Chapter Text
Monday, August 28, 2017 6:42 AM
Dear Friend:
Would you say that we are actually friends? I just mean, if we knew each other in real life and I had to introduce you to someone, would you cringe or recoil or hurt yourself trying to correct me if I called you my friend?
I know you don’t have a choice in the matter here. YANA has made it impossible for any of us to change our greetings and signatures.
And, really, I wouldn’t expect you to start your emails with the words “Dear Friend” if you had a say in the matter. I mean, who does that? It’s lame. Even I know it’s lame.
I was just wondering if you would call us friends. I guess pen pals would be a more accurate description for what we are.
So, forget I asked. I would delete everything I just wrote except I promised Dr. S that I would stop agonizing over these letters and would say what I’m thinking. Unedited. Uncensored.
I should take this opportunity to apologize for the craziness that’s going to be unleashed on you, but I also promised Dr. S I’d stop doing that all the time. Apologizing, I mean. He says I need to stop saying I’m sorry when it’s not really necessary.
Though, I’d argue that this time it is. Me - unedited, uncensored - is definitely something worth apologizing for.
It’s the first day of my senior year of high school and my mother just finished her annual ‘you could have friends if you would actually talk to people and smile at them and make an effort’ speech.
It was exactly as sad as it sounds. She’s been giving me the same lecture each year since I started kindergarten. It was normal enough when I was five and I wasn’t the only kid refusing to let go of his mother’s leg, but now it’s pathetic.
“The other kids want to be your friends. You just have to be nice to them. Smile. You have such a lovely smile. Ask them about their summers. You can tell them about our trip to the beach. I bet they’ll like that. You can take a seashell with you, if you want.”
Except, this year she substituted the idea of getting my cast signed for the beach part. We didn’t take a vacation this summer. She wasn’t able to take any time off work.
Not that it makes a difference what topic of conversation she suggests. It’s wistful thinking on her part to imagine that this will be the year things change.
Here’s hoping your day is better than mine is bound to be.
Sincerely,
E
Evan heard his mother approaching a solid minute before she reappeared in his doorway. It was a habit of hers now, loudly rambling as she walked down the hall to his room. She had developed it when he was fifteen and she made the mistake of bursting in while he was--
No, no. He wasn’t going there. Not today. Not when he was about to leave for school. That was the last memory he wanted on his mind as he braced himself to face the day.
“Evan,” Heidi sighed, one hand on her hip, the other waving a cup of coffee. “You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve been saying, have you?”
“What?” Evan blinked up at his mother. “No, I mean, yes. I mean-”
“Evan,” Heidi shook her head as she stared at her son. “I was just saying you should come eat something before you go. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know.”
“Actually, I heard that’s just a myth,” Evan said. His eyes traveled from his mother to his laptop screen. He could feel a knot forming in the pit of his stomach as his mother beamed at the computer.
“Oh, have you been writing to L?”
“I-” Evan started.
“Don’t forget to print out your message log when you get to school,” Heidi reminded him. “Dr. Sherman wants to see it when you go to your appointment this afternoon. Not the actual messages, of course. Dr. Sherman only wants to see how many you’ve been sending and how long they are. That kind of thing.”
“I-I thought my appointment wasn’t until next week,” Evan frowned.
“Oh, well, I bumped it up a week,” Heidi said. “I told you that, didn’t I? I thought you might need a session today. Start the year on a good note.”
Evan’s gaze dropped to his feet. There was a spot he’d never noticed on the floor by his desk. He poked at it with his toe until he felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder.
“It’s going to be a good year, Ev. I can feel it. I can’t believe my little boy is all grown up and getting ready to enter the real world. Just think, this time next year, you’ll be sitting in a dorm somewhere ignoring my texts and living on ramen noodles and cereal.”
“I already live on ramen noodles and cereal,” Evan pointed out.
Heidi rolled her eyes and affectionately ran her hand through Evan’s hair. “Speaking of cereal-”
“All right, all right,” Evan relented, his hands flying up in surrender. “I’ll come grab a bowl before we leave.”
“That’s my boy,” Heidi grinned. She nodded at Evan’s computer as he pulled himself out of the chair. “It’s helping, isn’t it? Writing to your pen pal.”
Evan resisted the urge to cringe at the words ‘pen pal.’ Even his mother thought L was only his pen pal. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to hack into the You Are Not Alone server and delete his message before L had the chance to read it.
Not that he would’ve been successful if he tried. Evan barely knew how to do anything on the computer besides the basics. He would’ve had to recruit Jared to try to hack the site and that could only have ended in disaster.
For starters, Evan would never have heard the end of it if Jared knew his friend was enrolled in a site devoted to helping emotionally troubled teenagers work through their issues.
And then there would be the issue of stopping Jared from reading his messages. And printing them. And sharing them with the school.
No, no, Jared was definitely not the solution to this problem.
“Evan.”
Evan started at the sound of his name. “Yeah?”
“You weren’t listening again,” Heidi sighed. Her face was wearing its patented pained expression. The expression she reserved for Evan whenever she was wondering what was going through her son’s mind.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“It’s helping you, isn’t it? Writing to L. You seem happy whenever you get a message from him.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s helping,” Evan nodded eagerly. He tried to force a smile onto his face, but was fairly certain it came out as a cross between a grimace and a smirk.
“Good, I’m glad,” Heidi said. “Now, let’s go eat before it’s too late. We need to be out the door in ten minutes if I’m going to drop you off.”
Evan followed her out to the kitchen where they each inhaled a bowl of cereal and split a pop tart. Evan gulped down a glass of orange juice and refused the coffee his mother tried to pour for him. Coffee wrecked his system. The one and only time he’d tried it had been the previous spring. He had stayed up late working on a history presentation and had then been unable to sleep as he panicked about giving his speech in front of the class. His mother had insisted that he drink some coffee the following morning to keep himself awake.
Needless to say, the combination of caffeine, nerves, and lack of sleep had resulted in a train wreck presentation that had already become a school legend.
Evan supposed there were worse ways to become infamous, but he couldn’t think of any off the top of his head.
They made it into the car with mere seconds to spare. Evan knew there were mere seconds to spare because his mother kept glancing at the alarm on her phone while she prattled on about how he needed to be more optimistic and try harder to make friends.
“I don’t get it, Evan,” Heidi said as she eased the car into traffic. “You have no trouble talking to me. Your teachers always say your papers are well-written. You obviously have a lot of interesting things to say. Why can’t you say them out loud? Why do you always look like a deer caught in the headlights when someone tries to talk to you?”
And here it came. The part where Evan felt guilty. The part where his mother expressed her concerns, her confusion, her uncertainties. The part where Evan wished he could be different, that he could be the kind of son his mother deserved to have. Even if she wasn’t always the kind of mother he deserved.
Evan squeezed the bottom of his shirt and stared blankly out the window. There was no need for him to respond.
“Dr. Sherman thinks you’re showing progress,” Heidi said brightly. “He said you’ve been working on making eye contact and speaking clearly. That’s really good. I am proud of you, Evan. You know that, right?”
Evan nodded numbly. His eyes squinted as he stared at the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. It was a beautiful day. Evan wished he didn’t have to spend it trapped inside.
Heidi fumbled with the radio dials and mumbled about how there weren’t any good stations on the air anymore. “I guess that means I’m officially old, huh? I don’t know any of the artists they play nowadays.”
Evan smiled weakly while his mother chuckled self-depreciatively. He knew she expected him to roll his eyes and declare that his mother was totally out of touch, but the truth of the matter was that he wasn’t much better than she was at identifying popular musical acts.
“Do you want to get out here?” Heidi asked suddenly.
Evan blinked in surprise, only then noticing that they had pulled over a block away from school.
“I was just thinking, you’re a senior now,” Heidi grinned. “I remember being a senior. I would’ve rather died than be spotted getting dropped off by my parents.”
Evan bit his lip as he considered her words. He didn’t mind walking, but he’d been banking on that remaining block to gather his thoughts. If he got out now, he’d run the risk of seeing some of his classmates earlier than he’d been anticipating.
The school suddenly felt like it was miles away.
“I can take you the rest of the way, if you’d rather,” Heidi continued on quickly. “It’s just, well, traffic’s a bit slow by the school and I’m afraid I’ll be late if I get caught behind a bus.”
“It’s fine,” Evan assured her. He opened the door and grabbed his bag off the backseat. “I’ll see you-”
“After school,” Heidi confirmed. “I’ll pick you up for your appointment. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay though. Do you mind taking the bus home? I can try to rearrange some things, but-”
“It’s fine,” Evan muttered. He gave her a firm nod and exited the car.
The look on his mother’s face was heartbreaking when he glanced over his shoulder. It was so sad, so hopeful, so concerned that Evan couldn’t help thinking it must be hard to be a parent. He wished he could make it easier for her, but he didn’t know how.
The walk to school was uneventful. Evan managed to make it into the building without tripping or dropping anything or speaking to anyone.
The atmosphere in the senior hallway was festive, to say the least, when Evan arrived. Everywhere he looked, he saw familiar faces running around, hugging their friends, and being merry in the way that he supposed was normal for your average twelfth grader on the first day of school.
Evan barely managed to duck out of the way as two girls he only vaguely recognized flew at each other, squealing excitedly about their summers.
“Hey,” someone said from behind him.
Evan spun around to see Alana Beck leaning against the locker next to his. He blinked at her in surprise and glanced around quickly to make sure she wasn’t talking to someone else. “Uh, hi.”
“Hey,” Alana repeated with a nod. “How was your summer? Mine was good. Busy, but good.”
Evan nodded along as she continued to speak. He was suddenly very aware of his heart rate and where his hands were. His palms were beginning to feel sweaty, so he shoved them in his pockets and nodded once more as Alana finished her story.
“-It really was so rewarding. I’d recommend it to anyone. Have you done a lot of volunteer work? I could help you set something up, if you want. It looks great on college applications. Oh, there’s Tracy. I need to ask her something. See you later!”
And, just like that, Alana was gone.
In an ideal world, Evan would have been given the opportunity to sit down and recover from the cyclone that was Alana Beck, but this was not an ideal world and he knew that he only had a few minutes left to get into his locker and hightail it to his homeroom.
Of course, getting into his locker proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated. Evan had gotten used to doing a lot of things one-handed. There were times when he actually forgot about the cast on his arm. He could eat, sleep, and shower normally, or close to it at any rate. He could type with the cast on. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he hadn’t been able to do that.
Manipulating his lock and juggling his belongings while sporting a cast on his arm was proving to be too much for him to handle though.
It didn’t help matters that he was beginning to attract attention. He could feel the eyes boring into the back of his head as he struggled with the lock. His brow furrowed and the sweat on his palms increased as he tried the combination again.
Maybe he had memorized the wrong numbers or he was at the wrong locker. He had done that once in tenth grade. He had spent what felt like hours attempting to get into a locker that had turned out to belong to Connor Murphy. He had lucked out when Connor’s sister, Zoe, spotted him and asked why he was trying to break into her brother’s locker.
Evan was quite certain that Zoe Murphy had saved his life that day. He didn’t think he’d have lived to tell the tale if Connor had been the one to catch him.
Evan pulled back from the locker and stared at the number. There it was, clear as day. Number 121. Just like the welcome back packet had said.
He reached for the lock again, only to have his hand swatted away.
“Okay, okay, would you stop already?” Jared said with a roll of his eyes. “You’re going to hurt yourself and I can’t just stand here and witness it. My parents will kill me if they hear I stood by while you went and broke your other arm trying to get into your locker.”
Jared grabbed the lock and looked at Evan expectantly. “Well?”
“Well what?” Evan asked. His eyes dropped to the ground and he tried to take a deep breath. The stares were dwindling now that people no longer had the option to watch the loser with the cast battle his locker.
“What’s your combination?” Jared asked as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Oh, sorry,” Evan stammered. “Um,” he leaned forward to whisper in Jared’s ear, “33-10-17.”
“Ugh, personal space. You’ve heard of it, right?” Jared jumped away so quickly that Evan wondered if he felt any whiplash. “You don’t need to be so secretive. Who do you think would want to break into your locker? No one’s that desperate for pictures of trees.” Jared turned to smirk at Evan. “Or Zoe Murphy.”
“Wh-what?” Evan practically choked on the word. “I-I don’t-”
“Relax,” Jared sneered. “It was a joke.”
“N-not funny,” Evan wheezed.
“You need to learn to laugh at yourself,” Jared shrugged. He turned his attention back to the lock and, within seconds, it popped open so easily that Evan half-wondered if it hated him already.
“There,” Jared nodded triumphantly. “Make sure you tell your mom how I helped you out. You know the deal, right?”
Evan nodded to show that he did. He suddenly wanted nothing more than for Jared to leave him alone. He knew better than to expect that to happen instantaneously though.
“My parents are only going to keep paying for my car insurance if-”
“If you’re nice to me,” Evan finished. He turned to start unloading his books into his locker when a thought occurred to him. “Hey, Jared, do you want to sign-”
“Well, well, would you look who’s back?” Jared’s eyebrows shot up as he nodded at a figure coming down the hall. Evan tilted his head to see.
“Is that-”
“Connor Murphy,” Jared confirmed. “Doesn’t look like rehab did him any good, does it?”
“Rehab?”
“Or juvie or military school or wherever it was he went last spring.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” Evan nodded. He vaguely remembered hearing something about that. Rumor had it that Connor had been sent away after he got into some kind of major trouble. The specifics of the crime varied depending on who was telling the tale. Evan had heard that Connor had been caught doing everything from shoplifting to running over someone with his car.
The latter seemed far more likely than the former to Evan. Everyone knew that Connor had a nasty temper and it wasn’t exactly a secret that the Murphys had money. Of course, having money hadn’t stopped all those famous actresses from shoplifting. Somehow, Evan was having trouble imagining Connor swiping nail polish or jewelry though.
“Hey, Connor,” Jared exclaimed, waving his arm so enthusiastically that he resembled a cartoon character. “Good to see you, buddy. That vacation you took last spring really did wonders for your complexion.”
Connor froze in his tracks and turned to glare at Jared. “Excuse me?”
Jared snickered and threw a shrewd look in Evan’s direction. “I’m just saying you look so relaxed. It must’ve been all that good, spa-living. I bet you loved all the herbal remedies.”
Evan stared at the inside of his locker and wondered if he could fit in it. He was seriously contemplating trying when he realized that Jared was inching closer and closer to him. He looked at his friend in alarm. He knew that look. It was the look of someone who should stop talking, someone who knew he should stop talking, but was suddenly, inexplicably unable to do just that.
“I’d ask for a refund for your hair though,” Jared continued. “Unless that’s how all the other guys are styling it juvie these days.”
Evan’s good hand froze in mid-air as he turned to stare at Jared again. He took a breath and prodded Jared’s arm. “Come on. We-we need to get to homeroom. The bell’s-the bell’s going to ring any second now.”
“It was a joke,” Jared said defensively. “You people really need to learn to laugh at yourselves.” He nodded in Connor’s direction. “Connor knows I was just messing around, right?”
“Oh, yeah, you’re freaking hilarious,” Connor snapped. Evan recoiled instinctively. Jared, for the first time, seemed to get that he had been sticking his fingers in the lion’s cage. “Go ahead and make fun of the class freak. Did you ever stop and think that you might be the fucking freak, you fucking moron?”
“Whoa, whoa,” Jared chuckled nervously. “There’s no need for name-calling, Murphy. But, seriously, you think I’m the freak? Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
The laughter that escaped from Evan’s mouth was so involuntary that he didn’t realize what had happened until he looked up and saw Connor glaring at him. If looks could kill, Evan knew for a fact that he would have dissolved into a pile of ash.
“You think that’s funny?” Connor demanded.
Evan’s mouth opened and closed several times as Connor’s wrath redirected itself onto him. “No, I-”
“CONNOR!”
Zoe Murphy screamed her brother’s name from the other end of the hallway before making a beeline for the three of them.
Connor’s fist slammed into the locker next to Evan with such force that the vibrations made Evan jump and Jared flinch.
Connor spun around to face his sister. “WHAT?”
Zoe’s hands flew to her hips as she met her brother’s glare with one of her own. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re going to get yourself suspended on the first day. The bell’s about to ring. Go to your homeroom now or I’ll tell-”
“Oh my God,” Connor sneered. “Are you seriously babysitting me at school too?”
“Well, someone has to,” Zoe snapped. Her chin jutted out as she gestured down the hall. “Now go.”
Connor adjusted the bag on his shoulder, slapped the locker one more time, and turned to leave. Evan could hear him muttering under his breath as he stormed down the hall towards Mrs. Jensen’s classroom.
Because, of course, Evan was in the same homeroom as Connor Murphy. That sounded about right.
“I’m sorry about my brother,” Zoe said softly. It was like her whole demeanor had changed the moment Connor was out of sight. Gone was the girl with fire in her eyes and venom in her mouth. Just like that, she had been replaced by the sweet, funny, gorgeous girl Evan had been admiring since tenth grade. “Are you two okay?”
“Y-yeah,” Evan managed to stammer while nodding emphatically and staring resolutely at the floor.
“We’re fine,” Jared assured her. He opened his mouth to say more, but the warning bell beat him to it. “Shit. I’m going to get written up on the first day. My homeroom’s all the way downstairs.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Zoe offered. “I’m in Mr. Berger’s homeroom. If we hurry, we can make it before the final bell rings.”
Jared agreed with a grin and they set off. Evan lingered by the lockers for a moment, watching them go, before turning to leave himself.
“You coming, Evan? It is Evan, right?” Zoe called over her shoulder. Her smile was so angelic that Evan could feel his heart skip a beat.
“Oh, um, n-no,” Evan mumbled and grabbed the back of his head, squeezing the hairs there until he nearly whimpered in pain. “I mean, yes, I’m Evan. But, no, I’m-I’m not coming with you. I’m in Mrs. Jensen’s homeroom.”
“Oh.” Zoe’s eyes widened as she realized what that meant. “Look, don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Connor is usually good when there’s a teacher around.”
“Except for that one time with the printer,” Jared pointed out. He used his hands to mimic a bomb exploding.
“That was a long time ago,” Zoe sniffed. “Look, just, I don’t know, just ignore him.”
“Evan can do that,” Jared nodded eagerly. “He’s great at ignoring people.” He nudged Zoe’s arm with his elbow. “Bell.”
“Oh, yeah, the bell,” Zoe sighed and shook her head. “Good luck, Evan. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Zoe offered him one more weak smile before following Jared down the hall. Their voices echoed when they reached the stairwell. Evan could hear Jared asking her about her summer.
To his amazement, Evan was not the only straggler who darted into Mrs. Jensen’s classroom just as the bell rang. There was a flurry of activity as the other three latecomers searched for their friends and claimed the seats that had been saved for them. When they were settled in, Evan began to scan the room for an empty desk.
There was only one left.
It was the one next to Connor Murphy.
That sounded about right.