Chapter Text
It’d been three days. Three anxiety-riddled days since Connor Murphy had stolen Evan’s therapy letter. He hadn’t told anyone because who did he have to tell? He hadn’t seen his mom since the first day of school. She was either at work or in class or sleeping. And it’s not like she’d understand anyways, even if he got a chance to talk to her. He didn’t have any friends. He had considered telling Jared, but even the thought of explaining why he had a letter addressed to himself had him spiraling further. Jared would just make fun of him and make everything worse, not better. He couldn’t even talk to Dr. Sherman about it, someone who was literally paid to listen to him talk. Evan couldn’t get past the disappointed sigh Dr. Sherman had made when he’d shown up to therapy without a letter and nothing to say.
And it’s not like he’d seen Connor since then either. He’d been missing from school and so had his sister Zoe. That freaked Evan out even more. He should have never written anything about her in his letter. It was so stupid. He was never going to get the chance to know her. It’s not like there was a real chance before and now it was completely out of the question. She probably thought he was a freak, especially after the way he acted when she apologized for Connor. God why couldn’t he just do something normal for a change?
Connor had definitely told Zoe and probably their parents about his letter. They were probably filing like a restraining order or something against at the moment, that’s why they weren’t at school. Evan was pretty sure court things took time so that’s where they were. And then he’d get served court papers and they’d probably cost a whole lot of money. And then his mom would hate him more. He already cost so much money to begin with, with his therapy appointments, medication, and not to mention his ER visit and surgery this summer. She’d probably want nothing to do with him now. Tell him what he always knew was true, that she didn’t want him around anymore. Then what would he do?
“Evan Hansen, please report to the principal’s office, Evan Hansen to the principal’s office”
Everyone in the class stops what they’re doing and turns to look directly at Evan, which makes him freeze in place, paralyzed with anxiety. He can feel his heart racing and his hands getting sweaty and he can vaguely hear his teacher call out his name, but she sounds like she’s underwater. He thinks she might be coming closer, but he’s not completely sure.
Evan doesn’t know what to do because this was definitely about his letter. He’d never been to the principal’s office before, so that was the only thing it could be about. Maybe Connor and Zoe wanted him expelled. How would he explain that to his mom too, on top of the court orders he was sure were coming?
“Evan,” Ms. Holmes says softly, placing her hand gently on Evan’s arm, breaking him out of his thought spiral, “Do you need someone to go with you? I’m sure it’s nothing bad.”
“No, it’s okay, I can go alone,” Evan says so quickly that Ms. Holmes probably didn’t even understand him. Worried that she was worried about him and might try to talk to him more, Evan suddenly finds himself able to move, awkwardly grabbing his backpack from the ground and shoving his notebook inside, shuffling out of the room, without looking at anybody or anything.
The barrenness of the hallway is somehow more suffocating than the hordes of students watching him in the tiny stuffy classroom. Evan leans against the lockers lining the wall, attempting to get his breathing under control. He knew if he didn’t get it together fast enough, he’d have a full-blown anxiety attack in the hallway, which would probably make Mr. Howard mad too, because then he’d have to wait for Evan. He was probably super busy to start with and dealing with Evan was just taking up more of his time. He just needed to get it together.
The cool metal of the lockers against his forehead help make him feel more grounded, and Evan does his best to use the exercises Dr. Sherman had wanted him to learn for these exact moments.
In for five. Out for seven. In for five. Out for seven. In for five. Out for seven.
When he feels like he has a tiny semblance of control back (his heart was still racing and he could feel his shoulder tightening, so he knew it wasn’t over), but it’s the best he can do given the circumstances, he forces his feet to walk towards the office.
He wasn’t sure why he was able to calm himself even a little, maybe it was because subconsciously he’d given up already. He knew what was coming didn’t he? He would have to face multiple adults who were probably disgusted by him and his pathetic actions. They would call his mom tell her what he did, and then every person in his insignificant life would want nothing to do with him. He didn’t have to worry about any anxiety from “what if’s” if he already knew the outcome.
Evan’s hands are shaking as he opens the door to the office, and he stumbles through the door, tripping as his foot catches the corner of the door. He knew his face was probably already red from the anxiety, but now it was red from the embarrassment too. He can’t even walk through a doorway without messing it up.
The attendance clerk looks up from her computer when she hears Evan floundering in, looking at him with a look Evan knew all too well. Pity. It flashes across her face for a moment before it’s replaced with a softer one asking Evan, “Can I help you dear?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Howard,” Evan mumbles looking at the ground and picking at the fraying edge of his cast.
“It’s right through that door,” she says kindly, which confuses Evan. Didn’t she already know what was awaiting him? Why would she be nice to him? He didn’t deserve it; he was about to get expelled or worse.
Evan doesn’t look up to her but sees where she’s pointing and slowly makes his way to the door, opening it hesitantly. Evan glances up just to check Mr. Howard’s expression. He wanted to prepare himself for the yelling that was sure to be coming his way. But Evan doesn’t find Mr. Howard in his office. He finds a couple that looks a little older than his mom, sitting in two of the chairs, with one across from them, clearly for him. The man is what Evan expects most dads to look like, sturdy, with a grim expression, and his arm is gently placed around the woman. The woman looks despondent, like she tried to dress-up and put on make-up, but had cried over it, smudging it in weird places on her face.
It takes Evan moment, but then it clicks that these must be Connor’s parents. Who else could they be? They were probably so upset that their children were upset because of Evan. Evan had freaked Zoe and Connor out, so now their parents were freaked out about being around him too. They hadn’t started yelling at him yet, but Evan was positive they would start soon. Go on about how he needed to leave their children alone, or else they’d take him or court or have him expelled.
The sound of the door opening causes the Murphy’s to glance up towards Evan, and they just stare at him, which makes Evan incredibly uncomfortable, more so than he already was. Why were they waiting so long? Couldn’t they just get on with it? Evan just looks at the ground unable to look at them, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet until he hears Mr. Murphy say gently, “Evan? Would you like to sit down? We’re Connor’s parents, and we just want to talk to you.”
Evan can’t control the way his head shoots up, looking directly at them with wide terrified eyes, confused as to why they were being so nice to him. Evan finds himself nodding frantically and moving towards the chair across from the Murphy’s, scrunching his body into the smallest position possible, afraid to take up any space in front of these people.
Mrs. Murphy is sniffling, on the verge of tears, continually folding and unfolding the piece of paper that was in her hand, opening her mouth like she was going to say something, but nothing comes out. Evan has no idea what is going on and keeps his mouth shut, avoiding making eye contact with either Mr. or Mrs. Murphy.
“This, um, Connor wanted you to have this,” Mrs. Murphy finally manages to say, holding the piece of paper out to Evan, but she was clutching on to the edge like she didn’t want to give the paper away. Evan takes it hesitantly, like he might burst into flames spontaneously if he grabbed it too fast from Mrs. Murphy.
Evan glances down at the paper and his heart starts racing again when he sees the first words that read Dear Evan Hansen. He can’t make out exactly what Mr. Murphy is saying, too focused on the letter in his shaky hands. The one Connor had stolen from him. Why would they think Connor wanted him to have this? He’d stolen it from him three days ago.
“Connor, um, Connor gave this to you to give to me? I don’t understand,” Evan tells them, setting the paper on his lap, unable to keep looking at it. He anxiously starts picking at the plaster of his cast, letting it crumble to the ground, waiting for the Murphy’s to explain more.
“We know you and Connor were close friends, and we honestly didn’t think that Connor had any friends until now, but he had you,” Mrs. Murphy says, giving Evan a watery smile, once again about to cry.
Why did they think him and Connor were friends? Because of one letter? Had Connor mentioned he had taken it from him? They weren’t friends. Connor hated him and thought he was a weirdo who was stalking his little sister. There’s no way he wanted to give Evan his therapy letter back. It was all the proof Connor would have needed to ruin Evan’s life even more. Seriously, what was happening right now? Did they know that Evan had written this letter? Did they think Connor had?
“Do, do you…Um, you think Connor wrote this to me?” Evan manages to ask, the desperation evident in his voice. He needed to know if the Murphy’s knew the truth.
“Yes, these were his last words, and he wanted you to have this. It’s right there, Evan. Dear Evan Hansen. He even signed as your best and most dearest friend. It’s all right there Evan,” Mr. Murphy says, rubbing his temples, trying to ease out the tension there, and Evan’s not sure if it’s because of him or not. Was he upset that Evan was asking dumb questions?
“What, do you mean last words?” Evan asks, glancing between Mrs. Murphy who was crying fully now, and Mr. Murphy, finally realizing what Mr. Murphy had said to him.
“Connor, he um, he took his own life, and this was all we found with him” Mr. Murphy tells Evan, lifting his hand like he was going to place it on Evan’s shoulder, but thinks better of it, returning to consoling his wife.
“He, he what?” Evan asks even though he heard Mr. Murphy very clearly, and he doesn’t even listen as he repeated himself. Suddenly everything was starting to make sense to Evan. They thought Evan’s therapy letter was their son’s suicide note. Evan simply can’t let them think that.
“He didn’t write this. Connor didn’t write this,” Evan says, the pace of his words quickening the more anxious he was getting. He had gone into this thinking the Murphy’s were going to have him expelled, not referring to him as their son’s only friend. Especially if said son was no longer with them.
Evan’s not sure they heard him, as they were still going on about how they didn’t think Connor had any friends and that he’d never mentioned Evan before, but that it meant so much to them that he had been there for Connor. Evan doesn’t know how to get them to stop, to listen to what he was trying to say. He raises his voice a little and tries again, “Connor, he didn’t write this.”
Evan’s declaration seems to get their attention, because now both of them are staring at Evan with perplexed looks on their faces. Evan thinks they might finally understand what he was trying to say, but then Larry says, “That’s not true, obviously he wrote it to you Evan. You’re just in shock. It’s a lot to take in, we know.”
Evan wasn’t in shock or denial or anything really, he just wanted to tell them the truth, that their son may have had this letter with him when he...but that didn’t mean he was the one who wrote it.
“If he didn’t then,” Mrs. Murphy trails off, looking down at her lap, and Evan is about to explain more, but Mr. Murphy cuts him off, turning to his wife telling her, “Please calm down Cynthia. Of course Connor wrote this. It was with him when we…when we found him.”
Mrs. Murphy glances over to the letter, forgotten on Evan’s lap, pointing at it, and asking Evan softly, barely above a whisper, “But did he say anything to you? Did you see anything? Did he tell you why? This is all we have and your name’s right there, Evan please.”
Evan doesn’t know what to say to these people who were insisting their son wrote his letter, he told them he hadn’t, so he’d done his part right? What they did with that was up to them. But Evan looks up and sees Cynthia’s face, so clearly grieving and distraught. He doesn’t want to hurt her more than she already was. It makes him think of his own mom. Is this what she would’ve been like if things had been different this summer? Evan had always thought she would’ve been relieved, but maybe Connor had thought that too, and Connor will never know how his mom reacted. But he can’t think about those things right now, so he pushes them out of mind, trying to focus on the situation at hand. It was getting harder and harder to breathe the longer he was with the Murphy’s and he’s not sure how much more of this he could handle. It was probably best if he just left.
“I think I should go,” Evan says, picking up the letter off his lap, looking back and forth between it and Mrs. Murphy, who was looking directly at the letter. Evan stands up, and against his better judgement, tries to push the letter back into Mrs. Murphy’s hands, telling her, “You should have this.”
Evan knows he’s made a mistake when he hears Mrs. Murphy say, “Larry, look at his cast. His best and most dearest friend”. He knows exactly what they’re looking at and the connections they think they’re making. He should have tried to hide or get rid of the big bulky letters spelling “CONNOR” across his left arm. He’d honestly figured no one would’ve noticed it the same way they don’t ever notice him.
“Evan, we understand if you have to leave now, but please come over tonight. We just want to know more. We just want to know more about our Connor,” Mrs. Murphy pleads with him, and Evan finds himself nodding along, unable to say no to her. He feels almost like this an out-of-body experience, that his body was reacting in a way he couldn’t control.
Evan turns to leave, needing to get out of there before he let them believe more things that were untrue about their son, but Larry grabs ahold of his good elbow, pulling him back. He presses another piece of paper into Evan’s hands, with their address and what he thinks might be their cell phone numbers.
“We have dinner around six if you want to join us Evan, but after works too, whatever you need,” Mrs. Murphy tells him kindly, and Evan briefly thinks she really does mean it when she says, “We just want to talk to you more.”
Evan can’t think of a single instance in his life where someone had wanted to talk to him more. That they wanted to hear what he had to say. He really wishes this weren’t the reason people wanted to talk to him. Because they didn’t want to hear Evan, they wanted to hear something about Connor. Their son. Their son who died.
Evan nods his head again and scurries out of the office, racing quickly past the clerk. There was no way he could go back to class after this. He only had two periods left, so he decides on the spot to just leave. He didn’t really care if they called his mom. She probably wouldn’t answer to start, and if she did find out and asked him about it, he’ll just say he was confused about when his study period was. I was just in the library Mom. I was confused Mom. I didn’t know if I could ask Mom. It’s sad, but he knows she’ll believe him.
The only place Evan can think of going to that wouldn’t feel so smothering is Ellison. He’d spent almost his whole summer there, until his apprenticeship got cut short because his injuries when he’d fallen out of a tree. He knows he can’t climb with his arm still broken, and he’s not sure he would try even if he could; climbing could lead to falling. But he needs to be somewhere where people aren’t. It’s funny really. He’d do anything to have people notice him, to be his friend, but whenever he actually interacts with other people, he just ruins it, and he craves returning to the safety of solitude.
As he walks, he contemplates the weird position he’s found himself in. Connor’s parents thought they were best friends and that Connor wrote his suicide note to him. These things weren’t true, but maybe he could just let them think they were. Would it really be that bad to just let the parents of a dead classmate think their son had a friend? That maybe Connor wasn’t as alone as Evan was? Give them one thing to hold on to as they grieved?
Remembering the way Mrs. Murphy looked when she begged him to tell her more about Connor, Evan thinks that just maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible. He’d be lying, yeah, but it was for a worthy cause, right? They already believed that him and Connor were friends.
Evan wouldn’t have to do anything past going to dinner tonight and say a couple nice things about Connor. He did have one nice thing to say that was true. Connor did sign his cast. He noticed no one else had and offered to do it and that was more than anyone else had done that day. Connor had noticed him.
He could do this. Evan could sit through dinner and let Connor’s parents have this one thing.
==
Dinner with the Murphy’s in incredibly awkward and Evan is already a very awkward person to begin with. To start, Evan was pretty sure he was sitting in the chair that used to be Connor’s, directly across from Zoe. He feels like he’s desecrating Connor’s memory or something, being in the exact spot he’d been so many times in his life. An unworthy replacement for a son that was actually missed. Second, Zoe was glaring at him pretty adamantly and he had no idea why. It’s possible that she knew Evan was filthy liar and secretly wrote about her in his letter that was masquerading as her brother’s suicide note. That was a pretty good reason to be glaring at him. Third, Mr. and Mrs. Murphy had invited him over to talk, but they weren’t saying anything. The only thing Evan could hear was the clinking of forks and knives against the china plates, and it was slowly driving him mad.
Finally, it’s Mr. Murphy who breaks the silence asking Evan, “Would you like some more chicken Evan?”
Evan can appreciate that he’s trying, but he doesn’t know how his basically untouched meal was an indication that he wanted more food. He was too stressed to eat, doubting his plan the longer he was with them. They would know immediately that Evan was lying about anything he said about Connor.
“I think you’re the only one with an appetite Dad,” Zoe mumbles, taking a break from glaring at Evan to glare at her dad. It makes Evan think that maybe he’s not the only thing she’s mad at.
“The Harris’s brought it over, I’m just trying to be polite,” Mr. Murphy says, sighing deeply and looking over to his daughter and Evan can’t really tell his emotions, he just looks tired.
“Evan, did Connor ever talk to you about the Harris’s? We used to go skiing with them every winter. Did he tell you about that?” Mrs. Murphy asks the anguish evident in voice, begging Evan to confirm something about her son.
Evan opens his mouth to say something like “yeah” or “he thought it was cool” but before he can say anything Zoe interrupts remarking coldly, “Connor hated skiing and he hated Brian Harris. He spent the whole time getting high at the lodge.”
“Zoe,” Mrs. Murphy chastises, looking apologetically over to Evan, “Please don’t interrupt, it’s rude. Now Evan what were you saying?”
“Just that um, Connor loved talking about how much he hated skiing,” Evan tells her, and he doesn’t even believe what he just said, so he doesn’t know how Mrs. Murphy is looking at him like he just hung the moon or something. He glances over to Zoe and her eyes are narrowed, clearly on to him, so he looks back down at his plate, painfully eating some of the dinner, if only to avoid more direct questions.
“So you guys, you…you hung out a lot?” Mrs. Murphy asks Evan, still looking at him hopefully, enraptured by the basic things Evan had said.
“Yeah,” Evan replies vaguely, swallowing and choking just a bit, making his face turn red. He couldn’t bear to look at any of the Murphy’s, so he looks down to his lap and starts fiddling with loose gauze of his cast.
“Where? Where did you guys hang out?” Zoe asks eyeing Evan suspiciously. He was sure she was going to call him on his bullshit and then he’d just look awful, a creepy liar, not like he was trying to do something nice for a grieving family.
“My house I guess mostly. Sometimes here if no one was around. We didn’t always hang out in person. We emailed sometimes. Connor didn’t always like to hang out in person, you know,” Evan says trying his best to not give concrete details, pointedly not looking over to Zoe. He’d never really seen a side of her that wasn’t nice and bubbly, and he knows it’s weird but he kind of likes it. She was confident in a way that Evan probably never would be, not afraid to speak her mind, even if she was targeting her suspicions at Evan.
“No you didn’t. We went through all his emails and there weren’t any from you,” Zoe says soberly with a light sense of superiority, confident that she’d finally cracked him, exposing him to her parents as a fraud.
Evan doesn’t know why but he glances at Mrs. Murphy and she just looks so sad, so without thinking he says, “Well you probably wouldn’t you see, because we um, he had another account. A secret one. We used that one mostly. I’m sorry that was probably really confusing.”
Zoe rolls her eyes at her parents when she sees they’re completely enamored by Evan, even though the things he was saying didn’t make that much sense. Evan flinches when Mrs. Murphy snaps at Mr. Murphy saying accusingly, “He knew you were going through his stuff. His room, his emails, that’s why he was hiding this.”
“Somebody needed to be the bad guy,” Larry huffs, going back to stabbing his chicken, looking away from his family and Evan.
“So, here’s the thing, the only time I ever saw you and my brother interact at all, was when he pushed you down in the hallway at school. Why would he do that?” Zoe questions, and Evan swallows nervously, he’d kind of forgotten that Zoe had been there, that the reason she’d been talking to him that day was because Connor had pushed him.
“Connor, he, he shoved you, Evan?” Mrs. Murphy asks, confused as to why her son would be so aggressive towards his “best and most dearest” friend.
“I, um tripped?” Evan says more like he was asking a question that telling them what actually happened, he has a feeling that this was all going to come crumbling down around him, the more Zoe poked holes into his story. This is what he gets for trying to do something nice. Shouldn’t he know by now that he ruins everything he touches? He should’ve just left the Murphy’s alone.
“No you didn’t. I was there and I saw everything. Connor shoved you hard and you fell to the ground,” Zoe tells both Evan and her mom, like she was pleading with her mom to see what she was seeing, that things weren’t adding up and that Connor wasn’t the kind of person who had a secret friend.
“Oh, well I guess he did push me, but it was a misunderstanding. He was mad, well more annoyed really, that I was trying to talk to him at school,” Evan starts and that is vaguely true so he keeps going, “He didn’t want us talking at school, and I did it anyways. So it was my fault really. I probably deserved it.”
Zoe softens a little at that, there’s no way anyone deserved to be shoved to the ground, and asks a little more kindly, “Why wouldn’t he want to be seen with you at school?”
“Um, people at school aren’t, um, nice? So he didn’t want people to know we were friends. I always thought it was because he was embarrassed of me,” Evan says, looking down again at his cast again. What he said wasn’t true, but he imagines it’s probably something Connor would do. That’s what Jared did too. Nobody ever wanted to be real friends with him. Family Friends is what Jared called them, so why couldn’t he and Connor be Secret Friends?
“Dear, why would he be embarrassed by being friends with you?” Mrs. Murphy asks softly, setting her hand gently on Evan’s shoulder. Evan feels bad that he’s actually comforted by her gesture, no one usually voluntarily touched him or tried to comfort him.
“Well, I guess because I’m not very popular, more of a…” Evan starts to say, then Zoe cuts him off, filling in for him with, “Nerd?”
“Zoe,” Larry says sternly, scolding her for being rude to their guest again, but not really contributing to the conversation at all, just swirling his wine glass.
“Isn’t that what you were going to say though,” Zoe challenges back, and she still seems angry, but Evan isn’t sure it’s about him being there anymore. That it might be more about her family.
“Loser, is actually what I was going to say, but I guess nerd works too,” Evan tells her, daring to look up at her. He thinks he might have caught the tiniest glimpse of a smile directed at him, maybe she thought he was funny in a self-depreciating way, but it fades as soon as her mom says, “That wasn’t very nice of him.”
“Connor wasn’t very nice, so it actually makes a lot of sense,” Zoe retorts, glaring at her mom. Evan starts to feel really guilty now. He just wanted to do something nice for these people, and he does think it’s helping Connor’s parents, but he thinks trying to force a fake version of Connor onto Zoe was only making things worse for her. Evan thinks she probably knew the real Connor, and he didn’t want to make her feel like her actual memories of him were wrong.
“Connor…Connor was a complicated person,” Mrs. Murphy offers, knowing the relationship Connor and Zoe had wasn’t good, but only wanting to remember when he was her sweet little boy, not someone who shoved people in hallways or terrorized their sister.
“No, Connor wasn’t a complicated person, he was a bad person and there’s a difference,” Zoe insists, demanding that her mom listen to her. Evan can see Mrs. Murphy starting to break down, little by little and it makes his heart break for her. Mrs. Murphy clearly cared a lot about Connor, and it makes him wonder what his mom would be insisting about him if the situation was different.
“Zoe, you refuse to remember the good things, refuse to see anything positive” Mrs. Murphy says to her daughter, her voice getting louder as if that would make Zoe agree with her.
“Because there weren’t any good things, Mom. If there were, tell me. Tell me all the good things about Connor,” Zoe yells back, looking like she might start crying, fed up with everything that was happening around her, distressed that her mom wouldn’t just believe her.
“There were good things, there were good things,” Mrs. Murphy is saying quietly, like she was trying to convince herself more so than her daughter.
Evan must really have a no sense in him because he blurts out, “I remember some good things about Connor”, in an attempt to diffuse the tension that was building between Zoe and her mom. He regrets it immediately because now Zoe is back to glaring at him and Mrs. Murphy is looking at him with her eyes full of hope, hanging onto every word.
Looking at Zoe again, Evan doesn’t think he can continue, and he tries to back out of it by saying, “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid of me really. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters, we want to hear what you have to say Evan,” Mrs. Murphy tells him and Evan thinks it might be the first time anyone’s ever told him that what he was saying mattered and they wanted to hear more. Evan reminds himself that he was there to do something good for Connor’s parents and that involved telling them nice things about Connor, even if they weren’t true. Even if they would crush Zoe.
Evan hesitates, looking back and forth between Mrs. Murphy and Zoe and decides to keep going, hoping that he might be able to apologize to Zoe later. That was his new plan. Say a couple nice things, go apologize to Zoe, and then never see the Murphy’s again. Leave them alone to grieve their son.
“Um, we had this one day this summer, where Connor um, he took me to this place, it had apples I think,” Evan says, floundering only a couple words into his lie, making use of the odd bowl of apples sitting as a center piece to the Murphy’s table.
“He took you to the orchard?” Mrs. Murphy asks, filling in the story for Evan without even trying, and Evan just nods along, agreeing with her.
“Connor loved going to the orchard when he was little. We used to take him and Zoe on little picnics there, but I thought it had closed down a while ago. I can’t believe he took you there. You two must have had a lot of fun,” Mrs. Murphy says, lost in the memories of when her kids got along so nicely, played together, and she didn’t have to worry over Connor so much.
“Yeah, we did. It was a great day. We just hung out and talked about all sorts of things. Things we wanted to do when we got older, like write a book or learn to sail, silly things really. We talked about girls and stuff. Inside jokes. Things good friends do, all fun things. We even started climbing trees there too. Connor wanted to see what the orchard looked like from up so high, so we climbed as high as we could, looking over everything. It was perfect. Until the branch broke and I fell. That’s how I broke my arm. But everything was okay, because Connor was there and he helped me, yeah everything was okay,” Evan says, wishing that what he was saying was true. Imagining what it would have been like if someone had been there when he fell. What it would’ve been like if he had a real friend. If someone had heard him when he crashed to the ground.
The way Mrs. and Mr. Murphy were looking at him, like they believed him, like they cared about the things he was saying, that their son wasn’t so dreadfully alone, convince him for the slightest moment that he was doing the right thing, then he sees Zoe. She looks devastated and infuriated at the same time. He didn’t think his story was that bad, but he knows his lie was affecting Zoe differently and he couldn’t do that to her. He didn’t actually know anything about Connor and Zoe did. Her feelings mattered more.
He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else, because all of sudden Zoe’s out of her seat and stomping upstairs without a word to anyone. Evan can hear her door slam and he flinches, looking remorsefully at Mr. and Mrs. Murphy.
“Zoe’s going through a lot, we’re sorry if she’s made this unpleasant, you’re going through a lot too,” Mrs. Murphy tells Evan, setting her hand back on his shoulder comfortingly.
“No, she’s, Zoe’s fine, but maybe I could go talk to her? Would that be okay?” Evan asks, knowing this might be his only chance to go apologize to her. She might hate him forever, and he’ll never get the chance to make it up to her, but he can’t lie to her.
Mr. and Mrs. Murphy look at each other, and Evan can’t get over how sad they look, about their son, about their daughter, about everything and he thinks his ask might be too much for them.
“Yeah, that’s okay. I think she needs to hear some good things about Connor. They didn’t get on well,” Mrs. Murphy tells Evan, dropping her hand from his shoulder. She gets up and starts clearing the table, and Evan takes that as his dismissal, an okay to go find Zoe. But he definitely wasn’t going to be telling her good things about Connor. Not even neutral things. Because he didn’t know him. He didn’t have anything to say about Connor Murphy.
Evan walks up the staircase because he heard Zoe do it when she left, but he has no idea where to go in the Murphy’s large expensive house. He looks at all their photos on the wall as he searches for Zoe’s room. In the photos they look like the perfect family. Baby Zoe and Connor holding on to one another, posing for photos, smiling because they were happy. As the get more recent and Zoe and Connor age, all the photos start to look forced. Staged. All of them fake. Maybe the Murphy’s were used to lies.
Evan finally finds what he thinks is Zoe’s room, if the large elaborately decorated “Zoe” hanging on the door was any hint. He knocks hesitantly, still unsure if he was doing the right thing, but he doesn’t think he can let Zoe believe his lies.
Zoe opens the door angrily and Evan thinks she’s wiping tears away from her eyes hastily, which seals it for Evan, he has to tell her.
“What do you want Evan? Are you here to tell me more about how wonderful my awful, awful brother was?” Zoe says, her glare piercing and fierce, and Evan is slightly terrified for a second, making him hesitate in responding.
Zoe turns away, trying to close the door on him, clearly annoyed at his presence, but Evan finally moves, reaching out for her, pulling her to face him again.
Evan does his best to look her in the eye—something he hated doing—and tells her, “Everything I just told you and your parents was a lie.”