Chapter Text
Connor slumped angrily on the bed, pill bottle in one hand. This wasn't even close to the first time he'd done this routine, it felt so natural. Honestly? He was surprised mom still kept the medicine in reach.
He took out a tiny white pill, rolling it around between his fingers. It was weird. So small and helpful, yet this little thing could be enough to just...Stop. Everything. Forever. Well...not just one. He'd need...ten? Fifty? Connor actually had no idea how much an overdose was, he usually just downed as much as he could and hoped for the best. It had never worked before, but this particular bottle was full, so hopefully.
As he rolled over on the bed, the letter crumpled in his pocket. He pulled it out to reread it for what felt like the thousandth time.
"There. Now we can pretend we both have friends."
Stupid. Stupid fucking IDIOT. Connor hated himself, why the fuck had he done that?? He didn't even like the kid, he was always hanging around Kleinman. Creep. But Connor had tried to be his friend anyway-after shoving him over in the hall, because THAT was how you made friends, Connor-, had tried to talk to him, he'd even signed his sad little cast as way of an apology. To be honest, he'd kinda wanted a friend. Though he had no idea why he thought he'd actually GET what he wanted. The one friend he'd almost made wrote a creepy letter about his sister. He'd done that just to annoy Connor. Just to push his attempt at friendship in his freckled fucking face. Just to watch him get mad, lauh, embarrass him. Evan was the reason for tonight's attempt. He hoped whatever came next would be better, anything had to be. Nobody would miss him anyway. Not ansen, or Kleinman, or Miguel, or Zoe, or Larry, or...
*Knock knock*
Connor sat up at the perfectly timed knock. Mom. Mom would miss him. She always cared about him for some reason. Begged Larry to let him see a therapist, even though Larry had only let him have one session. Tried to reason with him, never raised her voice, always there-
Another knock pulled him out of his head. He did tend to get lost there. "Come in mom" He called, shoving the bottle and note under the mattress. He knew it was mom, Larry didn't fucking knock, and Zoe never came to see him. Sure enough, Cynthia entered, carrying a tray.
"I heard from Zoe that you had a bad day" She sighed. She hadn't heard from Connor himself, of course, Connor never spoke to her any more. "I'm sorry that I made you go." As she spoke, she handed the tray over. Connors favourite teas-he wasn't much of a coffee drinker, though he looked the type-with a plate of brownies. Homemade and still warm. And a book. "Don't sweat the Small Stuff (and it's all small stuff)". How cute. He smiled up at her. She tried so hard for him, it made him feel just that little bit calmer.
"Look, I'll talk to Larry about school, maybe you can take tomorrow off instead?" She offered, and Connor felt himself grin.
"Hey, it's cool mom, don't worry. I'm glad I went, y'know? It's better to push through it." It was a blatant lie, but it left his mom reassured. And in that moment between them, Connor made a subconscious decision. He changed into pajamas, got under the covers, and read the dumb book that had been specifically picked for him, careful not to get hot Brownies or tea on the pages.