A Fill-In Friend || Dear Evan Hansen [EDITING]

.: One :.

Connor's POV

"Connor, sweetie, breakfast!" Cynthia calls from downstairs. I groan. 

Another family breakfast that'll just tear to shreds.
Another school that I'll just get kicked out of. 

I grab my bag, sprinting down the stairs while I attempt at brushing through my wavy hair with my fingers. 

"What, trying to hide weed in your long ass hair now?" Zoe snickers. 

"Will you just shut the fuck up!?" I yell back, sitting down. 

Cynthia senses the tension in the air, serving the half-burnt breakfast onto the wooden table. "Good morning, Connor!" She smiles, ignoring the fight Zoe and I had just had. 

"Yeah, good morning," Larry mumbles, not bothering to look up from his precious newspapers. Silence fills the air and Cynthia once again tries to save it. 

"Hey, Connor." She says in a tone everyone in this family knew. The "I'm worried about you" tone of voice. 

"What, Mom? Don't want me going to school high? Because, for once, I'm not." I scoff. 

"No, I know you're not high, sweetie. I just need to talk to you about getting some friends. In every school we've been to,  you've never had a friend. Or, not that I know of, at least. I want you to try this time. I know it's halfway through the year, but someone has got to like things you like by now. I believe in you, I really do. Now, will you promise to meet someone today?" Cynthia gazes into my eyes although I'm not looking at her. 

"You know what? Fine, I'll meet a friend," I say, lowering my voice to a mutter before I say, "Let's see how far that goes."

"Excellent! I'm so proud of you, meeting friends!" She cheers.

"Come on, Dipshit, or I'm leaving without you," Zoe calls from the front door. 

"Hey, don't you dare fucking call me dipshit, Dipshit," I yell back at her, although using her own insult.

"And, maybe you and your sister could, I don't know... Get along?" She smiles, trying to convince me to be nice.

"Not happening, Cynthia. You've already crossed the line with the whole friend thing." I look away, once again picking my bag up and heading out of the door. Zoe is no longer at the front door, and I take this as a signal that I should start running. I get outside, and Zoe's car is halfway down the street. 

"Fuck you, Zoe!" I yell though I'm not sure she even heard me.

"Oh, misunderstanding? I'll drive you, Connor." I hear Cynthia's voice behind me.

"No, you are not driving me. I'll walk." I grunt. 

"Are you-"

"I'm sure." I interrupt as I stomp down the driveway. I feel eyes resting on me, and find the source of them from across the street. He looks away as soon as I spot him. I audibly scoff, looking away. 

I walk to school on my own, following the boy (without him knowing) because I have no idea where I'm going, and get there shortly. I stop in front of the school gates, adjusting my hair, even if it doesn't matter what I look like because I'll probably still get ridiculed. I see, out of my peripheral vision, kids' eyes on me. If I could just tell everyone to look away, I would, but that would shatter my already nonexistent ego. The only people not speaking seemed to be a pair of kids. One of them looks like the kid I followed to school.

"You fell out of a tree? What are you, an acorn?" A brown haired boy chuckles, walking off. The dirty-blonde from before just stares in defeat. He then leans on the lockers. I open my newly acquired locker, blocking him from view. When I "settle in"-as the school's friendly and preppy principal would say. I notice his departure when I slam my locker shut, realizing the bell had just rung, much like he had. 

"Shit!" I whisper, grabbing my bag and running to my first class. 

"Connor Murphy, you're late. Now, I'll excuse it, since you're new, but please find a seat." 

It just so happens that the only seat available is in the front. Next to the same kid with brown hair. 

"Hey, Connor, like the hair. 'Tis very school shooter chic!" He chuckles. I glare at him, trying to ward him off. 

"Not gonna scare me. Believe me, I've dealt with way worse." He gloats. 

"And that's something to be proud of at this school, I'm guessing." I sarcastically reply, glancing out of the window at a huge tree.

"It is when you have a guy who talks to you and thinks you're friends and an actual friend who is probably crazy in some sort of way." 

"Good for you," I mutter. I then sit up, my eyes widening a bit. 

"Wait, did you mean that one blonde-ish kid?" I look at him. 

"Evan? Yeah. He never fucking takes a hint that we're family friends. Plus, I'm only friends with him for car insurance money." The brown haired kid rambles. 

I cut him off, "You're an asshole, you know that?" I say a bit loud. 

"Kids, this is an independent study. Connor is the only one who may ask questions." The teacher looks up from her book momentarily. 

Brown-Haired Kid nods, sticking his chest out confidently. I grunt, getting to the work I hadn't even started yet.

Evan. 

The kid that could help me out here. And, possibly, I could help him.

------

The day etches on until lunch finally decides to come along. I sit at an empty table beside Brown-Haired Kid, Evan, and another girl I've never seen before. The girl and Brown-Haired Kid talk to each other, seeming to ignore Evan. Evan just eats silently, I notice. He says nothing, making sure he doesn't do anything to disturb them. I probably seem like a stalker at this point, and I look away when the bell rings. 

Last period is when I formulate a plan. The plan to befriend Evan, without really being friends at all. I tell myself that I'll start tomorrow. The bell rings, and I walk out of the school towards my sister's car. 

"Oh, you decided to tag along this time, great." She grumbles. 

"Fuck off." I simply say, tying my hair up so that it doesn't get in my face when my sister crazily drives us home. 

"How was your day, Connor, meet any new friends?" She chuckles. 

"I did actually, now fuck off," I say. 

"The closest thing I saw to "friend" was you staring at that kid with like social anxiety or something. I doubt you'd talk to him. Although, imagine it! Two losers giving each other company!" She laughed and I flicked her off. She was literally the definition of a prick. 

When we got home, I was immediately hit with the same question.

"Did you meet a new friend, Connor?" Cynthia asked me.

"Yeah," I say dryly. 

"Really!? What's he like?" She grabs my hand, dragging me to the couch to sit down on. 

"We met in last period. I didn't have time to get to know him. His name's Evan." I avoid eye contact." I get up, walking upstairs and shutting myself in my room. 

How the hell was I supposed to talk to a kid with social anxiety?

Heyo, guys! Alexa here! It's great to start yet another fic, even though I'm pretty sure everyone hates me for it. I'll see you guys later!
~Alexa ❤️