Chapter Text
Evan blinked at the house in front of him.
The Murphys were loaded. Or, at least, close to it.
Huh.
He wouldn't have expected that from how humble and down-to-earth Connor's parents were at the school.
But Evan was glad he dressed up a little now.
He wasn't sure how long he stood in front of the door, but he eventually managed to get his arm to move and ring the bell.
It didn't take long for the door to open.
Cynthia Murphy greeted him warmly, but he didn't miss how puffy and red her eyes were.
"Evan, so glad you could make it."
He smiled back and did better at embracing her when she went for a hug. Cynthia reminded him of his own mom.
"Come in, come in. Dinner's almost ready. Zoe's in Connor's room - first door down the hall - if you want company while you wait. Please make yourself at home."
Zoe! That was her name.
"Thanks, Mrs. Murphy."
She nodded and went to another part of the home - presumably the kitchen. He wished he was hungry, because it smelled good.
Evan stood in the foyer, feeling like an idiot. He should've brought a gift or something.
He sighed. Standing around would only make him look like an idiot too. He figured following Mrs. Murphy's suggestion of hanging out with Zoe was probably the best course of action. It'd be weird if he ignored her, right? Or would it be weirder going to a girl he didn't know?
Dammit, this was bad. He should've called and said the school lunch made him sick or something. He should've canceled.
Evan forced himself to go down the hall. He knocked on the first door. A keep out sign was taped on the door. Evan assumed Connor put it there.
"H-hello? Zoe?"
He heard shuffling, but there wasn't an answer.
"Um, it's Evan? Evan Hansen? Can I - would you be okay if I came in? If not, that totally makes sense, I get it, just, uh, can you let me know? You know, if I can come in or not?"
Evan swallowed back the urge to slam his head against the door. Dumb. Stupid. He must sound so dumb.
More shuffling sounds, and then the door opened.
Zoe's expression was hard to read. It was clear she had been crying. But beyond that, Evan didn't know what to make of her.
"Um, hi," he said.
She snorted. "Hi? Really? Figures Connor's only friend was a dork."
She turned away from him quickly, but he caught the slight tremble of her lower lip.
"Well, come in," she said, her back still to him.
Evan awkwardly shuffled in and quietly took in Connor's room.
Clothes were scattered around the floor, with a couple of pairs of jeans draped over his desk chair. The desk itself was bare except for a keyboard and a figure from some anime.
Evan smiled at the figure. He had the same one. A little mecha suit.
He started to reach out to the figure but pulled back when he saw Zoe watching him.
"Sorry."
She didn't say anything. Just sat on the unmade bed.
Evan continued to look around. The dresser was dusty. Just some loose change scattered on top. A book Evan remembered from freshman year was one of the dustiest things there.
"I hated this book," Evan said without thinking, but Zoe hummed.
"Yeah, Connor did, too." Her voice was wistful. "I remember him complaining about it."
Evan merely nodded. "It sucked. ‘And so it goes.’"
Zoe let out a small laugh. "Connor wouldn't shut up about that line. I didn't think the book was that bad, and when I told him, he dramatically disowned me."
"It's a crime to like this book."
"Shut up. I didn't say I liked it."
"If you don't hate it, you like it."
"You suck."
Evan grinned sheepishly, drumming his fingers against his jeans. "Yep."
He kept looking around, almost trying to somehow absorb Connor.
He didn't have many pictures. Just a couple of family photos in nice frames on his bookshelf. The pictures looked old, too.
"That one was from..." Zoe trailed off, coming closer to see better. She didn't take the picture off the shelf. "Oh, I think maybe four or five years ago? Connor was growing out his hair. I told him he looked like a girl. He got so mad."
Evan didn't comment.
She sighed. "So, Connor never invited you over, huh?"
"Uh, no." Technically, not a lie. "But, like, to be fair, I never invited him to my place so..."
Zoe stared at him, like she was sizing him up or judging his very soul.
"You're weird."
Evan laughed lightly. Nervously. "Yeah, well..."
"Zoe! Evan! Dinner!" Larry Murphy called.
Zoe frowned, crossing her arms. "I don't even know why we're doing this. I'm not even hungry."
"Me neither," Evan admitted. "But your parents are trying. They probably just want to make sure you're okay."
She scoffed. "Yeah. Whatever. It's because you're here."
He tried not to overthink that. He was only here because of his letter, because he lied.
"Let's get it over with, yeah?” Did his voice sound as squeaky to her as it did to him? God, he hoped not. “The sooner we go out, the sooner we can end this and go, right?"
Zoe gave him a side glance but nodded. "Right. You're right. Okay. Let's go."
Cynthia had Evan sit next to Zoe and across from her husband. Evan tried not to fidget. Had this been Connor’s seat? Mr. Murphy was staring him down.
Dear Evan Hansen, don’t screw this up.
Mr. Murphy’s gaze was unrelenting. He wasn’t sure if he should meet Larry’s stare or keep staring at his placemat, or if he should say something or stay quiet or –
“Thank you for coming tonight, Evan,” Mr. Murphy said softly.
Evan wouldn’t call his tone warm, but it wasn’t cold either. He looked up and tried for a smile. “Yeah, thanks for having me. I, um, I’m sorry it wasn’t… um, never mind. Just –“ He sighed. “Thank you.”
Evan hoped he wasn’t as red as he felt. God, he sucked.
Mrs. Murphy’s entrance felt like a saving grace. She carried in a bowl of pasta and another with salad.
“Sorry, Evan, I didn’t think to ask earlier – you’re not a vegetarian, right? The sauce has meat. But I left some noodles plain, just in case.”
Evan shook his head. “I eat meat. Thanks.”
Her smile looked fragile as she placed the bowls on the table. “I’ll be back with the bread, but please, help yourselves.”
None of them made a move to fill their plates.
Evan tried not to look at the Murphys or even the serving utensils. He shouldn’t be the first to serve himself, right? Or maybe he should offer to serve them? No… no, that would be too weird.
This was awkward.
Evan wiped his clammy palms against his thighs. Fiddled with the buttons on his shirt cuffs. Took a slow breath.
“Well, this is stupid,” Zoe said, her voice tight.
“Zoe –“ her mom said as she came back with the garlic bread.
“No, this is stupid. Why are we even pretending we want to sit down together? We barely did it when Connor was alive! Why are –“
The silverware shook as hands hit the table. “Zoe, that is enough!” Mr. Murphy shouted.
“Larry –“
“Cynthia, don’t excuse her attitude!”
“I’m not, I just don’t want –“ Cynthia put down the garlic bread with a huff. “Zoe, Larry, we have a guest. We can discuss things later.”
Zoe sniffled. “I need a minute.”
She stood abruptly from the table, her chair scraping across the wood floor.
Evan watched as she raced from the room and down the hall. A door slammed.
Mr. and Mrs. Murphy looked lost.
Evan coughed. “Um, dinner smells great.”
Cynthia let out a shaky laugh, though tears were already rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you, Evan.”
Mr. Murphy sighed. “I’m sorry, Evan. Maybe we should do this another –“
“No,” Mrs. Murphy interrupted, wiping her eyes. “Please. I… I’d like to talk, if that’s okay. Can you tell us anything? Connor wrote you a letter. Was that something you guys did often?”
Evan swallowed. It suddenly felt warmer in the room. Mrs. Murphy’s gaze was piercing.
“N-no. Um…”
Her expression fell. She seemed to shrink even though she hadn’t moved.
Words started coming out before he could stop himself. “We didn’t, like, physically write a lot.”
Dear Evan Hansen, what the hell did you just say? Abort!
Evan cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the intense dry feeling in his mouth. “Um, email. We mostly used email.”
ABORT, IDIOT! STOP TALKING!
Life lit up her eyes. Even Mr. Murphy seemed hopeful.
“Email?” he repeated.
NO.
“Yeah. Like, just randomly. Our, uh, schedules didn’t really align. So email.”
SHUT UP!
Mr. Murphy seemed thoughtful. “What would you boys email about?”
Evan shrugged. “Classes usually. Or, like, whatever came to mind.” His mind went back to the little mecha figure on Connor’s desk. “Um. Anime. Sometimes. We both liked the one with the, uh, robot suits.”
Mr. Murphy snorted. “Anime,” he muttered, sounding a little disdainful. “Yeah, Connor liked that crap.”
“Larry!” Mrs. Murphy smacked her husband’s arm lightly. “Sorry, Evan.”
“It’s okay.”
Dear Evan Hansen, what are you doing????
Larry sighed and leaned forward. “Are you sure he didn’t hint at this?”
Evan bit his lip. There was one truth he could share. “I… I didn’t think so. In class, he said he’d rather be anywhere but here. I thought he was just saying he didn’t want to be at school, which, like, same. But I never thought…”
Cynthia finally sat down. “It feels like we never knew him,” she whispered.
Larry held her hand but stayed quiet.
Evan didn’t dare move. His heart was racing enough as it was. What was he doing? Saying he emailed Connor? What the hell?
“Evan?” Cynthia sniffled. “Since Connor confided in you… could you maybe share what he said to you?”
Evan froze. His mouth ran completely dry. He felt cold.
“Not tonight. It’s too soon. I… I’m not ready,” Cynthia admitted. “But maybe another day? You’d be welcome to stop by; we’ll have a real dinner. Things will be better. And you could share a few things?”
Say no. Say no. Say you deleted the emails. Say you forgot your email password. SAY NO.
“Sure.”
Dear Evan Hansen… WHAT THE FU-