After school finally ended, Connor went to look for Evan to apologize.
I mean he already hates me, what's the worst that can happen?
He thought as he poked his head into the theater, where the drama kids were chatting.
As he walked down the hall, looking into a classroom every few paces, he rehearsed his apology, whispering softly.
"Hey, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for-"
He paused.
What am I apologizing for? Yelling at him? pushing him?
"For being a dick earlier."
He shook his head as he turned a corner, nearly colliding with someone else. He turned to see who it was, and was surprised to see Jared, who had barely glanced at him and was walking away, his nose buried in a book.
"Hey!"
Connor called, running to catch up with him.
Jared turned his head, raising his eyebrows and stopping.
"What do you want?"
He said, rolling his eyes and returning to his book.
"Do you know where Evan is?"
Jared looked up at him sharply.
"What, did you not think pushing him once was enough?"
He asked mockingly, closing his book.
Connor glared at him.
"Just tell me where he is."
He said shortly.
"Whatever, I would try the computer lab. He spends a lot of time in there."
Jared replied, opening his book and walking away.
Connor shook his head and started walking
towards the computer lab.
He had spent a lot of time in there a year or two ago, although not for the reasons most other people had.
Please be here,
He thought as he opened the door softly.
He scanned the room for Evan, craning his neck to see over all the cubicles before spotting a blue shirt.
He took a deep breath and went over what he was going to say quickly.
Heyevanimsorryipushedyputhatwasadickmove
He nodded and started making his way around the desks.
He paused when he heard someone muttering .
Peeking his head around the corner, he saw Evan, hunched over one of the computers, gesturing wildly with his hands, and talking softly to himself.
What the hell?
Connor thought to himself, looking around to see if there was anyone else in the room.
His eyes landed on a piece of paper coming out of the printer.
That's gotta be his, I'll just give it to him and apologize.
He thought, grabbing the paper and walking swiftly around the corner, colliding with Evan, who had apparently finished his conversation, knocking them both to the floor.
He untangled himself from Evan and stood up, offering his hand to the boy on the floor.
Evan looked up at him questioningly for a moment, before slowly reaching out his hand and letting Connor pull him up.
He bent over to pick up his backpack off the floor, and Connor noticed that he had a cast on
Shit did he have that before?
He thought, panicking for a moment before realizing that
Of course he had it, I didn't break his arm.
He noticed that no one had signed the cast.
"What happened to your arm?"
He asked, folding his arms so Evan wouldn't see the piece of paper.
"I uh, fell out of a tree."
Evan replied, nodding to himself and cradling his arm.
There was an awkward silence.
Connor noticed that Evan was carrying a marker. He suddenly felt sorry for him, realizing that he probably didn't have many friends
"Can I sign it?"
He asked, reaching for Evan's
arm.
Evan held out out his hand and gave him the marker.
Connor put the cap between his teeth and pulled the marker out, before writing his name in giant letters.
He capped the marker and handed it back to Evan, who looked surprised as he tucked the marker into his backpack.
Connor offered him a small smile before saying,
"There. Now we can both pretend we have a friend."
He said, sounding harsher than he'd meant to.
Evan smiled back.
"Yeah,"
He replied somewhat sadly, looking down at his shoes.
Connor remember the paper and held it out to him.
"Is this yours? I saw it and-"
His eye caught on the word "Zoe",
And he frowned, pulling the paper back and reading out loud, getting angrier.
"What is this?"
He asked Evan, who looked like he was shrinking into himself.
"Uh, it's a- um-"
Evan stammered.
Connor took a step closer to him, and he stumbled back, tripping over his own foot and falling onto the floor.
He looked up at Connor helplessly,
And another wave of pity rolled over him.
He shoved the paper into his pocket, and stormed out of the room, running out of the school. He knew Zoe had jazz band after school and wouldn't be leaving for a couple of hours, and started walking home.
It was a twenty-minute drive, so he knew walking would take a while.
Plenty of time to wallow in regret,
He thought, rolling his eyes and slinging his bag over his neck.
Evan got up from the floor.
Third time today,
He thought as he gathered his things.
That's gotta be a record,
He slung his backpack over his shoulders and walked out of the room.
He sat down on a ledge in front of the school, waiting for his mom, who was supposed to pick him up for therapy.
He checked his phone for the time and looked around. No car in sight.
Thirty minutes late.
He sighed and hopped off the ledge, turning to walk home. Thankfully he only lived about ten minutes away on foot, so he would have to walk that far.
He reached the door, he fumbled for his keys.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside,
Dropping his backpack by the door and walking into the kitchen.
His mom had left money for him to order food, but ordering food required talking on the phone, and eventually talking to someone at the door. His stomach flipped at the thought.
He checked the fridge.
There was a bottle of ketchup and a package of cheese. He closed the fridge and glanced at the money, shaking his head.
Guess I'm not eating dinner.
He resigned, opening the fridge again and grabbing a piece of cheese before jogging up the stairs to his room.
He slumped onto the bed and opened his computer, checking his email, not surprised to find it empty.
He remembered that he was supposed to have written a letter for his therapist,
Since Connor took it.
He opened up notes and started writing.
It was supposed to be a positive letter, but at the moment, Evan definitely didn't feel positive, and gave up after a couple of minutes.
Not like it actually matters,
Thought to himself, closing the computer and setting it on his nightstand.
He turned off the lamp and curled up on his bed, closing his eyes.
Zoe could smell the weed before she walked in the door.
If you're going to smoke pot,
She thought angrily as she unlocked the door and walked in,
The least you can do is not smoke it in the fucking house.
She dropped her backpack by the door, and walked upstairs with her guitar case.
"Connor!"
She called as she reached the top of the stairs.
No answer.
Probably passed out on the bathroom floor.
She thought bitterly.
The smell got stronger as she got closer to the bathroom.
She sighed and walked into her room, setting down the case and heading to the bathroom.
She paused in front of the door and took a deep breath, shouldering open the door.
She couldn't see much at first, the smoke was pretty thick, but after a moment her eyes adjusted and found Connor - who was, exactly as she'd guessed - passed out on the floor, a piece of crumpled paper in his hand.
He's gonna kill himself one of these days,
She thought as she stepped out of the bathroom to take another breath, and then walked over to Connor, hooked her hands under his arms, and dragged out of the bathroom and into the hallway.
She propped him against the wall and went back into the bathroom. She opened the windows of the room and turned on the fan, before walking out and closing he door behind her. She slapped his cheek gently, just to make sure he was still alive.
His eyes fluttered open for a moment,
Before they rolled back into his head and he moaned softly.
Zoe rolled her eyes and hooked her hands under his arms again, dragging him through the hallway and into his room, where she laid him down on the floor.
As she looked back at him before walking out of the room,
She felt a fleeting surge of pity, which was quickly replaced by anger.
Why is it my job to make sure you don't kill your self?
She thought, slamming the door behind her and walking back to the bathroom to throw away whatever drugs he'd left.
She paused when she heard a crinkle under her feet, looking down to see the paper that Connor had been holding.
She picked it up, quickly skimming through it, catching her name.
What is this?
She wondered.
It was addressed to Evan Hansen.
The boy he pushed?
Is this a suicide note?
He didn't look like he was trying to kill himself, but you never knew with Connor.
He'd slit his wrists in ninth grade, and they'd managed to get him to the hospital before he'd bled out, but he hadn't tried since then.
She remembered being yelled at afterwards by her parents, because she'd been at home with him when it had happened.
Like it was my fault Connor's an idiot.
She'd thought to herself.
She shook her head, clearing away the memory, before shoving the letter in her pocket and returning to the cabinet to throw out Connor's drugs.
He often got angry at her for doing this, screaming at her through her locked door.
She did it anyway, partly to piss him off, and partly because if anyone else found the drugs, their family could be ripped apart, and partly, though she wouldn't admit it, because she knew he didn't care about his own life, and someone had to. It was unfortunate though, that that job fell to her.
She dug around in the cabinets, pausing when she saw a bottle of pills that her dad had been taking for his back. She looked at it for a moment before shaking her head and started digging around again, eventually finding the bag of weed that Connor had stashed in the back of the cabinet.
She opened the bag and dumped it out the window, throwing the now empty bag in the trash.
She returned to the cabinet, pausing again when she saw the pills.
I could do it.
She thought to herself.
She knew her parents wouldn't be home for a long time, and who knew when Connor would wake up.
She grabbed the bottle and unscrewed the lid.
Let him find me passed out for once.
She thought bitterly,
I'm done.
She decided, walking to her room
and shutting the door behind her.