Chapter Text
1.
Connors least favorite class was probably psychology. Which was saying a lot considering the fact that he had to pass home ec before he even was allowed to take this class and had been waiting since freshmen year to get his hand on a sylibis. And it wasn't even that the class was inherently bad. Learning about the DSM was cool and so was the one gender studies lessons but… But it was hard to talk openly about his problems. And that seemed to come with taking this class.
It was just… triggering. Talking about depression and anxiety with a bunch of his peers who were probably just waiting for him to snap and throw another printer? No thanks.
So, when the time came for one of those pair up with a classmate type thing and talk about your issues Connor bailed. He sat in the back of the classroom with his feet kicked up on a desk, glaring at anyone who dared to ask to partner up. Connor didn't need anyone else getting an in depth look at his psyche. He already thought about how messed up he was enough.
The rubric still ended up on his desk though and he scoffed. Talk about how anxiety relates to teenagers with a partner and then present to the class at the end of the period.
Fucking bull shit Connor thought. He was definitely not doing this.
And then there was a shorter looking kid with dirty blonde hair and shaky hands at the end of Connors desk. His eyes were downcast, and his shoulders were hunched. He looked scared of Connor, just like everyone else. The moody teen didn't both to turn of his music. People being afraid of him pissed him off more, thus making him more scary, and in turn making people more scared. It was a vicious cycle. He pulled out one earbud and glared at the kid.
“U-u-uh…” the kid swallowed visibly and tugged at the hem of his shirt. “I-I-I'm Evan Hansen.”
Oooooh shit. Connor thought. It was the computer lab kid! He’d nearly forgotten about that little… incident. Sometimes he felt guilty about that. Mostly he didn't feel anything at all. Thank god for that
“I-I-I-I know th-that you… you know me, I-I mean I think y-you r-remember m-me, but, uh, well I j-just, I don't know anyone in this class, a-a-and I've been doing these projects alone a-a-and Mrs.Smith t-t-told me I c-c-couldn't do that anymore so uh, um… a-and I know you don't… maybe….” Evan trailed off.
Connor could see him visibly shaking. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, desperately searching for some kind of mercy. It was sad, really. It struck something deep within him. Some kinda longing, that longing for a friend that had been tucked into the way back of Connors brain, long forgotten about by now.
“Uh, um, you d-d-don't have t-to work with me!” Evan started again, taking a deep breath. His voice was quiet and reserved. Like he was waiting for someone to talk over him. “I-I can work o-on my own, o-or just do half of the project, o-or whatever a-and then we can put it together at the end, I-I don't care, whatever you w-wann-”
“Shut up.” Connor muttered, pulling his head phones out the rest of the way and interrupting Evan. "I’ll work with you.”
“O-oh?” Evan pipped, lifting his head. The was surprise plain in his eyes.
“Yeah. You seem cool.” Evan swallowed thickly and nodded perhaps a little too enthusiastically. He seemed unsure of what to do next, still standing next to Connor and tugging on his shirt.
“Er, you gonna sit?” Connor asked with an edge to his voice. All this nervous energy was just making him nervous. Things were tense. The air was stiff. Neither one of them would make eye contact. Connor wasn't sure what to say or do and it put him on edge. Meeting new people put him on edge. Luckily Evan decided to pull up a chair just then. He made sure to keep his distance though which was nice. Both teens were trying their best to read the room while i'm a simultaneously trying to not let their anxieties swallow them whole.
“So uh…” Evan fished in his bag for a piece of paper. “Evan Hansen and C-Connor Murphy…” he started writing down their names.
“Yup that's me.” Connor chimed. “School psychopath.” Evan swallowed uncomfortable but Connor ignored it.
“Um a-a-aah, Teens And Anxiety.” Evan articulate, writing that down as a header.
There was another awkward pause. Connor hurried to fill it. “Um your cast came off.” He commented, ironically too anxious to talk about anxiety.
Evan looked down at his hand, which was now covered in an ace bandage, a flash of regret and panic crossing his features. Quickly, he swallowed it down. “Y-y-yeah! C-came off awhile ago…” there it was again. That silence that threatened to bury them alive. Then, “I-I’m s-sorry about that d-d-day! I-I uh, I-I didn't mean to… to… upset. you.” Evan cleared his throat. Before he could continue however, Connor cut in. Watching this kid try to talk must be like, a new form of torture.
“Don't sweat it dude.” And just like that half the tension left Evans body. I must of been half as worried about that as he was. Connor thought numbly and angled himself so he was sitting closer to the kid.
Suddenly things didn't seem as forced. It was as if all Evan needed to feel comfortable was Connor to accept his apology. Sure things were still clumsy, but neither boy would let the other fall completely. “So anxiety… I definitely got that shit covered.” Connor shrugged.
Evan laughed awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable with how much Connor was willing to share up front. “U-u-uh me too?”
“Uh, duh?” Connor tried to joke but Evans face fell. “Just the nervous ticks and all… sorry. Shit. I don't know why I said that. Sometimes I can't help myself. Maybe serves some fucked up masochist tendencies buried deep inside my psyche…” another awkward pause. Evan looked just about ready to die. “It's a joke! It's a joke! Again!” Damn it Murphy.
However, Evan gave a half hearted laugh and Connor counted it as a win. “I, um, yeah. I-I-I guess my a-a-anxiety’s fairly heightened.” Connor nodded, encouraging him to go on. “I-I-I g-guess it all started with daddy issues?” Evan tried for a laugh.
“Shit, me too.” Connor blurted out and watched as Evan scribbled family drama onto the piece of paper. Then he turned his big eyes onto Connor, waiting for more. Connor couldn't help but obligate. Fuck the color green.
“Ya know just…” he gave in “my dad's an asshole. If I'm not perfect then I'm not his son. And I'm always being compared to-” warily Connor continued. “to my sister Zoe. It's like I'm not allowed to have a personality! I just have to be… him!”
Evan nodded, taking a moment before he continued. “I… I'm sorry Connor. Th-th-that must suck.”
“It fucking does.” Those few words from Evan meant more to Connor then any half hearted advice from his mom or from his ‘friends’. That must suck. It does suck. Evan didn't try to pretend to know how it felt. He didn't try to solve Connors problems. He just knew it suck. “What about you? What about your dad?”
“Oh um...h… he's great!” Evan stuttered. His eyes were glued to the desk. Connor watched him warily as he slowly licked his lips. “I...I-I'm, im sorry I don't know why I said that. I actually d-don't have a dad.” Evan started whispering then and Connor perked up, feeling shame hot in his cheeks and deep in his gut.
“Oh god, I'm so sorry.”
“H-he's not dead!” Evan rushed to say and that made Connor feel a little better. “H-he’s just… n-n-not here.” Connor nodded, asking him to continue. It was nice to not have to talk about his problems for a second. And Evan had been so understanding, Connor needed to act the same. “A-a-and I guess… um, uh, I guess I feel like he doesn't love m-me very much. I-I have step siblings b-but I barely know them. A-and he s-s-spends a-all his t-t-time with them.” Evan swallowed thickly, voice thick and Connor figured this was his time to intervene. He didn't want this kid crying on him or some shit. No way. He could not handle crying. And definitely not some stranger crying on him, who he’s seen cry before and who he apparently had a very big weak spot for.
“You're dads a piece of shit.” Evans head snapped up. He looked stunned, with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open ever so slightly. “You don't deserve that. You deserve respect, dude. I'm sorry about that.” Connor stole the paper and pencil, scribbling ‘shitty dads’ underneath Evans neat handwriting.
Evan shrugged. “It's um… yeah. I-i mean, that's just the start of it. I'm really a mess.” He laughed half heartedly and squirmed in his chair.
“Me too dude. Me too.” Connor sighed and leaned back. “God, fuck this project.” He looked around at his classmates who were all deep in conversation and doing their work like they were suppose to. “Let’s just get up there and play some Logic or some shit.”
“Logic?” Evan asked, obviously not too keen on that idea but also anxious to get out of public speaking.
“Yeah. You know? The band?” Connor asked raising an eyebrow. How had Evan Hansen never heard of Logic?
Evan just shook his head no.
“My god Hansen you need some culture! What kinda music do you even listen to?!” Connor exclaimed, ignoring the glares from his peers who were trying to work. Connor scowled right back at them.
“U-u-uuh, um, uh, w-whatever m-my mom likes.” Evan squeaked.
“Dude, you need to listen to some new stuff. Like, normal teenager stuff. You're coming over to my house asap and we're listening to Nirvana or some shit.”
“Okay!” Evan squeaked, and Connor couldn't tell if he agreed because he wanted to or because he was afraid to say no.
For their presentation Connor did all the talking, reading off the paper in a monotone voice. Evan stood behind him the whole time with wide eyes and shaky hands.
Connor talked about how anxiety stemmed from too much pressure at home and poor parenting and other bull shit he came up with on the spot.
They got an A. Connor didn't know why, but when he got his rubric back, on the top there was a little note with a smiley face that said. Thanks for helping out Evan. He needs a friend.
Connor ripped it up and threw it away.