Jump (Dear Evan Hansen)

Therapy

I sit in the waiting room, twiddling with my fingers uncomfortably. I refuse to look up because I hate the feeling of eye contact. Strangers looking at me freaks me out, which could explain the "events" that occurred the other day. The only person who knows is Connor. The rest of the school only saw me run, even though I wish they didn't. Only Connor really knows what happened. I've ended up talking to my former bully more than his sister, my crush. I thought I finally knew what it was like to have a best friend when I started talking with Jared, but Connor understands me better. Don't get me wrong, Jared is a good friend, he just doesn't care for me the way Connor does. Jared is not going to hug me in the bathroom stall while I'm a wreck.

"Evan," Dr. Sherman calls out, making me realize how caught up in my thoughts I was. I stand up, continuing to stare at the floor, and make a beeline towards the door of his office. I sit down on the sofa, and he mirrors me in his desk chair. Dr. Sherman grabs his clipboard and pen, and then makes awkward eye contact with me. I decided earlier today that I wouldn't tell him about Connor.

"So, Evan, do you have this weeks letters for me?"

I dig into my pocket and grab a few folded pieces of paper. I shove them into the hands of Dr. Sherman, who opens them one by one, skimming his eyes over them.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think we're missing one from Wednesday."

"Connor still has it," I say, and instantly regret letting those words slip out of my mouth. I forgot that he grabbed it, how could I suddenly remember?

"I'm sorry, who?"

"What?"

"You said somebody has your letter. Who is it?"

"You have my letters, they're right there."

"Evan, don't play with me."

I feel my hands begin to clam up, as they form into tight fists of anxiety. My stomach tenses and my shoulders stiffen. I don't need anyone knowing. I don't want anyone knowing. My name continuously slips from Dr. Sherman's lips, and spirals throughout my head. I bite my lip and tap my foot.

"I hope that kid isn't your friend, he doesn't sound like a good one," Dr. Sherman says with a laugh. I feel my hands ball up into tighter fists. Anger spikes in my blood. I shoot up from the sofa and give direct eye contact to Dr. Sherman.

"Connor did nothing wrong, okay? Connor is the greatest friend I've ever had! He's even better than Jared! Connor was insecure, and I saw him as a bully when he shoved me in the hallway, but then we became closer. Everybody thinks he's a failure, and everyone finds something wrong with him. I've bonded with Connor because he gets me. Because he is me."

I look down at my hands, which are shaking rapidly. I feel beads of sweat form on my forehead. My eyes become puffy as tears well up in them. I breath short breaths of air. Dr. Sherman looks up at me, his mouth open. For once, his pen is still. I storm out of the room, not wanting to break down anymore in front of him. I bite my lip and go back into the waiting room, and out the door. I walk down the hallway of the complex, and then begin to pick up the pace when I realize Dr. Sherman might come after me, wanting answers, making sure I'm "okay". The only person that could make me "okay" right now is Connor. Correction: the only person that can make me actually feel okay is Connor. My phone vibrates; mom. I pick up, wanting to make sure that nothing is wrong.

"H-hello?"

"Hi Evan, it's mom. Dr. Sherman just called me saying you fled his office?"

I hang up without saying another word. Just go to the Murphys. Just go to the Murphys. I sprint out the door of the complex after almost falling down the stairs and cross the street. I manage to locate their house via memory, and my phone. I reach their house, panting, and jog up the sidewalk and to the door. My hand raps against the door and I bend over, placing my hands on my knees. The door opens and I look up, Mrs. Murphy's face greeting me.

"Evan?"

"Hi Mrs. Murphy. Is Connor here?"

"Um... yes," she says slowly, sounding surprised at my request. "Connor," she yells up the staircase, "can you come down here?" I hear footsteps and a voice.

"Mom, whatever you think I did, I'm pretty sure Zoe did- Evan?"

"Hi."

"What's... what's up?"

"I uh... can we talk?"

"Sure," he says, and begins to walk up the stairs. I follow him, all the way to his room. He sits on his bed and I plop down next to him.

"What happened? Is everything okay?"

I feel the tears return to my eyes, leading me to bite my lip, attempting to hold them back.

"Evan? Evan what's wrong? It's okay, you can tell me," he says as he places his hand around me. I feel myself become weak, and I begin to cry. I lean into Connor, who only pulls me closer, allowing me to let myself go. I cry harder, and he sits next to me, gently rubbing my arm and lending me support. My lungs feel weak, and my eyes begin to ache. I sniffle as my nose becomes runny but Connor doesn't care that I look like a mess. He whispers things in my ear, telling me that it's okay. That when I don't feel strong enough to stand, I can reach out a hand. That he will come running. That I will be found. My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I don't care. I wrap my arms around Connor.

I will be found.