Treetops

3.

Evan woke up at 5:18 pm. School had already been released and the empty halls seemed to mock Evan. Terror flashed through the young boy's eyes. "No no..." he whimpered as he rummaged through his backpack trying to find his phone. That's when he remembered that he had left his phone at home in the rush to get to school on time. He started to cry. Another anxiety attack, two in a day. He slowly crawled to the double doors at the end of the hallway. The sky was a dark gray with sudden flashes of lightning. The raindrops rolling down the window matched the teardrops rolling down Evan's cheeks. He slowly walked over to his backpack, putting it on and making his way to the public phone in the front office.

"Hey look. Sleeping beauty just woke up." Evan turned around to face a group of boys in the grade below him. "You know, I don't think anyone would notice if you never woke up," the tallest one sneered. "I wouldn't care."

"And neither would your daddy," said the one on the left. "He doesn't want you while you're alive, I doubt he'll care for you when you're dead." The three boys laughed. Evan stood paralyzed in fear, hugging Connor's notebook close to his chest.

"S-s-st," he tried to speak but no words came.

"Hey!" A new, familiar voice yelled. "Get the fuck away." The leader of the boys swiveled his head around.

"Oh look," he sneered "It's the druggie. Here to save his boyfriend." The other two boys laughed. "Well your boyfriend is sure dumb Connor. Can't even say simple words. His brain must be real small."

"Just like your dick," Connor fired back.

What did you say to me?" The boy asked as he pushed Connor against a wall.

"I said," Connor yelled angrily "that you have a small dick!"

"Well aren't you dying to find out?" The younger boy taunted.

Connor smacked the boy across the face and pushed him into the ground, grinding the heel of his boots into the boy's chest. Then he looked at the boy's friends. "Get out," he spat. "And don't come to school tomorrow. If I see your face tomorrow, I'll beat you up and I'll make sure you won't wake up." Connor lifted his foot and the boys scurried out of the school. They ran straight to the metro stop, not even caring that the rain would leave them soaking when they got home.

Connor spun on the heels of his boots until he was face-to-face with Evan, who was having yet another panic attack. He was crying heavily, his lungs grasping for air. When he made eye contact with Connor, his eyes grew wide.

"T-thank you C-connor," Evan managed to say through sniffles. Connor grabbed Evan's hand and pulled him onto his feet.

"This, all of this," Connor said while looking at Evan dead in the eye and gesturing to the door where the kids had run out of "was not because I like or care about you. It was because I hate them. Got it? And if you tell anyone, anyone, you're dead Vango. Understood?" Evan nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Here," Connor took out his phone and tossed it to Evan "call your mom and tell her to pick you up." Evan nodded again and dialed a number. Connor waited by Evan's side until his mom's rusty, white, Toyota pulled up to the side of the school.

"Do you want a ride home? I mean, your family is probably worried," Evan asked, his breath steady now.

"I doubt my family even noticed I was gone," Connor laughed. And even though he said it jokingly, Evan spotted the all-too-familiar pang of sadness in his eyes.