Jump (Dear Evan Hansen)

The Cast

"Connor," I whine. "I have so many study guides that I have to fill out for finals."

"Same. But hey, it should be easier with that cast off."

"Yeah, but I'm going to miss it a lot," I say as I look down at the CONNOR scrawled in Sharpie ink. Mom booked an appointment for me to get it removed on Friday, which is only two days away.

"And don't even think about climbing another tree so you can break your arm again. I'm sure the doctor will let you keep this one to hang up on your wall," Connor laughs. I elbow him in the arm.

"I can't believe that a week after you get your cast I'm getting mine off." Connor nods. We sit in silence.

Only two days.

~

Only two days ago, I was whining about finals and chatting about getting my cast off. Now it's actually happening. The cast, that is. Finals aren't for a week. Connor and I procrastinate a lot when it comes to studying. We've had numerous discussions about how teachers don't understand the difference between homework and studying. At least, that's how we see it.

The clock reads 10:30 A.M and Connor is sitting next to me in the waiting room of the doctor's office. One of the perks of your mom being a doctor is that she can get you and your boyfriend out of school. "Evan," she says cheerfully, "you can come back now."

"Here we go," Connor says under his breath as we stand up and follow my mom to a room in the back. "You ready, Ev?" I nod, and he squeezes my hand as reassurance. When we reach the room, Connor immediately goes for the swivel chair, which makes me laugh. I watch as he wheels himself over to the small bed styled thing, which I hop onto. After procrastinating by doing weight, height, and all that stuff, it's finally time.

"Okay Evan, to remove the cast all I have to do is use this little saw and it will cut the plaster. And then, I just have to remove the cloth wrapping and you'll be cast free! Connor, can you stick your non-broken arm out for me?" He does as she says. "Although this cuts plaster, I will not cut your arm Evan. Look," she says as she clicks a switch and turns on the blade. I watch as it rotates in an infinite circle and as she moves it towards Connor's arm. I gasp and partially cover my eyes, only to see it brush up against his skin, leaving no mark. A sigh of relief exits my lips, making my mom giggle as she turns the machine off. "Okay, you ready Evan? Say goodbye to your cast," she says cheerfully.

Say goodbye. Her words cause a chain reaction inside of me. Saying goodbye to my cast means moving saying goodbye to the constant reminder of my boyfriend. The constant reminder of what started this whole thing. This whole, wonderful, amazing, life changing thing that has given me hope and more happiness than I could ever imagine. It means moving on from high school and having to face college and the scholarship essays that I never sent in but mom thinks I did. All I did was shove reality under my bed and never look back at it.

I feel tension and sadness explode in my body as I stare into space, losing sense of reality. I hear my name, but it sounds distant. I start to sniffle and cry quietly, but an ugly voice in my head tell me it's too quiet. You're always too quiet. Nobody will hear you if you're that quiet. It's not enough. Nothing you ever do is enough. I start crying harder and harder as fear and negativity overflow and send me overboard. Mom touches my shoulder in attempt to comfort me but I rip away and curl into myself.

"Ev." I hear Connor's soft voice and try to control my cries so I can listen. "I know you're scared, I would be too. You've had this cast your entire senior year. At the beginning of the senior year when I saw you in your cast, I didn't think, 'oh, there he is. My soulmate. Before the year gets out, I'll be sitting next to him watching him get his cast removed and then probably going to get ice cream or something afterwards.' But that's just how life works. It's a pretty crazy game if you really think about it. And no matter what, I'll be here by your side to watch it play out, day by day. Okay Ev?"

Although I was able to go from sobbing to sniffling halfway through Connor's words, I notice I'm crying again when I sit up. "Evan, I-"

"Connor, I'm fine. That was just... it was really really beautiful," I manage to stifle a laugh. He takes my face in his hands and wipes away my tears. "Let's do this?" I say questionably.

"I don't know why you're asking me," Connor says, "but let's do this." He removes his hands from my face and wraps his arm around my side. I stick my arm out in front of me and my mom turns on the machine. She starts to direct it towards my arm.

"WAIT," I yelp, making mom and Connor jump. My mom quickly flips the switch on the machine to stop the rotating blade. "C-could you cut it on the sides? I kinda want to keep the half that says Connor's name on it."

"Of course Evan," she says tenderly. "Ready?" I nod, and once again, the blade starts rotating. I turn my arm on its side and watch as it makes contact with the plaster on my arm. Slowly, it saws through the material. Once it cuts through the end, mom turns my arm to cut the other side. As it reaches the end, Connor's arm gives my body a quick squeeze of excitement. It slices through the end of the cast, and the buzzing of the blade hums to a stop. My mom glances up at me, smiles, and then removes the two halves of the cast from my arm, placing them to the side. All that's left now is the gauze that lay underneath the plaster. Connor squeals happily as my mom begins to unwrap the cloth. Slowly, I am able to see parts of my arm. Then a majority of it. Then, all of it.

"Your arm!" Connor screeches with joy.

"My arm!"

I make gentile movements with it, and they slowly become more gradual. I wrap my two non-broken, completely free arms around Connor.

"Let me know when you're ready to get your cast off, Connor. I'll need to get you two excused from school again," she smiles, and we grin at each other. Connor looks me in the eyes and gracefully plants a kiss on my head.

"So," Connor says, "how about grabbing a scoop at A La Mode?"

I nod, and as we walk out of the office I begin to hum a tune in my head.

End of May or early June,

this picture perfect afternoon we share.