Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I mean, face it: would anybody even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?

Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,

Me.

Evan sighed as he finished typing his letter. So much for writing a letter that would actually make Dr. Sherman happy. But he couldn't lie about how he felt, couldn't fake being happy. He couldn't see any reason for any day in the near future to actually be a good day.

That was what Dr. Sherman was supposed to change. It was what all of the therapists Evan had had in the past few years were supposed to do. Therapy session after therapy session, however, all Evan saw was endless spending of Heidi's money and worsening anxiety and depression. No techniques had worked, that was obvious in his typical school day: not talking in classes, enduring Jared's snarky comments, and eating lunch alone. He could barely focus in Spanish, too worried about having to answer questions or present to even think about grammar. He honestly felt sick to his stomach when he even thought about speaking in class, and had been doing his nervous tick of pulling at his shirt nearly the whole school day from his nerves. Not to mention the fear of other students, and what they thought about him, and what he thought about himself.

Sometimes Evan wished he had broken more than his arm.

He hit print and leant back in his chair, knowing that the slow school printer wouldn't print immediately, and that going over to wait for his paper to print would look weird. No matter if he was alone in the computer lab, he would still feel awkward about it. Was therapy even working if he was so worried about the assignments? The only good part of his day had been the fact that no one had paid him any attention after the incident with Jared and Connor, and Evan was sure that Dr. Sherman wouldn't consider that in the same positive light.

The worst part was that he couldn't even be himself. Evan had a huge secret, one not even Heidi knew — he was bi. He hadn't realized until junior year when he noticed himself looking at his male peers as much as the females. He had never told anyone, terrified of giving the other students another reason to pay attention to and tease him. Even if he did come out, who would he tell? Heidi? Jared? Heidi barely knew him as was, and Jared would be unbearable. He'd probably end up spreading it to the whole school as well. No, Evan couldn't tell anyone.

"So," A voice suddenly rang out from behind Evan, making him jump and turn around to see Connor. The other teen seemed less angry than before, but still put Evan on edge. "What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, I, um, I fell out of a tree, actually," Evan's face flushed. Jared was right, it sounded stupid. The story probably made Connor think Evan was childish.

"You fell out of a tree?" Connor let out a laugh, though Evan couldn't tell if it was in disbelief or something else. "That is just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. Oh my god."

"I know," Evan looked down at his feet and tried to laugh along. He wasn't really in the mood to have a conversation and needed to catch the bus, but what if Connor thought he was being rude?

"No one's signed your cast," Connor noticed, with what Evan thought could possibly be a hint of concern. No, probably just confusion at why he didn't have any friends like someone normal.

"No, I know," Evan replied, twiddling his fingers at the hem of his shirt.

"I'll sign it," Connor said, surprising Evan. Why would the loner stoner even care that Evan broke his arm?

"Oh," Evan responded. "Um...you don't have to."

"Do you have a Sharpie?" Connor asked, glancing over Evan's computer space.

Evan paused for a moment before slowly pulling out the Sharpie Heidi had given him that morning and handing it to Connor. He didn't really know why Connor wanted to sign it, but he couldn't just say no. Then Connor might think Evan was weird, just like everyone else, and he would be the weird kid that not even the stoner would talk to.

Connor grabbed the Sharpie and began to sign his name. A frown crossed Evan's face when the other boy finished writing — the name spanned the entire length of the cast, making it super noticeable, which meant everyone would see it, which meant everyone would think he was a stoner.

"Oh, great, thanks," Evan took back the sharpie and shoved it in his pocket.

"Now we can both pretend that we have friends," Connor said in a slightly cynical tone, although there seemed to be a touch of meaning there.

"Good point," Maybe everyone noticing the signature on Evan's cast wouldn't be so bad after all. Even with the whole Connor being a stoner so maybe other people would think Evan was a stoner worrying he had considered, he had never wanted anything more desperately than a friend (a real one, not a "family friend"). Maybe Connor understood Evan more than he thought.

Evan had turned away to walk towards the printer when Connor interrupted his action again.

"Is this yours?" Connor said, holding out a piece of paper. "I found it on the printer. 'Dear Evan Hansen'. That's your name, right?"

Evan felt a surge of fear flow through him. "Oh, that's just a stupid, it's a paper I had to write for a, um, for an assignment..."

He watched hopelessly as Connor's eyes skimmed the letter, coming to a stop around the middle as Evan's heart sank. He knew what was written there.

"'Because there's Zoe'," Connor read aloud slowly, turning his gaze back to Evan. "Is this about my sister?"

"No," Evan immediately shook his head, eyeing Connor's shifting countenance. The sarcastic, joking manner had disappeared. "Not at all."

"You wrote this because you knew that I would find it," Connor's voice hardened as he glared at Evan. Evan barely noticed himself backing away from the other boy, the angry tone jarring him.

"What?" Evan's eyes widened at the accusation. Why would he even do such a thing? Anyone would be crazy to try to anger Connor on purpose. Evan didn't even want to do it accidentally, like Jared had — though Jared may have done that on purpose, Evan knew as well as anyone what a jerk his "family friend" could be.

"You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out, so that I would find it," Connor continued, looking angrier by the second.

"Why would I do that?" Evan exclaimed. He knew that Connor was temperamental, but he couldn't believe the ideas pouring out of the other boy's mouth. How did Connor even think of these explanations for what had happened?

"So I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister, and freak out, right?" Connor's voice raised. "And then you can tell everyone that I'm crazy, right? Fuck you."

Connor began to storm out of the computer lab, striding quickly away, his movements stiff and face red.

"Wait!" Evan's face fell and, shocking himself, he ran forward to stop Connor from leaving. "If anyone's crazy, it's me, please give that back, I need it."

"Why would you need some creepy letter to yourself?" Connor turned around with a scowl on his face. Evan took a couple steps back, his surge of confidence quickly receding.

"It's not a letter to myself — well, it is, but it's just a therapy assignment," Evan struggled to keep his gaze up, but he saw Connor beginning to calm down a bit. Was that a glint of understanding in his eyes? "My therapist said to, um, write about why each day is going to be a good day? And today really wasn't great, and so I wrote that, and, well, Dr. Sherman might not like it, but, um, I have to take it to my appointment, so..."

"Why did you mention Zoe?" Connor's face visibly softened, though Evan wasn't quite sure why.

"I don't know," Evan admitted. He used to think he had a crush on Zoe, actually, but realized he had never talked to her and decided he just wanted to be friends with her one day if he could. "I guess, she's just a really positive person? Yeah, she seems really nice and she's super talented in jazz band and I sorta look up to her. I wish I could, uh, I could be normal like her."

"Trust me, she's not normal," Connor chuckled darkly, a hint of real humor escaping along with it. "She can be kind of a bitch, but, um...sorry, I overreacted."

"It's okay," Evan quickly replied. He couldn't let Connor feel guilty about finding some weird kid's therapy assignment and getting offended. It's not like the letter made Evan seem any more normal.

"No, it's not," Connor frowned and ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly looking pained. "I, um, I need to go. Here."

Connor handed back the letter and sped around and out of the computer lab, leaving Evan alone.

Evan sighed as he picked up his things, not really looking forward to a crowded bus ride to his appointment.

Evan had been waiting at the bus stop for ten minutes. He knew that the three o'clock bus wouldn't come for another ten minutes, but found himself itching to get away from the terminal filled with strangers. Many of them were other students, although that didn't exactly help — really, it just made him more anxious.

"Hey, José," Zoe had just approached Evan, with a joking tone and a soft smile on her face. "I just wanted to make sure you were really alright? Connor can be an asshole, he hasn't been bothering you, has he?"

"Yeah," Evan stood, transfixed. Not only was someone talking to him nicely, but it was Zoe, and it wasn't even the obligatory "sorry about my brother" because she had already done that earlier. And she had gone along with the whole "José" thing, so maybe she didn't think he was super weird. "I mean no! No, uh, it was just an accident this morning, I'm really fine."

"Are you sure?" Zoe let a frown slip onto her face, her eyebrows furrowing. "You're awfully quiet and nervous all the time."

"Oh, that's, um, that's just my, um..." Evan trailed off, shocked that Zoe had noticed him and maybe even his anxiety. As a medical problem, that is, not just something to laugh at.

"Hey, if you need someone to talk to, I'm happy to help," Zoe's lips turned slightly upward. Her head tilted as she waited for his response.

"Oh! Um, thanks..." Evan scratched the back of his head nervously before putting his hands back in his pockets. "I don't know, I guess I just don't really feel like I fit in? It's hard, um, you know, for me to talk to people, and I, uh, am scared? Yeah, I feel like everyone hates me, and that if they really knew me it would be even worse, and, oh my god, why I am I telling you all of this, and now I'm rambling, and I'm sorry, I'll stop talking now."

Evan turned red and stared at his shoes. He couldn't believe that he had just spilled more of his thoughts to Zoe, who he had only talked to for the first time today, than he had to Dr. Sherman. Even worse, they were his darkest thoughts, ones that would just make Zoe think he was an anxious mess. Evan was an anxious mess, but that was besides the point — Zoe's first impression of him wasn't great, and he had just made it even worse and more embarrassing.

"Hey," Zoe placed an arm on Evan's shoulder, making him look up. She seemed to have just had a good idea, for a smile graced her features despite everything Evan had just said. "Not everyone hates you, okay? I think you're funny. And everyone's weird, don't worry about being 'normal'. Actually, I think there's someone at this school who has, um...a similar mindset as you. I know who runs the school Tumblr, and they told me about the most recent post. Someone admitted some similar stuff, I think. Try to get in contact with them, yeah? Also, I'll give you my number, because we're definitely going to be friends from now on. Do you have a Sharpie?"

Evan grinned back and pulled out the Sharpie, watching contentedly as Zoe signed her name as big as Connor had, except on the other side. She then wrote her number smaller on the cast and ended it with a smiley face.

At that very moment, the bus arrived, and Evan started moving towards it when he realized Zoe wasn't getting on.

"I'm late to jazz band, sorry, I gotta go, Evan," Zoe called out as he climbed in. "Talk to you later!"

Evan couldn't help but feel giddy as he sat down. Zoe had been running late for jazz band, but had stopped to talk to him because she was worried. Suddenly the multitude of strangers on the bus didn't seem quite so bad, because he had just made a friend, and it was Zoe.

Maybe things could get better.

Evan arrived at Dr. Sherman's office minutes before his appointment. He quickly went to sign in at the front desk.

"Evan Hansen," He mumbled, although thankfully the receptionist was familiar with him and didn't ask him to repeat himself.

The woman nodded in acknowledgement and indicated that he was good to sit down and wait. Evan rushed over to sit in his favorite chair next to the fish tank, where no one could sit beside him.

He had barely waited a minute before being called, having barely made his appointment. He took a deep breath and entered Dr. Sherman's main office room.

"Evan, it's good to see you," Dr. Sherman greeted, smiling at him. "Come, sit down, and let's get started. We only have half an hour today."

Evan sat down carefully on the couch across from the doctor's arm chair, letting the blue hues of the walls and decorations relax him. The bus and waiting room had ebbed away at the contentment and calm Zoe had brought him, but at least this room helped pull some of it back.

"Do you have your letter?" Dr. Sherman asked with her hand already outstretched. Evan dug the letter out of his backpack and handed it to her, watching her read it. He had known how she'd react when he wrote it, but it was so much worse to actually see how her expression darkened as she got farther into his thoughts. "Evan...I think we need to talk about this. How were you feeling when you wrote it? Did anything unusual happen today, or is this how all of your letters have been?"

"Well, um, this boy was a bit mean today," Evan sputtered, trying to move on quickly. "But he apologized! Um, that was after I wrote this...then I was waiting for the bus, and I made a friend! Zoe came and talked to me and gave me her number! Also she told me about someone who was similar to me that I can try to email later. I was actually thinking, uh, maybe I could write my letters to that person instead?"

"Oh, wow, Evan, that's great," Dr. Sherman seemed pleased. "I would like you to tell me how it goes with this mystery person and with Zoe, but I'll still need you to keep writing these letters for me, okay? I need to know how you're doing. Can you tell me a bit more about today's letter, and maybe a bit more about what exactly happened today?"

The half hour was soon filled with Evan's babbling about how he had been feeling. Somehow blurting it all out to Zoe had made it much easier to talk to Dr. Sherman about it. He knew that this positive high would soon go away, and he would probably go back to feeling unimportant and lonely tomorrow, but he also knew that he had one friend and another possible one.

Evan now knew that he had hope. So he walked out of therapy with a smile on his face for the first time in years, and headed home.

Chapter Text

Evan drummed his fingers against the keys on the keyboard, impatient for the laptop to boot up. As soon as he had arrived home, he had rushed to his room. Heidi wasn't even home yet, so he didn't see any issue. Except for maybe the fact that his stomach had been filled with nerves, and not even with the normal pain. This time, it was more like butterflies. He was planning on looking for that Tumblr post and maybe even trying to contact the original poster. Somehow trying this online gave him different nerves than if he had to do it in person.

Suddenly a large picture of a lizard popped up (he had taken it years ago, at some theme park, and he thought it extremely calming to see this animal in the middle of a manmade area looking completely fine), and he rushed to type in his password. Evan barely shut down his computer completely, choosing the hibernate option so that all of his tabs would stay open, and so Tumblr was already open.

All he had to do was search for the school blog, ran by an anonymous student. The posts were moderated by the owner, so he knew that there wouldn't be too much clutter to sort through if it was a recent enough submission. Scrolling past a few selfies of some sports team, Evan noticed a different post. This was purely text, except for a picture of a large orchard. He read it quickly.

I think you could say that I'm more lonely than most people, which I fucking hate, but I also think we all know what some of that feels like. How even when you know someone's gestures, you don't know their thoughts, and how people are like houses with vast rooms and tiny windows. How you yourself can feel exposed, but also like nobody gets you.

Evan held his breath as he read the next part.

The worst thing to feel exposed about and at the same time hidden is the fact that I'm gay and if people knew they'd just hate me even more.

No way...oh no, what if the reason Zoe had told him about this post because she could tell? What if everybody could tell? Evan tried to brush this off, maybe she had been talking about the loneliness part of it all.

I feel like I'm the least understood, that people have no clue what my life is actually fucking like, they just label me and write me off. There's a giant field and various clearings between people, and I guess we're all supposed to find a tree worth climbing, but I just feel like that one sad tree in the middle of the field all alone.

Evan let out his breath. From his short rambling earlier, Zoe had somehow connected him to someone who seemed to feel the exact same way as him. Even though he wasn't being talked to directly, this post was the closest he had ever felt to being understood. He smiled at the reference to forests and trees, and the picture of the orchard — whoever had written it seemed to have a similar interest.

For a moment, all he did was look at the picture of the orchard. It was a breathtaking field, but that wasn't exactly was caught his eye. The part that did was the line of trees surrounding it, trees that towered above everything else. He could just imagine being high up in one of those, separated from everything else. His gaze was soon drawn to a solitary tree in the middle of the field, and everything about the anonymous student's post just clicked. Evan knew exactly what the poster was saying.

Evan closed his eyes for a second before typing a response to the post.

THIS.

[email protected]

He had a secret email account, separate from his personal and school emails, that he used for things like Tumblr and other accounts he didn't want Heidi to see. She wasn't overbearing in what he did online, but just in case she decided to check, she did know his personal email's password.

This account was the perfect way for him to contact the poster — he had obviously been anonymous for a reason, and Evan wasn't exactly looking to out himself either, just connect with the other person.

Hitting post, he took a deep breath and watched the post go through. Now, all he could do was hope the moderator approved his reply and wait.

An hour later, Evan's computer dinged.

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: Aug 29 at 5:42 PM

SUBJECT: Hey.

Hey (what do I call you?),

Tell me if I'm reading too much into this, but when you replied "this"...are you the same way as me? I need to know, otherwise I really don't understand why you'd say that and leave your email address.

—Craig (this isn't my real name, I don't really want to share that yet)

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: Aug 29 at 5:56 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Hey.

Craig,

Just call me Will. And , well, I'm bi. So it’s a little different for me. I pretty much agreed with everything you said, everything you feel. Crazy, right? I know exactly why I left my email, your post just resonated so deeply with me. It's sorta sad to admit that I feel lonely all the time and don't really have friends, but that's just who I am, I guess.

—Will (don't worry, I'm not ready either)

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: Aug 29 at 7:02 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Hey.

Will,

Wow, I can't believe there's another closeted LGBT kid at school. You have no idea how hard it's been for me — I can't wait to leave this fucking place. Things used to be okay, I guess, but I realized I was gay in elementary school, and always felt different. I guess other people saw my struggling with my identity as anger issues, and that's what it turned into.

I'm trying to stop that, but I just can't stand school. I guess I should try to help you understand. Everyone else just sees me as an uncaring loser. You probably think the same, you just don't know that that's the same person writing this, because nobody actually knows me. My sister and I used to be close, but she just thinks the same about me as everyone else. My dad has sort of given up on me and my mom still believes in me to the point where she'll tolerate anything, making him strict and her extremely lenient. None of them understand me anymore, and I've never told them (or anyone else) that I'm gay. What the hell is a normal family supposed to be if people think my family is normal, but we're really just a fucking mess?

I hope things have at least been better for you.

—Craig

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: Aug 29 at 7:48 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Hey.

Craig,

To be honest, I'm not that much better. I didn't realize I was bi until last year, but I've struggled with anxiety and depression for years. My dad left when I was in elementary school, and my mom is barely at home. So my family doesn't get me either, and I don't have any friends besides this guy who only hangs out with me so his parents will pay for his car insurance. You probably think who you see is just a stuttering mess who can't stand to be around people because he's just some shy wimp. I guess I'm saying the same thing in this email, but at least I can try to explain who I am. If I ever actually talked to you I probably wouldn't be able to get half the words out.

This might sound weird, but I was actually wondering if I could write these letters I do to you, to help me focus on the positives. I don't know, ever since I saw your post, I just feel like you understand more than anyone else.

—Will

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: 29 Aug at 8:13 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Hey.

Will,

Go for it. I know exactly what you felt, even though your first response was only one word. Maybe helping you will help me. I think I also tend to focus on negatives, and I have for the majority of my life. Hopefully that will change, but you have to tell me if I'm being a dick. I don't really talk to people.

—Craig

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: 29 Aug at 9:22 PM

SUBJECT: Me

Dear Craig,

So today was the first day in awhile that wasn't completely terrible for me. I mean, school sucked, but afterwards I may have made a friend, a real friend.

It's not much for today, but it's a start, and this has just given me another reason to feel genuinely happy for the first time in forever. Don't worry, you haven't been a dick (so far).

At least we both have someone who understands us now.

Sincerely,

Me (Will — sorry, this is just how I usually sign my letters, so I think I'll stick with it)