanks. Dad isn't a fan of having anyone else in the house." His eyes told me there was more to it, but I didn't say a word.

"Well enough. I'm not a huge fan of cleaning."

We sat in silence as I watched his eyes flicker toward the door every few seconds. Finally he said, "She wasn't too mad that we're talking again?"

"No, but she's not a fan of me being in your car anymore, you know, once you get it fixed and everything." I answered, knowing he meant Brianna.

"Good." Another minute elapsed. "I should probably get going before your parents get home."

"Okay," I nodded and he walked out. Why would it matter if my parents came home? We're both hurt, it's not like we'd be doing anything.

When I heard Mr. Walker's car, I knew that he wasn't running out because of my parents. Was he afraid of his dad finding him gone? Maybe Mr. Walker had told him to stay inside and rest.