Chapter Text
[“Dear Connor Murphy,
Today is going to be a great day and here’s why:
-First day of school! New Year New Us, I guess!
…God that sounds lame even to me… that’s how you can tell it’s REALLY lame.]
Teardrops mar the perfect digital blue and white lines that usually calm the writer when writing to his boyfriend and best friend.
[Connor, how the hell am I supposed to do this without you?
Mom keeps talking about how I’m gonna make friends! And how they can sign my cast! Like that isn’t a cry for help of the socially awkward with no friends!
Which is bullshit and it makes me so angry, Con. I have friends. Well, one.
I only really needed one.
Con, I miss you.
Why did you have to jump?
Why didn’t it take me out too?
Sincerely,
Well…you know. “]
Evan slammed his laptop closed with the click, still unused to how his strength distributed with half a mile of fiberglass encasing his arm.
Outside his window the blonde could see acres of blue summer sky (almost his favorite color but not quite. Evan liked more saturation than sunny.) and it felt like it was mocking him.
How dare the sky be so bright and so beautiful? Today of all days?
The first day of school was usually hell for boys like Evan. Boys who flapped their hands and winced when sound or light was too much. Boys who couldn’t quite make sense of facial expressions and who sarcasm was completely lost on.
Boys with autism who didn’t have any friends because they didn’t understand boys like him.
One year ago, Connor Murphy changed that.
Evan had never met a bastard like Connor. Tall as a sequoia and just as thin, who painted his nails black and painted his skin red in criss-crossing lines.
Lines that foundation didn’t cover up enough for boys like Evan to not see.
Boys like Connor didn’t change facial expressions much. Boys like Connor didn’t smile or laugh, didn’t talk much unless they got so angry and frustrated that the only thing they knew how to do was punch and hit and yell.
Boys like Connor didn’t make friends either.
Boys like Connor keep to themselves while boys like Evan can’t reach out.
-
“Why do you cover your arms so mmm…much? It…t gets h- Humid. Inside.” Evan had begun their relationship by putting his foot in his mouth and by god was he gonna commit.
Connor had raised an eyebrow and Evan had flinched. Preparing for ridicule.
Something shifted in the taller boy when he saw that flinch.
He saw a kid that was used to getting picked on for who he was and for asking questions.
That flinch told him everything he needed to know about Evan’s home and school life.
“I…I cover them because long sleeves are cool.”
Evan blinked at him.
“Fashionably … cool?” Evan was proud of himself for only needing a short pause. He hated ‘c’ words.
Or he did, one year ago.
Connor shook his head ruefully and smirked.
“Geez kid haven’t you ever seen Nightmare Before Christmas? Teaches you all about kids like me.”
“Delinquents?”
“Freaks.”
Evan didn’t know what to say to that. He did like Connor’s striped shirt though, and he could kind of see the Burton-esque flairs to the outfit, after Connor showed him the movie.
That was what Evan did. He focused on tiny details while the big, giant, glaring details went soaring clean over his head until it all backed up and he couldn’t function couldn’t speak couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t
Connor pulled down his sleeves enough to hide what the foundation didn’t.
And he started looking out for boys like Evan.
Because boys like Connor know what it feels like to be beaten for asking the wrong question.
To be ridiculed for being different.
And now boys like Evan had to face the school year alone.