bcs something is wrong with my laptop

2. Dear Evan Hansen...

“Dear Evan Hansen-”

He doesn’t quite shriek but it’s probably something as close a thing to it as Evan jumps and twists in his seat to see, dear god, Connor Murphy reading over his shoulder. His hand goes to the laptop lid to quickly shut it but Connor’s already leaning over and yanking the whole thing off the desk. Mortified, Evan watches as Connor turns around to lean against the back of Evan’s seat, his back pushing against Evan’s as he rests the laptop in his arms and reads out the words typed out on the screen.

“Dear Evan Hansen, today might be a good day and here’s why…”

Oh my god, is Evan going to be okay? Would it be worse if he tries to take the laptop out of Connor’s hands and risk getting punched for the sheer audacity of not letting him read it, or would it be worse to let him read the whole thing and then get punched because the guy is surely going to punch him after reading it. My god, they’re both terrible options. His hands are already sweating and his back is burning. Surely Connor can feel it radiating through his jacket.

“… talked to Connor a couple of times. We don’t really say much yet since we don’t know much about each other. But that’s just an opportunity to get to know each other, I guess? Who knows, maybe he likes trees and I could talk about that…”

Connor makes a noise but Evan can’t tell if it’s a scoff or a laugh or maybe even a scoffing laugh. Is this what purgatory feels like? Or is he exaggerating? No, he’s not. He’s in that limbo stage where he anxiously awaits his death sentence. It’s definitely a purgatory-like situation.

And then the laptop is shoved back in his face. Evan makes a grab for it and chances a glance behind him, settling the laptop back onto the desk.

“Nice,” Connor says, and that’s a smirk right there. “You’re surprisingly good at writing fake letters. I could almost believe this myself. Except for the tree part. That’s weird.”

“Oh… thanks?” says Evan. He takes the moment to close the laptop lid and hide any further evidence (a futile attempt but he feels better for it nonetheless).

“You say thanks weirdly too.”

“Sorry?”

Connor stares at him with a frown. “That’s also weird. But whatever. As long as you’re not writing creepy stuff, I couldn’t care less.”

Evan flushes in embarassment. “S… sorry.”

There’s a dangerous flicker in Connor’s expression, and Evan’s terrified that he’s stepped on a land mine. But then it settles into something somewhat neutral after what looks like some considerable effort on Connor’s part. His mouth is pressed into a thin scowling line, and Evan wonders what could possibly be going on in his head. He regrets thinking that when the next words out of Connor’s mouth are:

“Do you like Zoe?”

Mortifying. Absolutely and utterly mortifying. Evan shakes his head, waving his hands in flustered denial. “No, no, no. I don’t. I mean, I… I like her, yes. But like, not like that! I mean, you know, it’s just that she seems pretty cool? But I haven’t really talked to her. So how would I know? Haha. She probably doesn’t even remember who I am. Or my name. She might think it’s José. Because… you know what, nevermind. You… you probably don’t want to hear this anyway. But I didn’t mean it in a creepy way. At all. Zero creepiness here. No siree.”

Oh, my god. What is he saying? Connor’s totally going to see that he’s lying. Why is he lying? But then again, the truth isn’t any better. He looks back at Connor and, yup, he looks like he’s fighting a losing battle between staying calm and freaking socking Evan in the face.

“So…” Evan can see the tightly clenched grip Connor has on his bag strap. Yes, he thinks. Vent the anger on the bag. Better the bag than Evan. Bag, you will be dearly missed. Your sacrifice will be remembered fondly in our hearts. Bless your inanimate soul.

It’s about now that he realises he hasn’t been listening to what Connor’s said.

“… Zoe can take care of herself. I’m not her fucking babysitter. So if you want to talk to her, just talk to her. Don’t be such a fucking creep.”

Wait, wait. Is this…? Is Evan seriously going to be okay after this?

“Just remember I don’t have to do anything now, I can fucking get you whenever. So you watch yourself.”

Ah, there’s the threat.

Evan nods quickly, afraid to open his mouth in fear of making anything worse. The tentative balance of going from nil to full animosity is at stake here.

“Alright,” Connor says, seemingly satisfied with Evan’s response. He nods towards Evan’s laptop. “Don’t forget that. It’s good enough to fool your therapist.“

There’s a final nod from Evan before Connor turns around to leave the computer lab. Evan takes the following moment of silence to sit there and just… digest what just happened. He didn’t get hurt. He didn’t get humiliated (moreso than he thought he would). And the actual, living and breathing Connor Murphy essentially gave his version of granting permission for Evan to talk to his sister. It’s almost like… it’s almost like today might really be a good day?

Oh, my god.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)