These Broken Parts

Today Was Fun

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, EVAN??"

Evan flinched, closing the door softly behind him.

"The school called me at work, you weren't answering your cell phone. Do you know how WORRIED I've been???"

Evan gulped. "I-I-I'm, I just, I'm sorry. I just..."

Heidi Hansen stared at her son, anger and worry flashing in her eyes.

"I just, um, well I had a-a panic attack and I just - I just left."

"You left?? Instead of going to the nurse, or calling me, or any of the other things we've discussed?"

Evan shrugged, staring at his feet. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Heidi huffed in frustration, deflating a little. "Okay, okay... I'm sorry you had a panic attack, Evan. We'll have to talk to Dr. Sherman about it. But next time, you HAVE to go to the school nurse or call me, okay? I was SO worried!"

Evan nodded at his shoes. "Y-yeah, okay. Um, can I go upstairs now?"

Heidi sighed, her anger washing away. "Sure, yeah. I'll let you know when dinner is ready."

He was halfway up the stairs when his mom's voice drifted up to him, "and you're grounded for a week!"

Evan flinched, but he knew it was less than what he deserved. He got upstairs, closed his door, and sat on his bed, staring at the piece of paper with Connor's number on it for a long time.

~*~*~

Connor was so numb to his parents yelling at him and grounding him that he didn't even flinch when he got home and his father went off on him. It was the usual bullshit. He was grounded for two weeks, he'd be driven to and from school, blah blah blah.

When he passed Zoe's room, she made some offhand remark about what a screw-up he was, and he told her to fuck off. So, a typical night in the Murphy household.

Connor slammed his door and fell onto his bed, pulling Evan's letter out and reading it over and over.

Now that he'd gotten over the initial shock of seeing Zoe's name in the letter, the rest of its contents sunk in. This letter was... sad. It was filled with pain, just like Connor was. He sat up suddenly, as he read it for probably the tenth time.

It was a suicide note.

Connor gritted his teeth, thinking about what he had originally planned to do today. Maybe this was why he had connected with Evan. Maybe they had more in common than Connor realized.

He picked up his phone, his gut telling him to text Evan, to make sure he was okay. But then he realized he'd never gotten Evan's number. He sighed and slammed his phone onto the bed in frustration.

Oh well, he told himself, it's not like it's your problem. Why do you even care? No one ever cared about you when you were- He cut the thought off, realizing that wasn't true. One person HAD cared. He just hadn't been able to let his walls down enough to open up, hadn't allowed himself to be vulnerable enough. He'd pushed away the only person who HAD cared.

He lay back with his head on his pillow, picking his phone up again, hands shaking. He started a new text message, unsure what to say, but wanting to try. Maybe it was his encounter with Evan, giving him the courage to try. He wasn't sure, but he found himself typing, anyway:

First day sucked. Miss you.

He hit send before he could change his mind.

Minutes went by with no response. Then, the three little dots appeared. He sat up, staring intently at his phone, heart hammering.

They disappeared. Reappeared. Then nothing.

Connor's heart sank. Ten minutes went by, then fifteen. He dropped his phone onto the bed again. The one person he needed to talk to, and...

He shook with anger and frustration. He deserved this. This was his fault. He was a shit person. He'd pushed away the only one who cared about him. Why was he such an epic screw up? Why couldn't he do ANYTHING right, even just once?? His skin felt tight, like a scratchy sweater that had shrunk in the wash. He scratched at his arms, leaving tracks where his nails bit into his flesh, but it wasn't enough... It wasn't enough...

He reached into his night table drawer and pulled out the blade he kept there. He stared at it for a while before unclasping his bracelets and seeking the release he needed. The blade bit into his skin, bright red blood welled up, and he let out a hiss of pain, his shoulders relaxing. He stared at the blood welling on his wrist for a long time, letting his mind get lost in memories of last school year, last spring, and of all the ways he'd fucked up.

Finally, when the blood threatened to spill over onto his bed sheets, he grabbed some tissues and pressed them to the wound. If his parents knew he was still cutting, they'd send him back to in-patient therapy. It wasn't ever deep, anyway, just a way to let the pressure out. It wasn't a big deal.

Once the bleeding had stopped, he put his chunky bracelets back in place so no one would see the myriad of marks and scars, then fell back on his pillows and closed his eyes.

Two things startled him awake an hour later – his mom calling him to dinner, and his phone chiming that he had a message. He sat up so fast, he fumbled his phone and dropped it on the floor. He grabbed it and opened it – but it wasn't who he expected.

Hi, Connor, it's Evan Hansen. Had fun. Maybe we can hang out again?

The message brought Connor's thoughts back to the Evan's letter. He rubbed sleep and frustration from his eyes, sighing heavily. He stared at the message for a long time.

Tomorrow. The Autumn Smile apple orchard?

Connor didn't know why he suggested the orchard, it had been closed for years, but it was still one of the few places that held happy memories for him. And since it was abandoned, less people would see them together.

Evan's reply came quickly.

See you there!