That Summer

"I don't understand," Paul whispered softly.

His large umber eyes pleaded with her silently, as if he could draw a logical reason from her quivering lips. The only thing he received in return was more tears.

"Did I do something? Was it something I said?" he tried. "Whatever it was, I didn't mean it."

Evangeline remained silent and Paul ran a hand down his face. The clock in his room glowed 12:31 AM back at him through the darkness. His father and brother were still sound asleep, remaining unawakened by Paul's pleading whispers.

"Evan?" he murmured. He knelt before her statuesque form as it perched on his bed before him. His hand reached up to touch her cheek, his fingers brushing softly over her tear soaked skin. She only pulled away from him. Paul's hands grasped her shoulders roughly and shook her as he fiercely whispered, "Evangeline, what the fuck happened?"

She gasped when he did this, surprised to see the angry Paul she'd not encountered for some time now rear his head. He worried for a second that he'd hurt her, but when he realized she'd only be startled he sighed slightly in relief. At least she had responded.

"I'm sorry," Evangeline whispered.
"Don't be sorry. Just tell me why," Paul insisted.
"I need to leave," she answered and stood abruptly.

Paul stood up and stared, dumbfounded, for a few seconds as Evangeline pulled on her shoes. It was when Evangeline was exiting his bedroom that Paul snapped back to reality and followed her.

"Evangeline, what the fuck are you doing?" he continued to whisper loudly, frantically.
"I'm leaving," the blonde responded calmly, already halfway down the stairs.
"What the - why?" the tall boy spluttered as he stumbled his way after her.
"Paul," Evangeline answered tiredly, her hand rested on the knob to the front door. "Let's not do this right now."

Paul paused then, and looked at Evangeline closely. He studied her face, how her mouth was set and her chin was held high and her eyes looked so blank and cold. She looked like dealing with Paul was a chore; like that summer had never happened and they were in senior year all over again. He realized with a pang that she'd reverted back to before anything had gone wrong. But before he could say anything she was already out the door.

"Evangeline! Come back here, it's almost one in the morning!" Paul had abandoned whispering at this point and called out for her, following her down his lawn.
"What is it?" she sighed.
"You can't keep doing this," he insisted. "You can't just run when shit gets hard!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, please. I know you better than that," Paul scoffed.
"Paul, I don't think you know me very well at all."

Had Evangeline been in a state of mind that wasn't screaming at her to put up as many defensive walls as possible, she probably would have seen the way Paul's eyes told her she'd shattered his heart. But she wasn't, and she didn't, and her boyfriend was trying desperately not to fall apart.

"If you leave," Paul began in a whisper, "I can't guarantee that when I leave for tour I'll still be your boyfriend." Something flickered in Evangeline's blue-grey eyes when Paul said that but it vanished just as soon as it came. "Don't make me make that decision," he pleaded. "Don't do this, Evan."

But even Paul's crestfallen face couldn't keep Evangeline Donahue on that front lawn.

--

"What do you mean she just left?" Bryan asked franticly, jumping from his seat. "Where'd she go?"
"I don't know. Bailey's maybe?" Paul's shoulders rose and fell back down in defeat.
"Well, what happened?" Martin cut in before Bryan could ask more questions.
"I don't know," his friend murmured back. "We had dinner with Joe and my dad. We watched a movie and fell asleep. And when I woke up she was in the bathroom," his head fell to his hands and he sighed.

Bryan and Martin watched their friend as he sat on his bed, dejection covering his face and hurt lacing every movement he made. Bryan didn't know whether to be more upset about his sister, or more worried for Paul's emotional wellbeing. Martin was just upset altogether.

"I thought she was getting better," his soft voice broke the silence.
"Something must have triggered her," Bryan tried to reason, tired fingers running through his blonde hair. "Was she acting weird?"
"No, she seemed normal. I mean she was kind of odd after dinner so it must have been during then."
"What'd you talk about at dinner?" Martin questioned slowly.
"I don't know," Paul shrugged. "Joe going to college, my dad made some lame joke about-" his eyes widened and he let out a groan. "Oh, shit."
"What?" Bryan questioned, half excited his friend had figured something out and half scared of what it was.
"Tour," the youngest of the group sighed. "My dad mentioned me leaving and she got all weird."
Martin raised his eyebrows in confusion, "But, she knew we were leaving."
"I think she knew. I don't think she understood it, though," Paul explained sadly.
"So what do we do?" Bryan asked.

All three of the boys looked at each other, confused and worried. The singer chewed his lip for a few minutes before speaking up.

"I think we should call Bailey and make sure that's where she is," he suggested.
"What if she's with her?" Paul questioned.
"We wait."
"What if she isn't with her?" Bryan posed.
Martin shrugged, "We wait."