Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His dad found him.

Connor doesn’t remember that part.

He doesn’t remember much but that’s okay, it’s nice, actually. A lot of things have happened, there are always people coming in to check on him and they say things at him and he says things back and his mom and dad are there and sometimes Zoe is too.

He remembers the pills and taking the pills and he remembers waking up the second time (there was a first time, apparently, but he doesn’t remember that which is good because he was sick, apparently, and he doesn’t like being sick). Zoe was in the room – she was stood by the door with her arms crossed and she looked right at him as he blinked slowly at her. At that point he was kind of trying to work out why he was alive or maybe whether she was dead too but then his mom realised he was awake and she started crying and then his dad started shouting and at some point Zoe must have left, but Connor doesn’t remember that.

He’s been in hospital for almost a week when the nurse comes in and tells him that there are some people here to see him, if he wants to. He thinks it’s probably the Harrises and no, he definitely does not want to see them.

He’s been in hospital for an actual week – an actual week since he tried and failed to kill himself because he really cannot do anything right – when another nurse comes in and tells him the same thing. This time, his mom’s here and when Connor tries to say no, she says,
“Oh, honey, it could be nice to see some friendly faces!”

Connor just stares at her. She beams – she looks so tired and her smile is all faded, like the one she was wearing when he was nine and he came to find her after she and Larry had a big fight and he’d asked if they were getting a divorce and she’d given him a hug. Maybe it was worse, this time – the smile.

She looks so hopeful and so sad and Connor feels like he’s standing a great way above her and he has so much power to break her and it’s – too much.

The nurse comes back with Evan Hansen. It’s weird and it gets weirder – his mom gives a little cry of recognition and gets up to give him a hug and Evan stares at Connor over her shoulder. His arm is still in the cast, bulky and Connor’s name is scrawled over it in stupid capital letters, why did he write it in capital letters.
“Hi,” Evan whispers. Connor stares at him. It’s fucking weird.
“I’ll be right outside Con, okay?” his mom says, and then she leaves.

They’re both silent for a while. Evan shuffles and Connor watches him. Eventually, it gets boring, trying to work out why the fuck he’s here so he just asks.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
“I’m sorry,” says Evan. “I’m – sorry, I – um.” He twists at the bottom of his t-shirt with his good hand and – it’s the same – it’s the same t-shirt he was wearing when Connor took his pills off him and tried to kill himself and it’s –

Evan Hansen’s gone all red and he’s screwing his nose up and it takes Connor a moment to realise he’s about to cry.
“Why does my mom know you?” he asks, because he doesn’t want to deal with that.
“She – um, she kind of – um, you had my letter? You know, my letter – it was stupid, my therapist wants me to write letters to myself, like, today’s gonna be a good day and you had it? The one I was writing in the computer room? I didn’t know you were there, sorry, I was kind of – I was thinking about my mom when I went in and I get kind of in my head sometimes, it’s weird, so I didn’t notice you. And you took my letter? Um, your mom kinda thought it was a – a suicide note?”

His voice creeps up at the end and he blinks at Connor like a deer in a Disney movie or some crap and Connor just stares.

“Why?” he says. “Why would I write you a suicide note?”
“Um,” says Evan. “She kind of – She kind of thinks we’re friends?”

Connor doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know what his face does, either, but it does something because Evan leaps back –
“Yeah, sorry, sorry, I know, right? Like, why would you want to be friends with me, I’m kind of – like, a loser, sorry, but she was really upset and I didn’t know how to say – I think she thought, I mean you didn’t have a note.”
“You apologise a lot,” says Connor.
“Sorry,” says Evan, and winces.

Connor thinks it might be funny, except he can’t really find the energy to care and the clock on the wall is ticking closer to four and that’s when Larry finishes work and then he’ll be on the way and Connor kind of wants to be asleep, or at least pretending to be asleep, when he arrives so they won’t have to have another conversation.

“Okay,” he says, and turns his head away. He can hear Evan shuffling there for a bit longer and then the door clicking open and shut and then silence.

And then the door opens again and there’s a girl saying,
“Hey Connor.”

Connor turns. The only girl he knows is Zoe and that isn’t Zoe’s voice – no, it’s Alana Beck with her hands tight around the straps of her backpack. He had Chemistry with her a few years ago and he thinks they have English or something together as well but they’ve never really spoken beyond, like, pass the hydrochloric acid and please don’t throw it in my face you fucking freak. Maybe Alana didn’t say that – she’s aggressively polite – but she was probably thinking it but she’s standing in his hospital room now anyway, which is.

It’s not the weirdest thing that’s happened today.

“I, um,” she says, and this is the first time he’s ever seen Alana Beck lost for words. Her gaze keeps tripping to the wires and the boxes by the bed that whir and the flowers that his grandma sent like he’d just got his tonsils out, maybe that’s what Larry told her to avoid a conversation about the family fuck-up, and there’s nothing else in the room. Maybe Alana’s here to report back to their grade about what Connor Murphy looks like in hospital – yeah, hospital, not asylum but it’s only a matter of time, right, ha ha, did you hear he tried to kill himself, about time – but then she swallows and shakes her head a bit. “I brought you the English work.”
“What?” Connor says, flatly.
“The English work,” Alana says. “We have English together? We’ve been in the same class since tenth grade?” She raises an eyebrow at him. She seems to have forgotten that he’s lying in a hospital bed because he tried to kill himself. He kind of likes that? “I thought you might want it, because it’s the only class you turn up to.” Now she looks disapproving and Connor kind of wants to laugh again. He gets closer to it this time – he smiles and she looks a little surprised and then she smiles back, uncertain.

She takes off her backpack and pulls a binder out of it and a copy of Much Ado About Nothing which she puts on the bedside table beside the (pathetic) bouquet of flowers.
“We were supposed to do Romeo and Juliet this term but I pointed out that one of the most famous depictions of suicide in literature probably wasn’t the best thing to be studying, so we’re doing Much Ado instead. It’s better, anyway, I think.”
“Cool,” says Connor. “I don’t really care?”
“I guess you’d rather we do Hamlet, huh?” Alana says. “And don’t say you don’t care, you obviously do care, you got 90 on the last paper last year – I got 94 but you shouldn’t feel bad, because my mom’s a college lecturer and a 90 is really good!”

Connor smiles again. He told Larry he got 34. He doesn’t even remember why – they were arguing about something and Connor knew that if Larry got disappointed enough he’d tell Connor to go to his room and then he could escape through the window.

“Okay,” he says. Alana gives a little nod and then she crosses the room and, taking a pen out of her pocket, she writes her number at the top of the first worksheet.
“I’ll come back,” she says, firmly. “I can bring you the Chemistry stuff if you want that too?”
“Not really,” says Connor.

She comes back twice that week – once on Tuesday (she brings the Chemistry homework and Connor’s in a shit mood so he rips in half and dumps it on the floor and she doesn’t even blink, just twists her mouth disapproving and tells him he’s being immature and so Connor tells her to fuck off and he doesn’t expect her to come back but she does). On Friday, she drops by with a bouquet of flowers.

“I know they’re yellow but I saw that the ones from your grandma were wilting and these should last for a good few days, and yellow is a good colour, it’s meant to be good for your mood.”
“Why are you here?” Connor asks.
“I brought you flowers – ”
“No, I meant why did you come here in the first place? You can’t fix me. Being nice to me isn’t gonna look good on a college resume.”

For a moment, she looks hurt. Then her expression settles. “Being rude to me isn’t gonna make you feel better.”
“I dunno, it kind of helps.”
“Sure,” she says. “Anyway, I’m busy this weekend with some acquaintances from Euro History, we’ve got a project, but I can come again on Monday, so – ”
“Okay,” says Connor. “Sure, come on Monday, you could have a similar conversation with an empty room. Probably wouldn’t even notice I’m not there, so.”
“You’re leaving?” she says, surprised. “Are you coming back to school?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Not if I can help it.”

She sets her face. “I’m gonna come see you on Tuesday,” she says, and storms out of the room. Then Connor goes to sleep and when he wakes up Evan Hansen is in his room.

“Why are you watching me sleep?” he asks, tiredly. Evan jumps. He thrusts out a bouquet of slightly wilted daisies then he remembers that Connor can’t reach him and he shuffles forward, looking terrified and reluctant and, fuck’s sake, why is he here?
“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!”
“You didn’t mean to watch me sleep?”
“No – um, your mom said you were probably pretending and I said your name a few times but then you didn’t – um, you didn’t wake up? But your mom said she was gonna get a coffee and I didn’t know if you were supposed to be alone, so I kind of – I stayed, but I was only here for, um, ten minutes maybe? I wasn’t – like, I wasn’t watching you sleep, I was texting my mom?” He looks down at the daisies. “Oh, these are for you, sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because – ” Evan says, and he licks his lips and tries to surreptitiously wipe his palms against his thigh. “Um, when I came last time, I don’t know if you remember, it’s fine if you’ve forgotten, you’ve probably got more important things to think about, but I wanted to apologise? And I forgot to, like, say it? Um. I’m really sorry, Connor.” He pushes out a breath, sharp, between his teeth. “I’m so – sorry, I didn’t know. I thought – you asked whether the pills’d get you high so I kinda thought that was what you were gonna use them for but I don’t even know if they’d get you high, they just calm me down and I shouldn’t have given them to you anyway, I’m so – I’m so sorry, and I don’t think you’re a freak? You said I did, but I don’t, um, I don’t know if you remember but when we were in ninth grade there were – um, Brian Harris? Do you know him? He was being, um, he was saying stuff to me about my mom and dad and he made me cry, and you came into the room and told him to go away? I mean, you said it cooler than that, sorry, but they never bothered me again?”

Connor doesn’t remember that. He thinks he was probably high if he thought interacting with Brian Harris at school was a good idea.

Evan shifts. “Um, yeah, so that’s. I came here to say sorry, anyway and, I don’t know if you need anything but I could get it for you?”

For a moment Connor thinks Evan is offering him drugs, and then he remembers that it’s Evan Hansen and he probably means, like, a hug or cookies or something.

“I’m good,” he says. Evan droops.
“Are you sure? I could get you, um, books or something? Or – ” He stops, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, sorry, you said – sorry.”
“Actually,” says Connor, for some reason. Evan Hansen blinks at him, hopefully. “I’m leaving tomorrow, so I don’t need anything.”
“Oh,” says Evan. “Right. Sorry.”
“Stop apologising.”
“Sor – ” says Evan. He bites down on it.

Connor goes back to school six weeks after he tried to kill himself.

His mom wanted him to wait it out longer; his dad tried to make him go back the week he got home from hospital. Zoe had put an end to that, leaning across the table at dinner and saying, without looking at Connor,
“Everyone is still talking about it. If he goes back now, he won’t be able to walk down a corridor without someone asking him why he did it, or how he did it, or why he wanted to.”

So they wait and Connor goes to therapy – lots and lots of therapy, every day, chaperoned by his mom who won’t stop crying. She and Larry have screaming arguments when Dr West suggests – at last – medication. They don’t ask Connor what he wants to do, but his mom wins the argument and he’s on pills now. His parents keep the bottle in their room, along with all the knives from the kitchen, his car keys and all his belts

They let him have his phone back – Larry confiscated it a week and a half ago after an argument about something, Connor not eating his gluten-free pasta bake or something.

Yesterday, after he spent all morning in the Principal’s office with his parents and the school councillor, everyone but his dad looking very sympathetic, Alana texted him:

From: Alana Beck

So are you coming back tomorrow?

We could have lunch together if you want?

To: Alana Beck

Yeah

From: Alana Beck

Is that ‘yeah’ you’re coming back or ‘yeah’ you want lunch?

To: Alana Beck

Yeah

From: Alana Beck

Okay

His mom was delighted when she found out Connor was texting a girl! Alana had come over to the house three times in the past few weeks, bringing piles of homework and, one time, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s because apparently getting over a suicide attempt is the same formula as getting over a breakup, who knew!

His mom adores her. Larry hasn’t met her. Zoe likes her – it was Zoe who gave her a lift back from school, all three times. Connor hadn’t realised they were friends but he and Zoe haven’t talked much since it happened or – well, they haven’t talked much in seven years.

Alana doesn’t really get it, but that’s okay because Connor doesn’t either. He thinks maybe, possibly, they could almost be friends, maybe, in the future. Then he catches himself thinking it and it’s stupid but.

She’s waiting for them outside school when Zoe’s car pulls up – they spent the drive in silence – and she gives Zoe a hug and puts her arm through Connor’s to tug him towards the building. She and Zoe talk about the upcoming jazz band concert and whether Zoe or George Thompson will get the solo and it should be Zoe but George Thompson’s a suck-up so Zoe’s money’s on him.

Connor has never heard of George Thompson before.

Zoe walks with them to Connor’s locker – Connor didn’t realise they were headed there until they arrived. She leant against the lockers next to him while Alana sorted through his books.
“I’ll meet you here after lessons, okay?” she says, staring at his shoulder.
“Okay,” he says.

Alana walks with him to English and then sits next to him which is nice of her. Everyone stares at him. Then he has Biology with Mrs Lin, who hates him and takes every opportunity to pick on him for questions he definitely won’t know the answer to but she just looks sort of sad and lets him sit in the back row and draw on his notepad without comment. Then he has Algebra with Brian Harris. Brian’s face goes red when Connor comes in and takes his usual seat, back row, left corner. He keeps shooting Connor nervous looks over his shoulder and the empty chair beside him seems to be growing bigger and bigger.

Then Evan Hansen drops down beside him.

He swings his backpack onto the table and rummages in it for his pencil case and his textbook. His hands are shaking.
“Hi?” Connor says.
“Hi,” Evan squeaks. He manages to look surprised that Connor’s sat there, like it wasn’t a pretty momentous decision for him to make, sitting there, like he did it by accident even though he’s always sat on the other side of the classroom, two rows ahead of Connor, twisting his t-shirt into a ball and sweating over the questions. “Have you done the homework?” he asks. The words come out on top of each other.
“No,” says Connor. “I’ve been a bit busy, trying to die.”

Evan swallows. “Right,” he says. “You – um, you didn’t?”
“What?”
“You didn’t try again?” Evan whispers.
“No,” says Connor. “It was a joke.”
“Oh,” says Evan. He forces a laugh. “Sorry.”

He meets Zoe at his locker after school and they drive home in silence. His mom asks how school was. Larry frowns at him over dinner. He goes to bed and his mom stays up to check on him, every hour, like she has for the past six weeks.

Maybe she sleeps in the day. 

 On Friday, Connor sits through another English class with Alana and a Chemistry class where his lab partner is very careful to not let him touch any of the acid they’re working with – like, what’s he gonna do? Drink it? He eats lunch on the bleachers because he doesn’t want to be in the cafeteria and then he realises that he really, really does not want to sit through History with Brian Harris so he goes and gets high in the bathroom and then he wants to leave.

He’s slipping out of the door when Evan Hansen almost walks into him.
“Hi Connor,” he says. “Are you going to History?”
“No,” says Connor, and tries to sidestep him but Evan accidentally blocks him and Connor is – too spacey to work that out.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“Where are you going to go?” Evan says, anxiously.
“I’m not gonna go hang myself from a tree, Hansen, you’re fine.”
“Oh,” says Evan. “No – I didn’t mean. I mean.”
“You can come with me,” says Connor. “If you want.”

He slides past him and then there are footsteps on the linoleum behind him and Evan Hansen’s caught up. He’s tugging at the straps of his backpack.
“You weren’t at lunch today,” says Evan.
“No,” says Connor. “I’m not really hungry.”
“How do we get out?” Evan says. “Won’t they stop us?”

Connor rolls his eyes. “No, Hansen, they don’t actually give a shit.”

Six weeks ago, right before Connor tried to kill himself, he tried to make Evan Hansen like him.

They can’t go far because Connor doesn’t have his car and Evan doesn’t drive. They walk to the mom and pop shop a block away and Connor buys more cigarettes and a lighter – they took that away too – and he’s smoked one before Evan says something.
“Did it hurt?”
“What?” says Connor, tiredly. Evan is the fourteenth person to have asked him this. “Not really, no.”
“When’d you get it done?”
“What?” says Connor.
“Your – ” Evan says, and he makes a weird motion at his ear.

It takes Connor a moment to realise. “Oh. I thought – ”
“What?”
“I thought you meant – with the pills.”
“No!” Evan says, loudly. “No, I meant the piercings.”

Connor doesn’t know why he smiles at that but he does and he lights another cigarette and offers Evan one – Evan says no, which isn’t surprising. “I did them when I was fourteen, I think? Just to piss my dad off. And then I did these ones last year. They hurt more, but it’s not really painful. Why? You want to get piercings, Hansen?”
“I don’t think so,” Evan says, carefully. “But it looks cool on you.”

Connor smiles again and this time when he blows out the smoke he turns his head so it doesn’t get in Evan’s face.

“Why would getting your ears pierced annoy your dad?” Evan asks, after a while.
“Because he’s a dick,” Connor says. “He thinks men should look like men, or whatever.”
“You look like a man,” Evan says. Connor drops his cigarette on the ground when he’s done with it.
“Whatever,” he says. “He thinks piercings and shit are for girls. I dunno, he grew up in the 70s.”
“You shouldn’t do that,” Evan says, going red.
“What?”
“Drop your cigarettes – sorry, I mean, it’s bad for the environment.”

He’s passed red, gone straight through to purple.
“I’m not gonna pick it up,” says Connor. Evan’s hands twitch.
“Sorry,” he says.

They walk in silence for a while. Connor hasn’t been out of the house without his mom in six weeks.
“You know a lot about the environment,” he says, after a while. Evan is staring at something across the road; when Connor starts talking, he jumps. He’s pretty jumpy.
“Oh, no,” he says. “Not that much. Um, I worked as a ranger – a junior ranger, I mean – at Ellison this summer? So, I mean, I like trees and I like the environment, sorry, that was weird, I don’t just like trees?”
“Okay,” says Connor. “That’s cool.”

Evan gives a laugh, startled. “No it’s not,” he says.
“No,” Connor agrees. “It’s pretty lame, but it’s cool that you have interests, or whatever.”

Evan goes slightly pink.

They walk back to school and slip in with the crowds pouring out through the gates. They part like the fucking Red Sea for Connor. People whisper. Evan sinks down into himself but he stays by Connor’s side until they’ve shoved – well, Connor shoved, Evan whispered excuse me, sorry and followed him – their way inside. He follows Connor to his locker and stands there, awkwardly, as Connor tries to open it. He got angry at Brian Harris last year and slammed it shut and the lock’s temperamental now.
“Um,” says Evan. “Do you have Facebook?”
“No,” says Connor. “I get death threats in person, why would I need social media?”
“D-Do you really get death threats?”
“Not anymore,” says Connor. His locker springs open. “I guess death threatening yourself takes the fun out of it for everyone else.”

He pulls everything out of his locker and tries to cram it all in his bag. Alana offered to help him with his homework this weekend.

“Why?” he says, when Evan makes a little sound and subsides into silence.
“I just – Um, I couldn’t find you on there, and I was wondering.”
“Why the fuck were you looking?” Connor says, bewildered. Maybe he sounds more aggressive than he intended – Evan’s mouth moves soundlessly for a moment.
“Um, I don’t know, I’m sorry.”
“Connor!”

Zoe is storming across the corridor. Connor sighs. He slams his locker shut – it bounces open again. Evan tries to hide in the corner.
“You skipped!”
“What?” says Connor.
“You skipped! You’re so fucking lucky Dana Miller saw you leaving with Evan – ”
“What?”
“You don’t turn up to a lesson, people think you’ve gone to kill yourself, you fucking idiot.” She’s bright red, she could give Evan a run for his money, and then she punches him – hard – in the arm. “And you fucking reek of weed – I’m gonna tell mom.”
“Do whatever the fuck you want,” he spits. “What’s she gonna do? Lock me in my room – oh, wait, they took away my fucking door.”
“Because you locked it!” she says.

This isn’t a conversation they should be having – screaming – at each other in the middle of school. People have stopped to watch. Zoe realises it at the same time. She tucks her hair behind her ear and turns to Evan.
“Hey,” she says. “Evan. Do you need a ride home?”
“Oh no,” Evan says. “No – I can – I’m not far, I can walk?”
“Come with us,” says Zoe. “I don’t want to be alone with him.”

She storms off and Connor slams his locker shut again – it stays, this time – and glares at the people who are still lingering around them until they leave.
“You don’t have to come with us,” he says. He’s imagining Larry’s face when Zoe tells them.
“I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake Hansen, I don’t fucking care.” 

The weekend is shit. The meds aren’t working – Connor can’t sleep and his appetite’s gone completely. His mom cries in the bathroom after Zoe tells her he skipped, then she pretends everything’s fine and she and Larry talk about sending Connor to a different school. Connor pushes peas around his plate and tries to pretend that the idea of a new school, a new group of people who will whisper and say things and stare at him when he enters a room like they’re wondering where he’s hiding the gun, doesn’t make him feel ill.

Alana comes round on Saturday. They do homework on the kitchen table with a plate of his mom’s raisin cookies. Alana eats three; Connor breaks one into tiny pieces. They go through English, Algebra, Biology.
“Why don’t you do art?” Alana says, when he passes her his Biology paper to look over.
“Because I don’t want to.”
“But you’re good at it.”

He sinks down in his seat and she doesn’t push it for once, just says, “You’ve got this wrong.”
“Yeah, I missed the lesson.”
“Look, it’s not that hard.”

His mom tries to talk to him about Alana after she’s left. He thinks she thinks he’s interested in her, which – well. He might as well continue to be a disappointment, he’s been doing such a good job of it so far. On Sunday they go back to Dr West and she looks disappointed as well.

He’ll get new meds. He still can’t sleep.

At half one on Monday morning, his mom puts her head around the door.
“Hey,” she says. “You awake?”

It’s pretty obvious he’s awake – he’s looking at her. She comes in and sits on the bed beside him. She pushes his hair off his face. She always looks so sad now.
“Maybe we should get this cut,” she says.
“No,” says Connor.
“It’ll get hot, in the summer.”
“Maybe I’ll cut it in the summer.”
“Okay, Con.”

She doesn’t know what to say to him. They all treat him like a bomb about to go off.

“Maybe you could join a club or something?” she says. “Be a part of something?”

He told her it wasn’t his suicide note. For some reason – probably because he kept it in his pocket when he tried to die –it’s still important to her. He saw her crying over it last Wednesday, when he got back from school.

“Maybe,” he says.
“Maybe we could have Alana and Evan over for dinner?” she says. “I could make lasagne? You like lasagne!”
“I don’t like gluten-free lasagne,” he says. “It’s disgusting.”

She sighs. “It’s good for you, Con.”

He rolls his eyes and turns over, bunching the blanket up by his chin. She stays there for a little while, combing her fingers through his hair and he doesn’t remember her leaving. He fell asleep. 

On Monday, Alana and Evan and Evan’s dickbag friend sit with him at lunch. Well, Alana cornered him after French and dragged him to the cafeteria and then sat them down at the table where Evan and Evan’s dickbag friend were already sat.
“Hi Evan, hi Jared,” Alana says.
“Hi Connor,” says Evan. “Hi Alana.”

Evan’s dickbag friend – Jared, then – is staring at Connor, eyes big. Connor wonders if he remembers saying school shooter chic.
“Eat,” Alana says, picking up her knife and fork. Connor looks doubtfully at his plate. It’s probably better than gluten-free lasagne but he’s not hungry.
“Do you want my yogurt?” Evan asks. Jared’s eyes get bigger. “Um – when I’m not hungry, I can usually stomach yogurt?”

He passes it over before Connor can answer.

“Thanks,” Connor mutters. He’s seen Zoe enter the cafeteria. They make eye contact – she looks a little surprised and she doesn’t smile or anything, just goes to join the queue. Connor bounces his leg under the table until Jared says,
“God, Evan, stop, that’s so annoying.”

Evan says, “Sorry, I’m – I’m not doing anything?”

Connor stops. Jared says,
“Sure, okay,” and laughs. Connor scowls at him but he doesn’t notice. Zoe does, as she drops into the seat between Evan and Alana.
“Hey, looking like you’re working out which organ to rip out first is a great way of making friends,” she says.
“Fuck you.”
“Hey,” she says, to Evan and Alana. And then, “I’m Zoe Murphy, hey.”
“Jared Kleinman,” says Jared. “I don’t usually sit here.”
“Okay?” she says.

Evan goes red. Usually, Evan eats on his own. Connor knows because once he went into the bathroom at lunch to buy weed off of Sam Taylor and Evan came in with a sandwich and then hid in a cubicle. Connor kicks Jared Kleinman underneath the table – hard. Jared yelps.

Smiling down at the yogurt, Connor picks up his spoon. When he looks up, Evan is watching him. He smiles, a little nervously. Connor shrugs at him.
“So, actually, I was thinking,” Alana says. “Maybe it would be good if we could create some kind of support group?”

She says it very fast, at her tray.

“Support group for what?” Jared says.
“For people,” Alana says. “Who are struggling, for whatever reason. Depression. Anxiety.”
“Fuck off,” Connor snaps. Zoe snarls,
“Connor!”
“No, I told you, I’m not gonna sit here and be your fucking pet project.”
“You’re not!” Alana says.
“Sit down,” Zoe hisses. “What is your problem!”
“Do you want the list, Zo?”
“People are looking,” Evan whispers, into his hand.

Connor kicks his chair back and walks out.

Evan sits next to him in Algebra anyway. 

On Tuesday, Alana drags him back to the cafeteria. She’d texted him last night to apologise. Zoe had scoffed and said she really didn’t need to, it was all Connor’s fault anyway. They sit at a table with Evan and Jared. Zoe sits with her friends from band on the other side of the room. Jared tells them all about a video game he’s just beaten – first one of his gaming friends to do so.

“You have friends?” Connor asks. Jared makes a face at him.
“Yeah, more friends than you.”
“Oh,” Connor says. “Yeah, because that’s so hard.”

When he and Evan are walking to History, he asks,
“Why do you hang out with that guy? He’s a dick.”
“He’s not,” Evan says, loyally. “He can be a bit mean sometimes but he’s nice really.” He scratches his wrist where the cast ends. Connor really wishes he hadn’t written his name so fucking big. “His mom pays for his car insurance, and she’s good friends with my mom, so. I dunno.”
“So – his mom pays him to be nice to you?” Connor says. Evan’s mouth twists.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“That’s really fucking sad, oh my God.”

He doesn’t mean to laugh but he does and he expects Evan to do something awful like cry except Evan laughs too.
“I know,” he says. “Oh my God.”

After History, Connor turns to him and says,
“Hey, give me your number.”
“Okay,” says Evan. He sounds kind of eager and he blushes, fumbling for his phone. He reels it off to Connor and then spells out his name – “Evan H-a-n-s-e-n, ‘cos loads of people spell it with an ‘o’, but it’s e, um, sorry, you probably don’t care.”
“Whatever,” says Connor. “People spell my name with an ‘e’, instead of an ‘o’,” he adds, trying to be nice. “C-o-n-n-e-r.”

Evan smiles. He’s got a nice smile – it makes him look less like a frightened woodland animal in a Disney film. 

He eats lunch – well, Evan’s yogurt – with the three of them every other day that week. Zoe doesn’t join them again but she always waits for Connor by his locker to take him home. Usually, it’s in silence. She puts the radio on loud and Connor looks out the window.

On Friday, she drives out of the car park with Katy Perry singing on the stereo and then drives down the block and pulls over.
“I want to ask you something,” she says. She turns the radio off. Connor stares very hard at the mom and pop shop outside. They overcharged him on cigarettes. “We’re not. You’re not.”
“What?” says Connor.

She pushes a hand through her hair. She looks like their mom when she does that. She’d probably hit him if he told her. “You haven’t spoken to me in years? I mean, at all. You told me you were gonna kill me? Like, two weeks before you did it. You hate me.”

The first few times Connor smoked weed he got really bad cottonmouth, all thick and fuzzy and it was hard to talk round it. That’s how he feels now.

“I don’t,” he says. She scoffs.
“You did a good job of pretending like it.”
“I know,” he says. He has to try. “I’m sorry.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure. No, you know what? You don’t get to say I’m sorry and expect me to forgive you? I don’t fucking forgive you.”
“Okay,” says Connor. She starts the engine, turns it off again.
“You made my life hell.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“For years? But you’re sorry? No you’re not, I don’t believe you. If you were sorry you wouldn’t have fucking done it.”
“That’s probably true,” he says.
“You make mom and dad miserable. You don’t try. You’re fucking horrible to people at school.”

True, true, true.

“I don’t. I don’t understand, Connor?”
“There isn’t a fucking explanation. I fuck things up, that’s what I do.”
“Oh don’t be so self-pitying.”
“I don’t know,” he says.
“You don’t know or you don’t want to talk about it?”

He folds his arms across his chest and looks out the window. She makes a sound, frustrated.

“Do you remember when we used to go to the orchard?” she says. “And we’d try to find four leaf clovers? And if you found one and I didn’t you’d give it to me because you said you wanted me to have luck.”
“I probably just wanted mom to get me ice cream,” Connor says.

In the mirror, he sees her mouth twitch, amused despite herself.

“I don’t understand,” she says, after a while. “Why you couldn’t just tell me if you needed me to do something. I’d have done it.”
“You shouldn’t have,” he says, watching a pigeon try to pull up some gum from the sidewalk. He can feel her eyes on him but she doesn’t say anything else, just starts the engine and drives them home. 

He thinks the new medication Dr West has him on works better – it’s just weird, having something better to compare everything to.

He starts sleeping. His mom comments on it in the middle of the week –
“Every time I’ve been in to check you’ve been asleep, Con, I think these are the ones, yeah?”
“Can I have my door back then?”
“No,” says Larry, buttering toast.
“We’ll talk at Thanksgiving,” Cynthia says.

Connor starts scowling and Larry starts frowning but then Connor’s phone vibrates in his jeans and he doesn’t really want to make his mom cry, again, so he slides it out – Larry says,
“No phones at the table.”
“Yeah,” says Connor, not listening.

From: Evan Hansen

Do you maybe want to do something this weekend?

If you’re free

If you’re busy it’s fine don’t worry about it sorry

Or if you don’t want to

To: Evan Hansen

I’m grounded

From: Evan Hansen

Why?

To: Evan Hansen

Take a wild guess??????

From: Evan Hansen

Oh right

“No phones at the table,” Larry says. He probably has some kind of power complex.
“Larry, it’s fine, no one’s eating!”
“No Cynthia, it’s not fine, while they’re under my roof they will obey my rules.”
“Your roof?”
“It’s my money, Cynthia.”

Connor catches Zoe’s eye, accidentally. She makes a face. He smiles. Then Larry shouts –

“You let him get away with murder!”

And then it’s very quiet and they’re all staring at him, horrified, for a moment.
“So it’s my fault?” Cynthia asks, quietly.
“I didn’t mean that,” Larry says, closing his eyes. “But you coddle him. He’s not a kid anymore.”
“He’s also right there,” Zoe snarls. “Come on, we’re going to be late for school.”

She picks up an apple from the bowl and shoves it at him as she passes because his mouth has gone numb and he hasn’t touched his cereal. 

From: Alana Beck

Okay I don’t want you to freak out this time

To: Alana Beck

I??? Do not freak out??

From: Alana Beck

Yes??? You do???

I think the support group is a good idea

Connor types out a reply, presses delete, types out another one, clicks his phone off.

From: Alana Beck

I’m not talking about you okay?

I have anxiety

High-functioning

The fact that you clearly struggle with mental illness is not the reason I want to do this. I’ve wanted to do it for a while but I’ve never had anyone who would help me.

To: Alana Beck

Why would you think I would help you?

When have I ever done anything to give people the impression I want to help them?

From: Alana Beck

You talk a big game Murphy

To: Alana Beck

If I am involved in this people will not turn up

From: Alana Beck

Do you have Facebook?

To: Alana Beck

No???????? Why do you people think I do????

From: Alana Beck

Okay ask Zoe to show you the page it’s called the Connor Project

To: Alana Beck

I’m sorry the what

Alana

Alana

The what

The fucking what?

“Oh my God, calm down,” Zoe says, when he bangs into her room and shoves his phone at her. “Yeah I’ll get it up, it’s not a big thing, jeez.” She glances up at him, eyebrows raised. “Sit down? Stop looming?”
“I’m not,” he says, sitting down on her bed. “Looming.”
“Not anymore,” she says. She rolls over in her desk chair, laptop balanced on her knees. “Here.”

The Connor Project.

He feels slightly ill.

“What the fuck?” he says. “Why the fuck didn’t anybody fucking tell me?”
“I assumed Alana would have done,” Zoe shrugs. “It was her thing, so.”
“Her thing,” Connor says. His neck feels hot. “Right.”
“She’ll delete the page if you want her to,” Zoe says, watching him. “It’s not a big deal. Look – I think people got their wires crossed after it happened. I wasn’t there, obviously, but people thought you’d actually – You know? They didn’t realise, and Alana set it up for people to talk. Nobody said anything bad – just, like,” she scrolls down the page. “Really sorry, blah blah, wish I’d had an opportunity to know him better, that kind of thing?”
“But I’m not dead?” Connor says.
“Obviously not.”
“But nothing’s. I mean. They have the opportunity?”
“You’re not exactly approachable,” Zoe says.
“I want her to delete the page,” he says. “She can do that right?”
“Yeah,” Zoe says. “Are you – ?”
“Fine, yes,” he says, and gets up and leaves.

Storming out is less cathartic when he doesn’t have a door to slam and he can’t get high because his dad will smell it and he cannot deal with that argument today; he just crawls into bed with his hoodie and jeans on and texts Alana.

To: Alana Beck

Delete that

To: Evan Hansen

Tell me something cool about trees

From: Alana Beck

Okay

I’m sorry

From: Evan Hansen

There are probably more than 53000 species of tree!

We don’t even know how many there are!

That’s not cool sorry hang on I can think of a better one

From: Alana Beck

It’s gone

From: Evan Hansen

This is cool I think??

The oldest tree in the world is 9500-year-old Norwegian Spruce in Sweden!

[attached: photo_oldest_tree]

To: Evan Hansen

Cool

How do they know how old it is?

From: Evan Hansen

Haha

You can use an increment borer to count the tree's rings, or multiply the tree's diameter and the growth factor to estimate the age!!

To: Evan Hansen

So do you Google tree facts in your spare time

From: Evan Hansen

Sometimes

Sometimes I Google bird facts

Connor laughs and then burrows down in his blanket so no one will hear.

To: Evan Hansen

Wow

From: Evan Hansen

:)

To: Evan Hansen

Do you want to come round?

From: Evan Hansen

To your house?

Now?

Or when I mean sorry?

To: Evan Hansen

Now

Tomorrow

Whenever

From: Evan Hansen

I can come now if that’s okay if you’re busy or something it’s fine?

To: Evan Hansen

I literally invited you

He sends Evan his address and Evan says he’ll be there in a bit and then Connor rolls over and falls asleep because he’s been accumulating sleep debt since he was thirteen.

His mom wakes him up.
“Con, Evan’s here. You shouldn’t sleep in your clothes. Is he staying for dinner?”
“I don’t know,” Connor says, twisting out of his blanket. “Ask him?”
“Okay, I was just –” she says, holding her hands up. “You didn’t say he was coming round, so I didn’t know.”
“Yeah he just. I mean I just invited him so. ‘Cos no one’s ever wanted to spend time with me so I don’t know what the etiquette is.”

It’s worth it for the expression of hurt that flitters across her face. Then he feels awful, awful, what a fucking terrible person. She squeezes his arm, pushes his hair out of his face.
“You can have him round whenever you like, hon,” she says.

Evan is stood in the hall, shuffling awkwardly. Connor stands at the top of the stairs and says,
“Come up, take your shoes off, whatever.”

Evan goes red and trips over his laces and then goes redder and he tries to toe his shoes into a neat line against the skirting board. He comes awkwardly up the stairs.
“I don’t have a door,” Connor says. “So.”
“Uh – that’s okay, we don’t – need one,” Evan says. He cringes.

He sits at Connor’s desk and Connor sits cross-legged on his bed and watches Evan tug anxiously at his cast.
“When’s that come off?”
“Tomorrow, actually,” Evan says, nodding. “Um, yeah.”
“Cool,” says Connor. He can’t wait until he doesn’t have to see his own fucking name written big and messy over Evan’s arm. It was fucking weird, signing it.
“I kinda want to wash it,” Evan says. “My arm, I mean. Um, sorry – that was. Um, I don’t know if you’ve ever broken your arm? You can’t wash it, you have to keep it wrapped in plastic, it feels weird.”
“Right.”
“Um. Have you ever broken your arm?”
“No,” Connor says. “I broke two fingers once. Zoe broke her arm when she was nine.”
“How did you break two fingers?”
“I punched someone,” Connor says. “I didn’t know how to do it.”
“Oh,” says Evan. He starts walking the chair round, swinging back. “Who did you punch?”
“Brian Harris,” says Connor.
“In our grade?”
“Yep.”
“Why’d you punch him?”
“I dunno,” says Connor. “I was high, probably.”

Actually, Brian Harris had been saying things about Zoe. Connor had been high, but mostly it was Zoe. He thought she’d be mad if she knew so he told his mom he’d punched a wall and Larry had rolled his eyes and grounded him.

“Oh,” says Evan. “I’ve never been high.”
“That’s not surprising,” Connor tells him.
“What’s it like?”
“Fine.”
“My mom says it makes you paranoid.”
“It can, yeah.”
“Does it make you paranoid?”
“No,” Connor says. He considers it. “Maybe a little. Not very much. It’s kind of – calming? Usually it made me feel less like I wanted to die.”

Evan flushes and looks down at his knees.

“Hey,” says Connor. “Did you see the Facebook page Alana set up?”
“The Connor Project?” Evan says. “Yeah, I saw it.”
“Did a lot of people?”
“I don’t really know a lot of people,” Evan says. His voice trails off. “Sorry.”

Connor leans back against his headboard.

“It was nice though, right?” Evan says. “I mean, having people say those things?”
“Not really,” says Connor. “They all hate me? It’s fucking hypocritical. I don’t really want them talking about me like that.”
“You don’t – ” says Evan, then he shuts himself up, scratching at his elbow above the cast.
“I don’t what?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t what?”
“You don’t – I mean, it’s not a bad thing but you don’t like you don’t try to blend in at school?”
“Like you do,” Connor says. Evan goes red. “I realised that it didn’t really matter if I was wearing polo shirts or not, Hansen, they were gonna call me a psycho anyway. School shooter, right? Addict. Loner, loser, bully, crazy, whatever.”
“You don’t care?”
“No,” says Connor.

Evan stares at him. “I wish I could do that.”
“Weed,” Connor says. “Fucking lifechanging.”

There’s a beat where Evan’s clearly trying to work out if he’s joking or not. He must decide Connor is joking because he laughs.

Cynthia puts her head around the doorframe to ask Evan if he’s staying for dinner. Evan stumbles over his refusal. When she’s gone, Connor asks,
“What do you think about Alana’s stupid support group?”

Evan chews his lip. “I don’t think it’s stupid,” he says.
“You don’t?”
“No,” Evan says. “Like, if it’d help people? I think it could be a good thing.”
“I think Alana wants me to run it with her or something,” Connor says. Evan bobs his head.
“That’d be cool.”
“No it wouldn’t,” Connor says.
“Don’t you ever wanna be,” Evan begins and then he stops, itches his cheek. “I dunno, like, a part of something?”
“I am a part of something,” Connor tells him. “The food chain.”

Evan laughs again, ducking his head.
“Yeah, it’s stupid,” he says, in a rush.
“It’s not stupid,” Connor says. “If you wanna do it, I’ll tell Alana – ”
“No,” Evan says. “I don’t think I’d be any good at it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m,” Evan gestures at himself, all-encompassing.
“So?”
“I can’t really talk to people?” Evan says. He pushes round on the chair. “You’ve noticed.”
“I think you do fine,” Connor says. “You don’t punch people ‘cos you’re high.”
“I don’t think you did that,” Evan says. He blinks up at Connor. “Sorry.”
“Whatever.”

To: Alana Beck

What would this support group be then?

You’re not calling it the connor project

I’m only doing it if Evan Hansen does too

  [Alana Beck added Connor_Murphy, Evan_Hansen, TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman, JazzBandJazZoe to the group chat: Support Group Name Pending]

From: TheInsanelyJaredKleinman

Oh my god

Delete this

From: JazzBandJazZoe

??

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

U literally started a chat with the Most Unpopular people at school??

From: Connor_Murphy

You’re on it????

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Lolllll

Also – fucking rude?

From: Evan_Hansen

What is this?

From: Connor_Murphy

Kleinman what the fuck is wrong with your username?

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Just letting ppl know who I am

From: Alana.Beck

I thought it’d be easier to talk about the support group plan via messenger

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

De.lete.Me.From.This.Chat.

From: Connor_Murphy

Please do?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Don’t be rude to Alana

Good idea Alana!

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Gay idea Alana!

From: Evan_Hansen

You’re gay Jared?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

#exposed

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Wtf Hansen? What if I wasn’t ready to come out to these ppl??

From: Evan_Hansen

I’m so sorry I didn’t think

I’m so sorry

It’s just you told Ms Bee so I thought it was an everyone thing now??

From: Alana.Beck

Everyone knows Jared’s gay Evan he’s just being a dick

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

;)

I’m the sexual awakening the Gays at this school deserve

From: Connor_Murphy

I hate you?????

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Did I Awaken you 2 Murphy?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Lol no that was Hugh Jackman you’re 6 years too late

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

WAIT

WHAT?????? WHAT????? WHAT?????

W H A T?????

From: Alana.Beck

Can we please talk about the support group?

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

MURPHY YOU’RE GAY WHAT THE F U CK?????

From: Evan_Hansen

Why does it matter Jared?

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

BECAUSE ALL THE DICK SUCKING JOKES I’VE BEEN MAKING FOR THE PAST 3 WEEKS HAVE BEEN!!!! REAL!!!! I AM A GOD???

Alana.Beck removed TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman from the chat

From: Evan_Hansen

I’m so sorry Connor!!!!!!!!

He can be really horrible sometimes but he doesn’t mean it I swear!!!

From: Connor_Murphy

It’s fine Hansen idc

From: JazzBandJazZoe

It’s fine evan he’s laughing i can hear him from his room

From: Connor_Murphy

Fuck off

I was laughing at Alana removing him from the chat I screenshotted it it’s my screensaver now

From: Alana.Beck

Can we talk about the support group now please?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Yeah!!

I think it’s a really good idea Alana!

What do we need to do to set it up?

From: Alana.Beck

We need a teacher supervisor

I’ve got a few ideas but I want everyone to be comfortable so what do you guys think of Mrs Lin, Mr Cowell, Miss Grey or Ms Bee?

From: Connor_Murphy

Not Lin she hates me

From: JazzBandJazZoe

That’s because you decapitated a mouse in her class freshman year and traumatised everybody

From: Connor_Murphy

Yes?

She still hates me so she wouldn’t do it

From: Evan_Hansen

I like Ms Bee

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Same!

From: Connor_Murphy

idk she’s never taught me

From: JazzBandJazZoe

She’s perfect then she won’t be scared off

From: Alana.Beck

Okay! We can go ask her tomorrow?

I’ll be president I have the most experience but obviously it’s a democratic vote so if you guys agree say ay

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Ay ay captain!

From: Connor_Murphy

idc whatever

From: Evan_Hansen

Ay!

Shouldn’t we add Jared back though? So it’s a full vote?

From: Connor_Murphy

Hansen

>:I

From: Evan_Hansen

Sorry

Alana.Beck added TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman to the chat

From: Alana.Beck

Scroll up

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Ay

What are the rest of us doing?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

I thought you thought it was a bad idea

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

It is

That’s why you need me

To make it less shitty

From: Alana.Beck

We need vice President, secretary and treasurer!

Obviously those roles aren’t necessarily important but the titles look good on college applications!

We probably won’t be handling money

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Oh good I’ll do that then

From: Alana.Beck

Guys? What do you want to do?

From: Connor_Murphy

Nothing?

From: Evan_Hansen

I don’t think id be very good at any of those things Alana I’m really sorry

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Don’t worry Evan!

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

I can be both VP and secretary

From: Connor_Murphy

No.

From: Alana.Beck

Okay then Connor you be VP

From: Connor_Murphy

No.

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Can you try and not be a dick?? 

Zoe explains to their parents over breakfast that they’ll be late back because they’re going to see Ms. Bee about starting a support group.

Cynthia claps her hands to her chest. Her eyes fill with tears. Larry makes a sound at the back of his throat.
“A support group?” he says.
“Yeah, for people at our school going through a hard time,” Zoe says. Her voice is hard and firm.
“Right,” says Larry. He goes back to the paper.

Connor imagines picking up his cereal bowl and hurling it at his dad’s head or the wall behind it, imagines it shattering and his hands close tight so his nails bite into his palms and it hurts.

Cynthia is gushing over what a good idea this is and how glad she is that they’re both involved in something together, they used to be so close –

Zoe cuts it short,
“Yeah, okay, we’re gonna go now. I wanna practice before school, so. Come on Connor.”

In the car, she puts her keys in the ignition and then pulls out her phone to reply to a text. She’s kind of smiling down at the screen. Connor clears his throat.
“Do you, like. Do you have a thing for Alana?”

It takes her a moment to look up, tucking her hair behind her ear. “What?”
“Alana. Do you like Alana?”

She frowns, like she’s trying to assess him. “Do you like Evan Hansen?” she asks. Connor gives a little laugh, startled.
“What?”
“Okay then,” she says, putting her phone in the ashtray. It’s empty because she won’t let Connor smoke in her car but it still feels a little passive aggressive.
“Do you like her then?”
“Yeah,” Zoe says, like a challenge. “Don’t tell her, okay?”
“Okay.”

She backs out of their drive, jamming the radio on. Their house is out of sight when Connor asks,
“Why the fuck do you think I like Evan Hansen?”
“I don’t know,” Zoe says. “You just seem to.” She frowns at him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, anyway.”
“Okay wow.”
“What, you think I’m wrong? He’s clearly incredibly vulnerable and you’re.”
“Yeah.”

It makes him kind of angry, the itchy, buzzing kind of anger that settles quite easily beneath his skin and he doesn’t want to shout at Zoe anymore so he bites on his tongue until his mouth tastes like copper.

The last class of the day is English so he and Alana wait outside the classroom for the others to come to them. They finished Much Ado About Nothing and Alana’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of her feet with her hands wrapped around her backpack straps. Connor is – not? He thought his meds were working but he feels like he did all the time a few months ago, irrationally and inescapably angry and he keeps thinking about Larry saying Right and snapping the newspaper open so he didn’t have to see Connor’s face and the anger starts hot in the centre of his chest and spreads outwards.
“I’m going to the toilet,” he tells Alana. He doesn’t know what his face is doing but she steps back, says,
“Connor, are you – ?”

He’s already halfway down the corridor. The school’s almost emptied out – there are a few guys huddled around a locker by the nearest bathroom. One of them is Brian Harris so Connor speeds up – that’s a conversation he does not want to have but then someone says,
“Hey, Murphy – ”

He shoulders the door open and slams the door of the nearest cubicle so hard the whole thing rattles. He kicks the toilet seat lid down and drops onto it, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair, pulling tight. In for seven, out for fourteen. In for seven, six, five – Out for – In – Out –

“Hey, Murphy? You okay in there?”

In, out. In, out.

“Hey, Connor? Fuck.”
“I’m not trying to fucking kill myself Brian!” Connor yells.
“Oh. Good. Um. You okay, dude?”
“Yeah I’m peachy, go and look at your fucking Playboy, your goons are waiting.”
“You don’t really sound okay, and your mom said – ”
“Harris fuck off!”
“Connor?”

The door to the bathroom shuts. There’s a moment of silence, then Brian says,
“Sorry, who are you?”
“Um, Evan? Evan Hansen, sorry? We’re in homeroom together?”
“Oh,” says Brian. “Yeah. You know Connor then?”

Connor rolls his eyes so hard he sees spots. He bangs the cubicle door open, reaches out and pulls Evan in with him, shuts it in Brian’s face.

“Go away, Brian,” he says.
“Jeez, sorry, I didn’t realise it was that,” says Brian.

Connor sits back down on the toilet seat lid. In for seven, out for fourteen. Was it in for fourteen and out for seven?

Then Evan’s crouched down beside him. Very tentatively, he takes hold of one of Connor’s hands.
“In with me,” he says. His voice is quiet and firm and when Connor meets his eyes he’s all detached, no-nonsense business. No pity at all. “And out. In. And out. In. And out.”

It takes an embarrassingly long time for Connor to regain control of his breathing. Evan stays there, crouched beside him even when he’s breathing normally again. He doesn’t let go of his hand either, doesn’t do anything weird, just holds his hand and it’s nice, it’s good, something anchoring Connor to the moment.

“You’re good at that,” Connor says, after a while, when his eyes have stopped burning.
“Practice,” Evan says, going red. “You had a panic attack? That’s kind of my speciality. Don’t want to brag.”

Connor smiles; Evan beams back.

“Are you okay or do you want to sit here for a little bit longer?”
“Um,” Connor says. “Sit.”
“Okay,” says Evan. “Do you want me to talk or something?”
“Yeah, talking is good.”
“Okay,” says Evan. “Um. I got my cast off. I mean, you knew that but. So I had a shower without the plastic wrap? I’m sorry I don’t know why I thought that would be something you’d want to talk about, we were in your room and I said – I don’t, um. Okay, so I saw a really cool butterfly yesterday, it was white with black markings and I haven’t been able to find the species online, I mean I’ve probably just not described it very well but I like the idea of discovering something one day. That would be cool, right? But then they name it after you and I don’t think I’d like that. Maybe I could get them to name it after someone else? Like Jared. The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman butterfly or something? Or you, if you wanted a butterfly named after you, I could do that. Um, me and my mom watched the most recent Star Wars film last weekend, have you seen it? Sorry – nod or – shake – Oh, you should watch it, it’s really good but I wasn’t expecting the ending which I probably should have been because Jared said it was really obvious but I’m not a really big Star Wars fan, my mom was when she was younger? She grew up with it I guess. Hey, you okay?”

Connor nods. “Yeah, I’m good.” Now it’s awkward. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Evan says. He stands up and lets go of Connor’s hand. Connor stands up too, picks up his bag from the floor. “Do you want to go meet the others?”
“Yeah, I guess,” says Connor, mostly because he needs Zoe to get home.
“I think they’ve already gone in to see Ms Bee,” Evan says. He waits by the door as Connor splashes his face and washes his hands. “I’m kind of glad we don’t have to go in? Not that I’m glad you had a panic attack – I’m not, I’m really sorry, but I didn’t want to have to say anything and let them down, you know?”
“Yep,” says Connor.

Brian Harris and his friends have gone by the time they get out which is – great, because Connor’s probably accidentally started the school’s next big rumour. Maybe Evan isn’t well-known enough to be the subject of a big rumour; it’ll become Connor-focused – his quickie in the bathroom with some faceless guy who doesn’t even go to their school, wow, what a slut.

Evan keeps up a steady stream of chatter which Connor does not listen to until they reach Connor’s locker which is, for some reason, where all the others have stood to wait. Jared punches a hand in the air when he sees them.
“We have Bee!” he says.
“Hey, you okay?” Alana asks, touching Connor’s arm. He shrugs her off.
“Yeah, fine.”
“We’re gonna get ice cream,” Zoe says. “You guys in?”
“Yeah, fine,” Connor says. Evan nods.

She falls into step with them as they head out towards the car park.
“What happened?” she asks, lowly. Evan, Alana and Jared are ahead, discussing how they’re going to launch the support group.
“Brian Harris,” Connor says. She sighs. “I mean. I don’t know, I thought the meds were working. And I think I convinced Brian Harris that Evan is gay.”
“What?” Zoe says. “Sorry – we’ll do this in parts. The meds aren’t working?”
“I feel like,” he says. “I feel like I did before.”
“It’s not gonna be easy, Connor, it wasn’t gonna just stop,” Zoe says.
“I know,” Connor says. “But – you don’t. You don’t know you’re doing better until you’re not doing better, that’s. Look, whatever, you don’t fucking understand.”
“Make me understand then,” she says. “You didn’t realise you were doing better? Everyone else did.”
“Great, so I disappointed even more people.”
“For fuck’s sake Connor, one episode isn’t disappointing people.”
“Episode.”
“We’re not arguing about this,” Zoe says, firmly. “I’m not doing that. Why does Brian Harris think Evan is gay?”
“Oh,” Connor says. “I had a – a.” He says panic attack and he thinks about Larry, sitting him down to explain that sometimes things are difficult but we work through them because that’s what we, as men, do. “I was in the bathroom, I needed to be alone and Brian Harris came in because apparently mom’s told him to keep an eye on me? The last time we spoke before I tried to kill myself he shoved my head in a toilet, but – okay, we’re buddies now, apparently.”
“He shoved your head in a toilet?”
“Then Evan came in and I could deal with Evan but I needed Brian to go away so I pulled Evan into the cubicle with me and told Brian to fuck off.”
“Oh,” Zoe says. She shrugs. “Ah well. Chances are Brian doesn’t know who Evan is, so. Why did he shove your head in a toilet?”
“He said he was satisfying my death wish,” Connor says and then he overtakes her – accidentally because she’s stopped walking, on the first step out of school.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “He said what?”
“Guys!”

The other three have stopped by Jared’s car. Alana waves.
“You coming?” she calls. Zoe jabs a finger at Connor’s chest.
“This is not over.” Then, pitching her voice louder, “Yeah, sorry! ‘Lana, come with us!” She turns to Connor again, “you’re sitting in the backseat, buddy.”

Connor kind of expected that one. 

His mom is so happy when they get home that she doesn’t mind that Connor missed his curfew by two whole hours.

Larry is less impressed; he sits, scowling, at the kitchen table.
“When we give you a time, we expect you to be back here at that time. It’s not a suggestion.”
“Yeah, but dad – ” Zoe says and jerks her head at Connor. “Come on, he hasn’t been out in over two months?”
“Not a suggestion, Zoe,” Larry says, again. “You can both go up and start your homework now.”

Cynthia is busying herself organising the fridge. She doesn’t say anything, even when Zoe says, exasperated – “Mom!”

Connor really misses having a door to slam.

He gets halfway through his French homework – and then he has to finish catching up on Algebra and Biology but then, thank fuck, he’s done, he’s caught up, no more Alana-study-sessions – when Zoe knocks on the wall.
“Hey,” she says. “Can I come in?”
“Whatever,” he says. She hovers. “Yeah, okay.”
“Budge,” she tells him.
“Just sit on the bed,” he says.
“No,” she says. “Move.”

His dad found him there, after he took the pills. His mom’s thrown the sheets out, he thinks – he hasn’t seen them since, anyway.

He moves. She flops into the desk chair.
“So, you and Brian Harris really aren’t friends, huh?”
“What?” Connor says. “You mean all those years I told everyone we hated each other I wasn’t making it up? Fucking mindblowing.”
“Okay,” Zoe says. “I thought it was just Julie who was bad.”
“They’re both evil,” Connor says.
“Were the skiing trips your villain origin story, then?” Zoe says, and then she pauses, like she’s unsure whether she’s said something bad.

Connor thinks if anyone else had said it he’d be angry again but it’s Zoe and they’re talking. He smiles at her.
“You read my comic books, you want me to sign them for you?”

She laughs.
“How are we gonna get out of it this year?”
“I dunno,” Connor says. The thought of spending a week trapped on a mountain with his mom who treats him like he’s made of glass, Larry and the Harrises is just. “How long do I have until the suicide card expires?”
“You’ll be playing that one with mom forever,” she says. She swings round in his chair, dragging her foot against the carpet. “Nope, still don’t feel comfortable joking about it.”

Connor tries to think of something else they could talk about. Zoe fills it in for him –
“Do you reckon Alana likes girls?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re really unhelpful,” she tells him. “Can you find out?”
“Sure.”
“Like – don’t ask her. Just be subtle.”
“Right.”
“Sense it out.”
“Sense it out?” He almost laughs. “You sound like Kleinman.”
“Oh God,” she says, rolling her eyes. She swings back round in his chair. “Nah, I don’t think he’s that bad. He’s nice to Evan.”

Connor makes a face. The standard for people who are nice to Evan is appallingly low.

“Okay, he’s not nice but I think he’s very insecure. I think he just wants friends.”
“That’s lame,” Connor tells her.
“Takes one to know one,” she sing-songs. He flips her off, she pretends to wind up a wheel with her middle finger in response.

Larry knocks on the wall.
“You guys doing homework?”
“Yeah,” Zoe says, sliding off the chair. “Just came to ask Connor what enjambment means.”

She winks at him as he leaves, like they’re in it together. It’s nice. 

From: Alana.Beck

Evan had a good idea in Bio today!!

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Evan had one (1) good idea

From: Connor_Murphy

Do you ever get tired of being a dick?

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

1 – do u ever get tired of sucking dick

2 – u cannot talk u r a horrible horrible person

From: Evan_Hansen

Jared!

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

You are a horrible horrible person who has value don’t try and kill yourself again

Better?

From: Evan_Hansen

Oh my god

Jared

Connor???

From: JazzBandJazZoe

It’s fine he knows he’s a horrible horrible person

Dad just realised he was on his phone

We’re meant to be bonding as a family

From: Alana.Beck

I’m starting to think this group chat was a very bad idea

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Starting?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

What was Evan’s good idea?

From: Alana.Beck

For a name for the support group

From: Evan_Hansen

Oh no Alana please don’t

Sorry but it’s really stupid!

From: Alana.Beck

You Will Be Found

From: JazzBandJazZoe

That’s a really nice idea

I like that a lot

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Does it work as a name for a group tho?

From: Alana.Beck

What if we use it as a hashtag?

For our social media presence

From: Connor_Murphy

Our what?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Also our mom and dad like that name lol

Well mom does

Dad said hmmm

From: Connor_Murphy

Our what Alana??

From: Alana.Beck

Our social media presence Connor

From: Connor_Murphy

That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Can I be in charge of it?

From: Connor_Murphy

Changed my mind that’s the worst idea

From: Alana.Beck

Yeah sorry Jared but I think I’m going to run it at least until we get it off the ground

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Does anyone else think Alana has control issues?

From: Connor_Murphy

Kleinman change your fucking handle it’s really annoying

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Connor if we’re not on social media we will be able to affect very little change

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Woah Alana’s cloned herself

From: Alana.Beck

Thank you Zoe!

I know you don’t like it Connor but it is important most teens are on at least one social media platform and it’s a good way of generating and sharing information!

From: Connor_Murphy

You know how you said you cared about my opinions?

Is it only when they match yours?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Wow Connor

Ignore him Alana he just had a fight with our dad

Alana?

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Way 2 go Murphy

To: Alana Beck

I didn’t mean that

From: Alana Beck

Yes you did but it’s fine

I need to let go

It’s just that I’ve been thinking about this for years. I kind of had a plan

To: Alana Beck

What was the plan?

From: Alana Beck

Social media presence

To: Alana Beck

Why?

From: Alana Beck

It’s easier to be anonymous. Sometimes you need that, when you want advice or just to talk to someone.

To: Alana Beck

Anonymous?

From: Alana Beck

Yeah

Look I really am sorry about the Connor Project

I give you permission to refuse the publication of any information or images pertaining to your person

To: Alana Beck

So in normal human speak?

From: Alana Beck

I shouldn’t have done the Connor Project I did genuinely think you would be happy about it

To: Alana Beck

You do not know me very well

From: Alana Beck

I know. I wouldn’t do something like that now.

So if we put the support group on social media, you get to decide when and if we release anything with you in it. You don’t have to be named, you don’t have to have your photo taken. You can be completely anonymous.

To: Alana Beck

Ok

From: Alana Beck

Really?

To: Alana Beck

yes

but you can’t try and change my mind

if I say I don’t want to talk about something I don’t want to talk about it ok?

From: Alana Beck

Okay

To: Alana Beck

Btw

Are you interested in girls?

From: Alana Beck

Nice segue

Yeah, I’m gay

To: Alana Beck

Lol does that mean Evan’s the only straight one

From: Alana Beck

Wait what about Zoe?

To: Alana Beck

She’s pan

From: Alana Beck

Cool

Cool

Does she have a bf/gf?

To: Alana Beck

Fucking hell

Just text her ok 

“I told you to sense it out!” Zoe hisses, the next morning, when she passes him on her way to the bathroom.
“What?”
“By the way do you like girls? Jeez Connor, could you have made it more obvious? Anyway, I’m going out with her next weekend.”
“You’re welcome?”

She blows a raspberry at him and kicks the bathroom door shut.

Cynthia is the only one downstairs, humming as she fills the coffee pot.
“Good morning,” she says. “Set the table?”

He takes the plates from her and sets them out and then goes back for the cutlery and then he says,
“Could we make. Another appointment with Dr West for this weekend?”
“Why?” she says, immediately nervous. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Connor says, carefully. He’s trying to – He’s trying to try. That’s going to have to be enough for now. “I just. I didn’t feel so good on Tuesday.”
“Okay,” she says. “I’ll call her after breakfast, okay? Saturday or Sunday?”
“Either, whatever.”
“Okay,” she says. She smiles at him. “Maybe you and Zoe could have your friends round this weekend?”
“Maybe,” Connor says, vaguely.
“I think a support group is such a nice idea.”
“Sure,” Connor says. “Nice.”
“Do, um. Do any of them – have –”
“A mental illness?” Connor suggests, flatly. “Yeah, because it’s an actual thing.”
“I know, Con.”
“Could you maybe let Larry in on the secret.”
“Don’t do that,” she says, drawing back. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong if you just snap at me.”
“’Cos it just happens sometimes,” he says, but he’s been saying it since he was fifteen and they’re not gonna get it.
“Okay well we’ll talk to Dr West.”
“That’s not what I want to talk to her about,” Connor says but now he doesn’t want to talk to her about anything, he just wants to go to bed.

Zoe and Larry are coming down the stairs together – Larry’s saying something and then Zoe laughs and Connor can’t leave.

To: Evan Hansen

Tell me something cool about trees

From: Evan Hansen

Because of its amazing size some people believe the Giant Sequoia is the largest living organism in the world! 

From: Alana.Beck

Hey do you guys want to meet up this afternoon and talk about the support group?

We could maybe do homework together?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Sounds good!

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Yeah sure

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Me n Connor can come after therapy?

From: Connor_Murphy

Or?? You could not tell anyone I’m in therapy?

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Everyone knows

We literally became friends when u tried to kill yourself

From: Connor_Murphy

We are not friends Kleinman

From: Evan_Hansen

Hey no one cares if you’re in therapy it’s good for you!

But you shouldn’t be texting during it

From: Connor_Murphy

I’m not

From: Alana.Beck

Yeah no one cares!

From: JazzBandJazZoe

We’ve all been in therapy so??

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Why u in a bad mood Murphy?

From: Connor_Murphy

I’m not

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Thought u were gon be like ‘I’m always in a bad mood fuck the police’

From: Alana.Beck

Okay I’m gonna be in the Starbucks on Acre in 20 mins if you guys want to join whenever?

 When he leaves Dr West’s, he texts Zoe to go on to meet Alana and Jared without him. He wants to go to bed. Dr West wouldn’t let him switch medications, she said she was hopeful about this working out if he gave it a little longer to adjust. He’s tired of his head.

Cynthia lets him go straight upstairs when they get home without trying to stop him so maybe he looks pretty bad as well. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t care.

He falls asleep almost immediately and when he wakes up, Alana’s sitting on the end of his bed.
“Wha’ the fu’?” he says, into his pillow. She looks at him.
“Hey, you’re awake.”
“Hey!” says Evan, from somewhere to his right.

He rolls over – Zoe’s sitting on his desk chair with her headphones in; Jared’s lying across the floor by her feet, tapping at his phone; Evan’s cross-legged by the window.

“What are you –?”
“Zo said you were having a bad day, so.”
“Yeah, fuck you Murphy, we can be friends if I want us to be,” Jared says. “Fuck yeah new high score!”
“Hey, will you proofread my essay when I’m done with it?” Alana says. “I’ll do yours, if you’ve finished it.”

He hasn’t even started any of his homework. It’s piling up on his desk beside Zoe’s Geometry textbook.
“Okay,” he says, pulling the blanket back up over his head. Alana tugs it down.
“You’ll overheat if you do that,” she says. “Also we’ve decided that we’re gonna start with Facebook and a blog and the url is going to be youwillbefound. You good with that?”

He gives her a thumbs up.

“I still think we should have Instagram,” Jared says.
“No,” Alana says. “Because Connor and Evan don’t want pictures and to be perfectly honest, I’d rather not be in front of a camera either.”
“Zoe and I can be your models.”
“People would block us,” Connor mutters. Evan snorts and then tries to pretend he didn’t.
“I just think I have a really good idea for a photo, okay?” Jared says. “We fill a bath with bathbombs but no water, right? And I’m lying in there surrounded by them.”
“What is wrong with you?” Zoe says, tugging out an earbud.
“We could pour water on all the bathbombs simultaneously and see what happened.”
“I vote we kick Jared out of the group,” Zoe says.
“Ay,” Connor says.
“Veto,” says Evan. Jared leans over for a fistbump.
“Are we doing vetos for definite, then?” Alana demands. “We have not voted on vetos!”
“Ay for vetos?” Zoe says. “Ay.”
“Ay,” says Evan.
“Ay,” says Alana.
“Ay,” says Jared.

Connor mumbles something into his pillow – he’s falling asleep again. Alana pats his knee.
“I don’t know what you said, but you’re outvoted if you said nay. Evan’s veto is intact, Jared remains.”
“Why don’t you ever threaten to kick anyone else out of the group?” Jared says.

Then Connor falls asleep. 

Thanksgiving is shit because Connor tells his parents that he does not want to and does not intend to go on the skiing trip this Christmas.

Larry tells him it’s not up to him; Cynthia says maybe it’s time we start listening to what he says. Larry says, maybe it’s time he starts doing what he’s told.

Zoe sits at the end of the table, her hands tight around her cutlery. Connor sits at the other end of the table until his temper snaps like fucking elastic and then he smashes the bowl his mom put the cranberry sauce in and he cuts his palm on the shards and Larry sends him to his room and Connor scratches at the back of his hand until both of his hands are covered in blood.

Then he’s not angry anymore, just tired and numb. Cynthia comes in a little while later. Her eyes are puffy and she puts band aids across Connor’s hands and he just sits on his bed and watches the sun set.

Zoe comes in at half eight.
“We’re not going on the trip,” she says. Connor wants to fall through the bed and disappear. “I told dad about what Brian Harris said to you.”
“When?” Connor says, tiredly.
“About your death wish.”
“Oh.”

He’s tired.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Zoe says.
“Yeah,” he says.
“Do you want me to get you something? You didn’t eat.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“Okay but the websites say it’s important that you eat.”
“Websites?”

The floorboard creaks as she comes further into the room. “I did research, you know? Your brother tries to kill himself, you research the reason he did.”
“Oh,” Connor says.
“Maybe I should print out a few things and give them to Dad.” She’s aiming for a joke but it’s not funny right now. He shuts his eyes. “Hey, Alana texted me. She wished me a good Thanksgiving.”
“I’m glad,” he says.
“Are you gonna sleep?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay,” she says.

When she’s gone, he feels around in the blanket for his phone. The light is very bright, very quickly – squinting, he unlocks it. Five new messages –

From: Alana Beck

Happy Thanksgiving Connor! Hope you have a good day xx

From: Jared Kleinman

Yo Murphy have a good one

From: Evan Hansen

Happy Thanksgiving Connor

My therapist told me I should try and think of things I’m thankful for (like the letters I think she thinks it’ll help with my self-esteem) and I’m thankful I met you

That was weird sorry

He clicks his phone off. For some reason he keeps thinking of Evan Hansen sat at a table texting I’m thankful I met you and then for some reason he kind of wants to cry and then for some reason he actually does.

Then Larry comes in while Connor’s still red-eyed and sniffing into his pillow. He sits on the end of the bed and claps a hand on Connor’s shoulder, because they’re men.
“I didn’t know you and Brian Harris didn’t get on. You were always such good friends.”
“When we were five,” Connor says. “I was friends with the next door neighbour’s cat when I was five.”
“Yeah,” Larry says. “You grew up pretty quickly.”
“I dunno, I think twelve years is kind of hard to miss.”
“We’re not going to go on the trip.”
“Okay.”
“I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I’m relieved.”
“Connor,” Larry says, sharply, but he doesn’t actually continue. Connor’s not crying anymore, at least. Larry sits there with him for a while, watching him quietly, and then he squeezes Connor’s shoulder, gets up and goes.

 They only have one week left of term and Alana is all ready to launch their blog in time for the holidays which is the most difficult time of the year, did you not know that? Connor is behind on work again because November was just – shit.

The meds have stabilised though, and he’s beginning to feel less tired and when Jared suggests they all go to the Christmas fair together he only rolls his eyes twice and says he’ll go anyway, so. Baby steps.

Zoe picks Alana up on the way, which means Connor has to sit in the backseat again, which is unfair because Alana’s legs are not as long and he has pins and needles when they finally find a parking spot. He’s just been looping one song on repeat with his headphones on so he doesn’t have to hear them being disgusting in the front, cooing to each other about how great they both look and singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio.

“Murphys! Alan-aaaaa!”
“He’s already had so much sugar, oh my God,” Alana says, cringing. Evan is wearing a blue beanie and blue mittens and a massive black scarf and he’s kind of laughing at Jared, bouncing up and down and waving as they approach the gate. “Hansen! You had one job – ”
“Sorry,” Evan says, flushing beneath all the knitwear.
“It’s fine,” Zoe laughs, nudging him with her elbow. “We’ll take turns babysitting.”
“He wants to go on the rollercoaster,” Evan says. “So, I’ll take the next turn, if that’s okay? I don’t really like heights,” he says, kind of trailing off and kind of talking to Connor because the other three aren’t listening.
“Okay,” Connor says. He takes hold of Evan’s arm. “Bye Zo, have fun with Kleinman. Text us when you’re done.”

Zoe calls after him, mock-outraged. Evan follows him, tripping a little bit over his own feet until Connor lets go of him and he can fall into step.
“How are you?” he asks.
“Fine,” says Connor, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He’s got a scab where he cut himself on the bowl at Thanksgiving. It’s probably going to scar. “You?”
“Okay,” Evan says, nodding. “I like the lights, and the Christmas tree.”
“I bet you like the Christmas tree,” Connor says. Evan grins down at the floor. “Are you not a Christmas person or something?”
“I dunno,” Evan says. “I like it, but I think it makes my mom feel bad, so we never make a big thing out of it.”
“Why does it make your mom feel bad?”
“Because she can’t do this kind of thing with me,” Evan says. He’d spent Thanksgiving on his own – Connor hadn’t realised until later. He shrugs. “It’s not so bad, I guess. She has Christmas Eve until Boxing Day off this year, so it’ll be fun, I hope.”
“That’s nice,” Connor says. Evan twists his mittens round and round.
“She wants to meet you guys.”
“What? Me?”
“Yeah, and Zoe and Alana. She already knows Jared, so.”
“Oh,” says Connor. That means that Evan has talked about them, about him to his mom who he adores. “Does she – I mean, did you tell her about the – ”
“Sorry,” Evan whispers. “Was I not supposed to?”
“It’s fine,” Connor says. “It’s just. There’s no coming back from that first impression, right?”

He imagines Heidi Hansen meeting him and then telling Evan that they can’t spend time together anymore and he doesn’t –

“She’ll like you,” Evan says. “I think she’s just so glad I have friends.”
“She’d like my mom too, then,” Connor says, bitterly. “My mom cried when Alana called herself my friend.”

Evan laughs, weakly. They walk around for a bit until Connor’s hands start to hurt and then he buys them both cocoa because neither of them are supposed to have coffee and Evan actually doesn’t have coffee.

“Can I ask a question?” Evan asks. He has foam across his upper lip. Connor reaches out and wipes it off and then says,
“Yeah, shoot.”
“Um,” says Evan. He’s staring at Connor, big eyes and his mouth slightly open.
“What?”
“Um. When did you get diagnosed?”
“Oh.”
“I mean, you don’t have to – I was just asking, but it’s a really personal question – ”
“Everyone knew I was fucked up from second grade or something. Larry was very opposed to any kind of therapy until rehab, which was when I was – fifteen and then again when I was sixteen.”
“That’s really young.”
“Yeah, Larry was mad about it.”
“When did you start painting your nails?”
“What the fuck? I don’t know, maybe like two years ago.”
“Sorry,” says Evan. Then he says, “what are you doing about college?”
“I don’t know,” Connor says. “No, I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Okay,” Evan says. “Hey, take these.”

He takes Connor’s Styrofoam cup off him, puts it down on the picnic table beside them, tugs the mittens off his hands and puts them on Connor’s.

“Would you get a tattoo?” he asks, passing Connor his cup back like nothing really weird just happened.
“Yeah, maybe?” Connor says. “Um – your – ”
“You look cold,” Evan says. “I’m fine.” His face is pink. It’s still weird but if he doesn’t drop it, Evan might cry or something so. “What would you get?”
“Something that would piss off Kleinman,” Connor says, to make Evan laugh. It works.

When they meet the others by the Christmas tree with forty minutes to go until Connor’s missed curfew, they’ve swapped the mittens for Evan’s hat. Zoe laughs and points when she sees, Alana says,
“That’s adorable.”
“That’s gay,” says Jared, who is clearly coming down from his sugar high.
“Come on, I wanna take a photo,” says Zoe.
“No,” says Connor.
“Not for the blog, just for me. And maybe Instagram, if it’s cute and if Jared doesn’t have his eyes closed.”
“We’ve taken so many pictures and Jared has his eyes closed in all of them,” Alana explains. “He’s cursed, probably.”

They all cram into the frame – well, Jared and Alana and Zoe cram and Connor and Evan are pushed into place beside them.

“Oh my God, Murphy, smile.”
“Jared your eyes are closed again!”
“’Lana, your hair looks pretty with the lights behind them like that.”
“Gay!”
“Obviously, Jared.”
“Connor, you’re gonna smile this time or I’m gonna tell mom you crushed her prize roses falling out your window.”
“You fell out a window – ”
“Evan! Don’t move! It’s all blurry now.”
“Sorry.”
“He didn’t fall, he was high.”
“Why do all your stories about Connor end with he was high.”
“Because he spent most of his time high for, like, three years.”
“Say cheese!”

Alana and Zoe peer at the screen together. Evan smiles sheepishly at Connor.

“Okay, give me your approval and I’ll put it on Instagram.”

Jared’s eyes are, miraculously, open, but so’s his mouth, like he’s mid conversation. Zoe and Alana have their heads tilted towards each other, red-cheeked and beaming. Evan’s smiling next to Alana and next to Evan, Connor looks only mildly pissed off.

“Whatever,” he says.
“Aw, he loves it,” Zoe says, laughing. “Send me a copy, or put it on the group or something.”
“Veto, veto, I look like a moron!” Jared says.
“You don’t get a veto, you ate all the churros,” Alana says. Zoe checks her phone again.
“Actually, we’ve got to go or dad’ll flip. Bye –” She leans in and presses a kiss to Alana’s mouth so apparently they’re doing that and Connor didn’t need to see it. “Bye guys, hey, Ev, I’ll text you, okay?”
“See you Monday,” Alana says, giving Connor a one-armed hug as he passes her. Jared flips him off; Connor pulls the hat off his head and holds it out for Evan to take.
“Thanks,” he says. Evan smiles at him and his fingers brush against Connor’s as he curls them into the hat.

It’s nice.

 From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

im probably going 2 die a virgin just letting u know

From: Connor_Murphy

We already knew that

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Why Jared?

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Got my fortune told at the fair today

Went back 4 the churros

The fortune teller said

From: Connor_Murphy

Oh my god that’s actually pathetic???

From: Alana.Beck

We could set you up with someone if you want Jared?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Who?

From: Alana.Beck

Which guys do we know like guys?

From: JazzBandJazZoe

Um

Connor lol

Jason Mahini

Jared

From: Connor_Murphy

I would rather stab myself in the eye with a rusty fork

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

U can’t set me up with myself???

U guys are the worst jsyk

Hey Hansen if we’re both 30 and still virgins do u wanna bang?

From: Evan_Hansen

NO?????

JARED!!!!!!

I’M NEVER GOING TOHAVE SEX EVER OH MY GO D NOT WITH YOU!!!! DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT!!!!

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Lolz I can hear u hyperventilating from over here

Also – rude?

I’m a catch

From: Connor_Murphy

The only time someone would say you were a catch is if your corpse had been thrown in a lake and a fisherman caught hold of you with his hook

From: JazzBandJazZoe

So extra?

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Fuck all of you

Except you Hansen bc apparently u don’t want a piece of this

From: Evan_Hansen

JARED STOP!!!!!!!

From: Alana.Beck

Anyway I don’t mind telling you guys that I’m a virgin as well but I think the concept is quite damaging because a woman is not defined by her sexuality and the idea that she only becomes a valid member of society when she starts to participate in sex is a major contributing factor to why women are not judged by their brains etc. in the same way they are by their “sex appeal”

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Look I stopped reading after u said ‘damaging’ bc I got bored but I agree

From: JazzBandJazZoe

I agree Alana! It’s so damaging especially for young girls

From: Alana.Beck

Especially!!!!

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Hey Murphy real question

From: Connor_Murphy

No.

From: TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman

Have you ever sucked dick for meth

Connor_Murphy removed TheInsanelyCoolJaredKleinman from the chat

From: Connor_Murphy

That’s my Christmas present to you guys so you’re welcome 

On New Year’s Eve, Larry and Cynthia go to the Harris’s New Year Party and Zoe and Connor are left – blissfully – alone.

Well, not alone.

Alana spent the day with them, painting Connor’s nails and trying to beat Zoe at Dance Dance Revolution.

Evan’s mom’s working so Evan comes round at half nine with lemonade and he looks honestly shocked when he sees that both Connor and Zoe have been drinking.  

Jared comes round at half ten, in a massive puffer coat that makes him look like a marshmallow so Zoe makes him stand in the hall until she’s gotten a photo where her hand isn’t shaking with laughter.

They play board games until half eleven when Zoe finds the TV remote and puts on the news on mute so they can watch the ball drop.

Evan doesn’t seem to really like board games and Connor’s getting tired so they move up to the couch and Evan brings up a folder full of tree pictures on his phone just to prove he has it and then Connor makes him go through them all while Zoe and Alana shriek at Jared for cheating.
“And this is technically a cactus but look, isn’t it pretty?”
“So pretty,” Connor agrees, eyes closed. Evan Hansen’s shoulder is really comfortable – who knew. Evan’s still talking about trees – it’s possible he hasn’t actually noticed that Connor’s falling asleep against him, but it’s – nice, it’s – warm –

“Six, five, four – ”

Zoe’s shaking him awake and handing him a bunch of confetti to throw at midnight instead of party poppers, which Evan hates. Evan’s laughing at something Jared’s said, clutching his own handful of confetti. He isn’t even slightly flushed so maybe he didn’t mind that Connor spent the last half hour asleep on him.

Alana pulls him to his feet and then –

“Three, two, one, Happy New Year!”

She kisses Zoe first as Jared shakes the rest of the confetti free of the bag Zoe bought it in and it goes everywhere, little scraps of coloured paper floating down like rain. He gives Evan a one-armed hug and then Zoe gives Evan a hug and Alana gives Connor a hug, squeezing him tight. Jared doesn’t try to hug him which is good because – They’re not there.

Zoe does though. It’s quick and one-armed and she’s looking at Alana flinging her arms around Evan’s waist but she hugs him, it’s the first time in years and years, and when she pulls back she lets him brush confetti off her shoulders.

“I want to take a photo,” she says, when she’s hugged Jared and that’s everybody. “Stop whining, Kleinman.”

He ends up pressed against Evan who is a little pink now and he smells nice, like lemons and laundry soap. When Jared, Alana and Zoe start arguing about which photo is the best and which one they each get to put up on Instagram, Evan steps quickly forward and gives Connor a hug.
“Happy New Year,” he says, into Connor’s shoulder. “I hope it’s really good for you, you deserve it.”

Connor stares at him. Stupid Evan Hansen and the stupid things he says – it’s Thanksgiving all over again, he wants to cry. He nods because he can’t say anything in case his voice breaks and Evan smiles at him, nervous.

They have to hurry them all out at quarter to one. Jared’s driving the three of them back – Zoe runs out with Connor’s hoodie over her shoulders to blow kisses at them as the car backs up the road and then disappears round the corner.

“You want tea?” she says, when she’s shut the door behind her.
“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” he says. She smiles at him.
“Okay. Happy New Year, Con.”
“Happy New Year Zo.”

She sends him a whole bunch of photos while he’s brushing his teeth – Alana in a feather boa doing Dance Dance Revolution, Alana frowning over the nail polish, Jared in his coat, Alana and Jared crouched over Snakes and Ladders, Connor asleep on Evan’s shoulder –

Connor turns his phone off pretty quickly after that and goes straight to sleep.