Dear Evan Hansen,
Today is going to be a stressful day, because today I am moving out. I’m going to be living with Jared, and Alana, and…Zoe. Oh, and Connor Murphy. I haven’t really talked to any of them since my senior year,
what if they hate me and they kick me out of the apartment I hope we can still be friends. Mom is working, so I’m going to have to move all my stuff by myself, but she promised we would spend Tuesday watching movies. That gives me something to look forward to and maybe I won’t panic when I see Zoe and maybe they won’t all see what a loser I am even though Jared already knows and probably told them all. Until tomorrow, bye I guess.
Evan closes his laptop carefully, taking a breath to calm himself. Over the years his anxiety has gotten a little better, but something like moving…it’s enough to make it come back at full force. Not to mention he is moving in with Jared, Alana, Connor, and Zoe. Jared he at least talks to occasionally, but all the others he hasn’t seen in years. The “insanely cool” Jared Kleinman claims it was only because they needed a fifth person to help pay rent, and they would all prefer someone they all know to some extent. Speaking of which—Evan is torn from his thoughts by a heavy hammering on the door to his home (well, childhood home now he supposes), and the demands from outside for a certain acorn to let Jared inside. When he finally stands to let his family friend inside, he is immediately dragged back inside.
“God Hansen, have you even started packing your shit yet?”
“Yes I—yes I have…” Evan stutters quietly, gesturing to the boxes piled up in his corner. “All that’s left is my bed.”
“Good,” Jared hums, “I’ll help you carry your shit downstairs, but you owe me.” The blond groans quietly.
“I expect nothing less.” With that he grabs a box labeled books, disappearing downstairs. After a moment Evan follows suit, the action providing a brief distraction from the reason for why they’re moving the boxes in the first place.
The apartment is far nicer than Evan expected; it’s a five bedroom, three bathroom setup with a large kitchen and living room. Overall, it’s larger than the house he lived in before with a price that doesn’t make sense for the niceness. Setting his last box down, Evan surveys the room before moving to explore the mostly empty apartment. Apart from Jared, the others haven’t arrived yet. That is changed when the front door closes loudly as one Connor Murphy shuts it with his heel, his hands occupied with carrying two large boxes. Instead of walking towards the hall connecting the bedrooms like Evan expects, he turns right and gently places the boxes on the kitchen floor. Evan jumps as Connor notices him, briefly fixing the blond with a tired look.
“Evan, long time no see.” Evan’s voice gets stuck in his throat when he tries to respond, so he nods in a way he thinks dumb, fidgeting with the hem of his blue polo. “If you’re not doing anything else,” Connor starts, “Do you think you could help me bring in my stuff?” He says this as he walks out the door again, holding it open for a moment longer so that Evan can follow after.
When they reach the apartment parking lot Connor shifts his path towards a black army Jeep with several boxes piled into the back. “Here,” Connor says, handing Evan a box labeled clothes in black sharpie. “My room’s the second one on the left.” Evan nods stiffly, and Connor grabs two more boxes to carry himself. They continue like that for a few more trips, and when they finish Evan watches Connor curiously, the latter slicing the tape holding the boxes shut with a green pocket knife. Evan is stunned when Connor carefully lifts out several sets of cast iron pots and pans with ease. Connor notices his shocked expression, and misreading it he glares at Evan.
“I like cooking, you got a problem with that?” Evan winces at the low growl, rushing to shake his head.
“No I—no I think that’s…I think that’s fine, I just—just thought it was ama…amaz…I thought it was really cool…cool that you could carry two boxes with that—with all that in them…sorry…” Evan trails off as Connor’s expression softens.
“Oh…” Connor busies himself with putting his things away, and the silence drags on. Connor sets the last mug down carefully in the cabinet with teas and stuff, before turning to look at the silent blond. “Hey…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve lashed out at you.”
“It’s fine…” Evan murmurs, staring at the floor.
“No it’s not, you don’t deserve that.” Connor tugs at his hair, musing over something. “Tell you what, I’ll cook something for you after we go shopping, make it up to you.” Evan smiles slightly.
Zoe and Alana arrived sometime while Evan was unpacking his clothes, carrying several bags of groceries under their arms. Connor grins at the sight of the plastic bags, and immediately starts sifting through the potential ingredients for dinner.
“Hi…Hi there…” Evan winces at how stupid he probably just sounded, and instead of continuing a possibility terrible exchange he escapes to sitting at the breakfast bar. He watches Connor cook for a few moments, before his attention is stolen by Jared zooming into the still empty living room. He then crashes into the wall, slips to the floor, and pretends to die. The wheels of his heelys continue to spin.
“Don’t hurt the walls Kleinman,” Connor calls, using a spoon to mix the sauce currently simmering within one of the newly unpacked pots.
“Me? Hurt the walls?” Jared returns from the dead dramatically, gasping. “I am offended you would even suggest such a thing! As you can see the wall nearly killed me.” Connor mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “If only we were that lucky,” and Jared pouts. “You just don’t know how to appreciate how insanely cool I am.”
“Kleinman, you are definitely not insanely cool.” With the last word, Connor scoops generous amounts of cream sauce onto spaghetti, the dinner divided between four plates. Zoe and Alana collect their plates calmly, and Connor slides a plate over to Evan. While the others dig in, Jared glances around for a fifth plate.
“What about me?” He whines, and Connor rolls his eyes.
“I only made food for the others because I had to. Zoe and Alana brought me ingredients, and I was rude to Evan,” Connor states blandly.
“You were rude to me though!”
“Yeah, but you deserve it.” Evan glances at Connor, pleading with his eyes, and Connor huffs. “Fine, I’ll serve something for you—but only because Evan is apparently kind enough to have mercy on you.” With that he stalks back into the kitchen, scooping the remainder of the spaghetti and cream sauce onto a plate and shoving it into Jared’s hands. Evan smiles, and stares back at his plate.
Dear Evan Hansen, he thinks, today was a good day, and here’s why…