cigarettes and valentines // tree bros

chapter 6

I found myself itching to get out of the house. Connor's words in the bathroom wouldn't leave my head. I was worried, but I wasn't sure that I was entirely entitled to be. It was driving me crazy. Did he mean it? Was he even talking about suicide? Should I have told someone? It didn't seem like Connor would be a fan of getting the school's care team involved.

It wasn't very late so there were quite a few people still milling around the park. Teenagers on dates, mostly, old couples and families. That was another thing I liked about nature – everyone seemed so relaxed. I stuck to the north side of the park, though, heading almost exclusively for the big Californian Black Oak – one of my favourites in the park. Especially in the fall, when all the leaves turn orange and make the world feel warmer. As I approached, however, there was a loud retching noise coming from nearby.

"Uh, h-hello? Ah, are, uh, are y-you okay?" I called quietly, simultaneously wanting to help and not wanting to intrude. The noise stopped. After waiting a few seconds and not getting a reply, I continued, taking a tentative step forward. "Ah, the ranger's station isn't that far from here, do you, uh... I can go get help? I-If you want... They, uh, they usually... their shifts are usually 'til late..."

"Fuck off," a hollow voice replied, quickly from the other side of the trunk. A voice I had heard too many times that day. "I don't need help, I don't need anyone, everything's totally fine. Just go away," a sigh accompanied what could only be described as a collapse. "I'm good." Failing to believe that, I made my way around anyway.

"I can't, yet, actually, because, uh...." I stuttered, struggling to articulate what I wanted to say without offending him. He was clearly already angry. "I'm still technically an employee here. If I leave you and you're ill and you decide sue the company then I'm going to be in a lot of trouble, so, uh..." As I inched closer, stealthily, I noticed a bottle of aspirin discarded in the grass. I picked it up, discovering it empty, with the seal freshly broken, and a flurry of movement erupted from a few feet away. For the fourth time that day, I found myself face to face with Connor Murphy.

"Evan Hansen," he laughed, joylessly, and attempted to snatch the bottle from my hand. I didn't let him – but also didn't look directly at him, trying to register the magnitude of the moment. "You should just go, pretend you never saw me."

"D-Did... have you taken all of these?" I asked, almost soundlessly, so quiet it wouldn't have been surprising if Connor didn't hear me. I looked up at his face, to check he had heard, noting the red around his eyes, bloodshot and puffy, and the tear tracks down his cheeks. His hair was still tied up, like he hadn't gone home after I saw him in the bathroom. "Were you throwing them up on purpose?" Connor shook his head, lowered his gaze. I felt the anxiety bubble up inside me, trying not to think about myself. The only action to take was to act how I would need in this situation. "You know it isn't instant, right? You're not just going to drop dead."

"What the fuck do you know?" Connor jeered, making another swipe for the bottle. I hid it behind my back. "Don't pretend to give a shit, Evan. You don't know me; you have no fucking clue what I'm going through. Nobody fucking understands and I'm absolutely sick to death of people telling me what I should do."

"You're going to have to go home," I ignored his words, "and your parents are going to notice something's up and...." Connor cut me off with an empty laugh, "what?"

"You actually think my parents will give a fuck if I turn up at home like this? God, they'd just think I was high and shout at me." He slumped against the tree, defeated. "It's all they ever do. Larry'll probably just be mad at me for dying." He held his head in his hands for a second, before slamming his fist against the grass.

"What about Zoe? Uh, your sister?" I ventured. "She'd be heartbroken."

"No, she wouldn't. She hates me, and she's got good reason to. You think I haven't thought this through?" I crouched to sit beside him, but he didn't seem to notice my presence, staring intently at his chipped black fingernails. "I've planned this for months. It's not like I randomly decided today wasn't for me and casually took a fuck load of pills."

"What about me, then?" I pulled my final trick, fighting the urge to check my watch. I really hoped Connor would just throw up the pills, because the last thing I wanted to do was make a phone call, especially to 911, but if I had to save a life, I would have to. "Do you know how happy it made me when you signed my cast? You're the only one who cared enough to; the only one who wanted to, who asked to."

"What does that fucking matter?" Connor demanded, but it wasn't just a rebuttal. His eyes searched mine, and I saw some kind of spark ignite under all the pain. For a moment, I couldn't stop staring, appreciating the soft brown – before coughing and looking away. "Don't lie, when your arm heals, you'll forget all about me. Nobody will even notice I'm gone."

"Uh, ah, no," I stuttered, before putting my hand on Connor's arm, "I-I know what you're going through. Well, I mean, not exactly, because I aren't you and we haven't really talked properly yet so I can't say I know the details but... we're alike, you and me, you know? So, ah, yeah, it matters to me. A lot," I paused, expecting an interruption but he didn't say anything. "When you said we could pretend to be friends, it made me kinda sad because, uh, I was, ah, hoping we could be actual friends but I didn't wanna weird you out, so..." I glanced down, at the scrawled "CONNOR" on my arm and smiled, "I don't want the only name on my cast to be just a sad memory of a friendship I could've had, Connor."

Without warning, Connor threw his arms around my neck, sobbing deeply. I don't do well with physical contact, fist bumps make me anxious, but Connor's hug didn't scare me, and I didn't really have a good excuse for letting it. I patted his back, lightly, smiling to myself, feeling accomplished. The tears began to soak through my shirt and I chuckled to myself, before stroking his back with my thumb. After a while, I pulled back as Connor wiped his tears and sent me a weak smile.

"I guess I should call myself an ambulance, huh, Hansen?" Connor laughed and I felt a rush of happiness flood my veins with the genuineness of it. I rose, with a smirk, and offered a hand to Connor.