Evan Hansen's alarm rang.

The seventeen-year-old was already up, but he still moaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He put on a decent shirt and jeans, with a sharpie in his pocket, and headed off to school.

Heidi, his mom, called him on the bus just to make sure he was there. Evan spent the rest of the bus ride thinking about Zoe Murphy. He loved her. But he'd never even talked to her.

Shut up, Evan, he thought furiously. Zoe would never like him. That was a fact.

At school, everyone parted in the halls for someone Evan had grown to avoid: Connor Murphy. Zoe's older brother. The only person who didn't pretend to be busy was Jared Kleinman, Evan's family friend.

"Hey, Connor," Jared said, struggling to keep a straight face. "I'm loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic."

Connor whipped around to face Jared.

"I was joking," Jared said anxiously once he saw the look on Connor's face.

"Yeah, no, it was funny," Connor said in a monotone. "I'm laughing. Can't you tell? Am I not laughing hard enough for you?"

Jared laughed nervously. "You're such a freak," he sneered.

Evan laughed too, but quietly, because he was uncomfortable.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" Connor shouted.

"What?" Evan asked dumbly.

"Stop fucking laughing at me," he demanded.

"I'm not," Evan said defensively.

"You think I'm a freak?"

"No," Evan stammered anxiously.

"You're the fucking freak." With that, Connor shoved Evan to the ground.

The push was harder than Connor had realized and Evan hit the ground with a thud. His cast-arm hit the ground painfully and Evan moaned.

Before Evan knew it, Zoe Murphy was leaning over him, offering him a hand up.

"I'm so sorry about my brother," she said. "He's a psychopath. Evan, right?"

"What?"

"Is your name Evan?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I don't know." Evan grinned stupidly.

At the computer lab, Evan snatched some time alone to write his letter for Dr. Sherman.

Dear Evan Hansen:

It turns out, this wasn't an amazing day after all. This isn't going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because…why would it be?

Oh. I know. Because there's Zoe. Who I don't even know and who doesn't know me. But maybe if I did. Maybe if I could just talk to her, then maybe…maybe nothing would be different at all.

I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was a part of…something. I wish that anything I said…mattered, to anyone. I mean, face it: would anybody even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?

Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,

Me.

Evan flinched as Connor Murphy's footsteps echoed behind him.

"Hey," Connor said. "Evan Hansen, right? Sorry about earlier. Can I sign your cast?"

"Sure," Evan sighed, and handed Connor his sharpie.

CONNOR. Now a whole side of Evan's cast was written on.

"I found this letter in the printer. Dear Evan Hansen. You, right?"

"Yeah," Evan said.

"Wait. Because there's Zoe. Is this about my sister?"

"No," Evan stuttered. "No, it's a therapy assignment."

But Connor shoved him again. "You freak. You wrote this so I would freak out, and you can tell everyone I'm crazy, right?"

Evan didn't know what to say. "I don't think you're crazy," Evan said quietly.

Connor shot him a questioning look, then kept reading. And reading. Evan was just about ready to snatch it from him when Connor sighed.

"You're a survivor too," he said slowly.

"W-what makes y-you say th-that?" Evan stuttered.

"The letter. It's basically a suicide note to yourself," Connor noted.

"I-I guess," Evan said.

The lunch bell rang loudly. For some reason, Evan felt strangely at ease.

"Do you want to sit with me?" Connor asked.

"O-of course!" Evan said enthusiastically.

Connor didn't know why he had asked, or why Evan had agreed. But Connor knew what Evan was going through, he had tried to kill himself once as well. So if he could save Evan—if he could provide a good reason for Evan to keep himself alive—maybe it would all be worth it.

"Hey, Evan," Connor said, as he sat down. "Sorry about earlier, again. I promise I'm not a school shooter or a psychopath like everyone says I am."

"I-I believe you," Evan said.

"Really?" Connor asked.

"Yeah," Evan said. "I hate it when people just assume things about. Um. Other people."

The boys actually had a decent time at lunch. After lunch, Connor nodded his head towards the exit. "I'll see you later, Evan."

"Where are you going?" Evan asked, with genuine curiosity.

"The woods," Connor answered. "You don't want to come with me, though, honestly."

"What will you do there?" Evan already knew the answer, and dreaded it, but he couldn't stop himself asking.

"Smoke," Connor said, shrugging. "You can come with if you want, but you're too pretty to smoke."

"H-how do you know?" Evan asked ridiculously.

"I said. You're too pretty to smoke, Hansen. You've probably never touched a cigarette in your life."

It was true.

"Anyway, Hansen, I'll catch you later, all right?"

All right, Evan thought, but Connor was already gone.