When Evan woke up, it was four a.m. and his nerves were on fire. His night lamp lit the room like a flash of lightning. His comforter slid down his face like rough sandpaper. When he went into the bathroom, the door clicked behind him like a boom of a canon. Everything was just too much: the water from the shower, the creaking floorboards from his mom walking around downstairs, his reflection in the fogged mirror. He had resolved to go to school no matter what, but now that it was less than three hours away, he felt like he forgot how to function as a person. Did he normally part his hair on the left or right? Did he wear socks with his sneakers? Did he forget to put on underwear? He ran and back forth between his bedroom and bathroom countless times, continuously changing everything, convinced he had gotten something wrong, never quite able to catch his breath.

By six am, his mom had come to his room with a cup of water and made Evan take a Xanax. Normally he just took a low dose of Zoloft every morning, and he hated being supervised because it was as if is Mom didn't trust him to take care of himself. Today, he swallowed both pills in one gulp with no protestations. She sat down on his bed beside him and tried to rub his back, but since Evan's skin was still cranked to eleven, he shuddered away from her touch, gasping a bit where her fingers grazed his shirt.

"Honey, are you sure you're up for school today?"

"Yes, yes. I'm totally fine and ready for school, yes."

"Well… can I at least drive you?"

He could tell she asked expecting him to say no. It was part of Evan's personal practices to not inconvenience his mom in any way. Plus, it wasn't exactly cool to be dropped off by your mom when everyone else his age drove, carpooled, or walked. But Evan didn't think he could walk today—the idea of cars zooming past him was enough to make his skin rise in goosebumps.

"S-sure."

"Really? That's great, sweetie!" She fluttered her hand around a bit, and Evan could feel her fingers' wish to brush his cheek or hair, but to Evan's relief, she resisted. "Hey, why don't I bag next week's shift on Tuesday? We haven't had a Taco Tuesday night in forever."

"Oh, you don't have to—"

"I want to." And then very deliberately, as if she had read instructions in some sort of How To Deal with Your Child Who Has Self-Esteem Issues help book. "I like talking to you and being with you, Evan."

Evan hated himself a little for nodding his head, agreeing with her plan. She smiled so wide and clapped her hands so she could do something with them and it was honestly pretty heartwarming. He liked making him mom happy. It made him happy to make her happy, until it made him feel incredibly selfish asking her for her time. If Heidi Hansen had a neural typical child, she wouldn't have to do things like find therapists, skip work, and make sure he took his medication. What if she would resent calling out of her shift later? What if something happened, like the car engine died and they didn't have enough money to fix it? What if the nursing home director fired her for skipping without just cause? But all the what-ifs didn't matter because today, Evan wasn't strong enough to not rely on her. If this school day went poorly (and how could it not go poorly) and if he rejected (and by that he meant when he rejected) Zoe and Connor's offer to join High School Rejects, it might help to have something to look forward to. Because the days where Heidi and Evan Hansen had nothing to do but spend time with each other were actually pretty great (which made him a giant nerd and a loser, but that was neither here nor there).

So he agreed to the plan for Taco Tuesday. He ate a granola bar as he waited for the Xanax to weigh him down like a leaden blanket. He looked in the passenger mirror, appraising his appearance one last time as his mother drove him to school. And when she parked, he only took one deep breath (any more would concern his mom) and stepped out of the car.

At first, things seemed normal, which might have something to do with Evan drawing a hoodie over his head, but no one gave him a second look as he walked through the school. He kept his head down and his hands clenched tightly at his backpack straps, grateful for the anonymity. If he could just get his books out of his locker and rush to his first class and kept rushing to every classroom for the rest of the day, he wouldn't have to talk to anybody. Sure, they had said nice things about him online, but what if they forgot that it was that Evan Hansen they were complimenting. You know, the quiet kid with the cast who couldn't talk without sounding like a failure of an auctioneer, and they suddenly got angry at Evan for tricking them into ever thinking he was something better than he actually was? Rushing to classes and hiding his facial features was a good plan for now. Perfect for easing back into the school dynamic without causing any major waves.

But Evan did not anticipate Jared and Alana waiting by his locker.

"There he is!" Jared said, clapping his hands once and gesturing grandly to Evan. "Already dressing like a Hollywood star trying to avoid the paparrazi. What a fucking snob." He gave Evan a "friendly" punch on the shoulder.

Alana stepped up to him and he cringed as she entered his personal space. "Evan, you still haven't sent me the information I asked. As our band's social media coordinator, it is essential that I have all the relevant data when constructing future posts."

"I, uh… did Connor or Zoe talk to you guys?" Evan said, trying to dodge them to get to his locker. Already their words were causing a few kids around them to stare. He hunched into the fabric cave of his hoodie.

"If you are talking about that horrendous post by that Instagram user, don't worry. Zoe already explained to us that you and Connor are friends and that the rumor wasn't true. Congratulations on joining the band by the way, though I do wish Connor would have informed me first. While I appreciate his tenacity in regards to constructing your social media post, I would have preferred to do it myself to maintain structure and tone. I have very detailed plans for our marketing strategy and I don't want any posts to derail it."

"Speaking of Connor's tenacity and your friendship that I'm to understand you've had since this summer…," Jared said, giving him smile that said he clearly didn't believe it. Evan felt his stomach muscles tighten, as though preparing for a physical blow. "How's his penis?" Jared's grin turned salacious. "I'm assuming you've gotten to at least third base with the way Connor's bedroom eyes were leering all over you during that video."

Evan sighed in exasperation. Everything was always about sex with Jared. "We're just friends." He turned to Alana, the tension in his stomach not leaving. "What's this about an Instagram post?"

"You haven't seen it yet?" Alana pulled her phone out and flipped through a few screens before showing it to him. "It was from that same person who posted all those pictures after Connor's drug overdose, NiceTry2001. This post clearly wasn't as effective as the previous ones, given that there is no picture, but it's been reposted more than I would like. We have an image to maintain and baseless rumors like this have the potential to destroy us before we even get started."

Evan reached out to hold Alana's phone steady as she ranted about the sad state of social media when people posted things without fact checking them first, which he tuned it out to focus on the screen. It was a black background with the following words in red font: Connor Murphy blackmailed Evan Hansen into becoming High School Reject's singer. Evan begin to tremble. It wasn't true. But it was a closer truth than the one that everyone else assumed: that Evan agreed to sing because him and Connor were friends.

"I'm surprised your friend didn't talk to you about it." Evan hurriedly gave Alana's phone back to avoid eye contact with Jared. Out of everyone, only he had the potential to really know that Evan was lying. Jared continued, " That shit was posted yesterday. That's like a year in cyberspace time."

"It doesn't matter," Alana said importantly. "What matters is that we focus on the band's future and put this matter behind us. Evan, we need to connect at lunch so we can go over your bio. If you have an appropriate headshot on your phone, text it to me. Otherwise, we'll go over photo options later. Did you have time to think about what high school trope you mostly closely identify with? It's for a marketing campaign I have in mind. I myself have chosen 'Class Brain' although 'Goody Two-Shoes' might go better with the self-depreciating tone of our band's name."

"Since I can swear in Dothraki, Klingon, and Elvish, I'm definitely a geek," Jared said confidently. "But geek is the new sexy, so that's cool." He slapped Evan's shoulder. With the Xanax, it wasn't like an electric shock, but it still prickled his skin more than normal. "This guy is clearly a loser."

"Really?" Alana tilted her head. "Are you sure he's not more of a nerd?"

"Eh, only about trees. And 'treeophile' isn't exactly a title worthy of your Breakfast Club knockoff."

"Well, only if Evan's sure?"

The two of them stared at him intensely. Evan backed up a step. "I mean… Jared's not exactly wrong."

Alana clapped her hands. "Perfect. I'll prepare the posts. But by order of our band's co-president, Zoe, I am not allowed to post anything new on our social media outlets until this weekend."

"Pretty sure bands don't have presidents," Jared said.

"Personally, I'm more suited to leadership positions, but I can humbly follow orders when necessary. Though I do wish Zoe had at least provided a reason for her ruling"

"Pretty sure band leaders don't make rulings."

"But just think how much more efficient our practices could be if we implemented Robert's Rules of Order!"

"Yeeeaaah. Good luck with that," Jared hiked up his backpack. "I'm going to class. Evan, you're a dick for not telling me you could sing." Then Jared threw up a sideways peace sign and walked off.

"Remember, we're meeting at lunch," Alana said, before scrambling off to remind Jared of the same thing.

And just as suddenly they were there, they were gone, leaving Evan's head whirling in their wake. He got his books from his locker, but he just stared at the gray vented metal after he closed it. That was… not as bad as Evan expected. And with Zoe's vague request not to have any new social media postings, this thing about him being a singer wouldn't blow up anymore until he made his official decision to quit on Friday. The instagram post was alarming, but not panic attack inducing. Maybe today wouldn't be full of over-the-top surprises. Maybe it would just be little conversations like this with members of High School Rejects, and that would be it. Maybe he could handle this after all.

"Excuse me?" Evan turned and found an excitable boy with giant headphones draped around his neck. "Evan Hansen, right?"

"Uh… yes?"

The boy grinned so big that both rows of teeth were on display. "Michael. Huge fan. Just wanted to tell you I can't wait to see your first performance. You completely rock!"

Michael held out his fist. Evan knew he was suppose to bump it, but there were so many factors to consider. For one, Evan's hands had gone very sweaty ever since Jared started talking about Connor's... dangling participle. Even if Evan clenched his hand into a fist, what if the sweat from his palm was so intense it splattered onto Michael's skin upon impact? Plus, Michael was holding up his left fist, did that mean Evan was supposed to bump with his left fist too? But his left was his broken arm, so could he accidentally hurt himself? And what if there was some sort of ritual afterwards? Evan had seen some people on TV do explosive noises after the bump and some even did elaborate hand claps like a secrete code. Was there a special routine commonly used by his fellow students that Evan was completely ignorant on and oh no, how long had he left Michael just standing there with his fist outstretched, waiting for Evan to make a move?! He needed to stop thinking and act like a normal fucking human being. He had to do something. He had to do something now.

Evan reached out. Slapped Michael's fist like it was a high five.

And promptly ran away.

The morning was awkward, awkward, awkward. After the fist slap with Michael in the hallway came his first class with Trisha, who sat two rows in front of him. She gave him a smile and a singular head nod. Evan gave her a corpse grin (which was when his lips and mouth were so dry that they caved over his teeth, making him look like an 80-year-old with poor dental hygiene) and a nod that went up and never went down due to a sudden muscle spasm. After Trisha was history class with Marco who sat next to him and tried to whisper to Evan all class. But Evan was too nervous about making the teacher upset, so all he did in response was give one word answers or no answer at all, leaving him certain that Marco now thought Evan was a pretentious asshole. The next class nobody made eye contact with him or approached him, but Evan could swear that a group near the front were whispering about Connor and "what sort of dirt he had on Evan" to make him sing. The last class before lunch was the worst because it was the teacher, Mrs. Mason, who called on him in the middle of class to read a passage, and then joked that he should sing it, making all the kids agree and beg him to do just that. He stumbled and stuttered through the passage instead and he could just feel everyone's disappointment.

The cafeteria, which Evan had anticipated to be the worst, ended up being the easiest. Apparently, people only wanted to focus on Evan when it meant taking time away from class. But when it came to intruding on their personal time with friends, they were more than content to leave him alone. He found Alana's eagerly waving hand near the back by the large atrium windows. Evan liked these windows, even if the view only showed off the parking lot, because it meant being in the sun (which was good for his depression). But since Jared complained that it made him sweaty, Evan had only sat by lunchroom windows a few times before today.

"Thank you for joining me," Alana said, gesturing to an empty spot across from her. Evan sat down, staring at the spread of notebooks and sheet music sitting alongside her lunch tray and iPad. "We have a lot to cover in 30 minutes. Jared, Zoe, and Connor should be joining us shortly."

"... Connor is coming?"

"Well, probably not. He hasn't come to any other lunch meeting I've set up. But I believe in having an optimistic attitude."

Jared came shortly after, taking great relish in telling a group of people he was with that he had to leave them for "official band business." If he saw a few of those people roll their eyes behind Jared's back, Evan was too kind to say so.

They had to wait for Zoe a few extra minutes, due to the junior class getting let out to lunch later than the senior class. She didn't bother with a lunch tray. She just stomped over to the table, took the empty spot by Evan, and rested her head with a propped elbow.

"Connor isn't coming today," Zoe said. She knocked Evan's leg softly with her knee. It might have just been her settling in, but when he looked over and saw her give a quick wink, he knew that she had somehow arranged it so Evan wouldn't have to talk to him.

Alana sighed. "I still need him to chose a high school trope he identifies with."

"School shooter?" Jared suggested. Then, as if remembering Zoe and Connor were siblings, he gave a nervous laugh. "Just kidding. It's the hair."

"Psychopath?" Zoe said, clearly not caring.

"Neither one is an appropriate trope that social media fans would want to identify with." Alana turned to him. "What do you think, Evan? You two are friends."

"Oh, uh, I don't know if I would feel comfortable—"

"Come on, Evan. Tell us what your friend would be." Jared pressed a sharp elbow into his side.

"I don't know..." He looked at Alana, trying to remember how she had phrased it earlier. "Maybe, if we're, uh, going for that sympathetic self-depreciating tone... maybe... burnout?"

Alana tapped a pen to her chin. "It's not bad. But I still think we—"

"Oh my god." Zoe suddenly stood up and walked over to the windows. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

Jared and Evan looked at each other before standing up and walking over to Zoe. They peered out to the parking lot as Alana protested that lunch time was business time. It didn't take long to find what Zoe had seen. Near the school was a green Honda Civic. And sitting on the car's hood was a person Evan had never seen in person, but plenty of times in dozens of Zombie Unicorn videos: Neil Armstrung.

Zoe knocked at the window, trying to get Neil's attention. "Does he want to get murdered by my brother?!"

"Dude looks pretty chill to me," Jared commented.

And he did. Neil was leaning against the hood looking like he didn't have a care in the world. His blond hair, normally done in some sort of pigtails, had been piled on the top of his head in a bun. He also wasn't wearing a kilt, but a pair of jeans and a plain white tee-shirt. Even his beard, which had previously been bushy and wild, had been trimmed to a more GQ length. Overall, he was still the same Neil he recognized, only now he was a cleaned-up version that didn't throw a person off balance with his loud and in-your-face style.

Zoe's knocking got louder and more frantic and she began whispering curses under her breath. It didn't take long to discover why. Connor was purposefully walking toward the car with murder in his posture.

"Sorry, Alana, but I got to go make sure my brother doesn't end up in juvie." And then, like the rockstar she was born to be, Zoe went to the glass atrium's emergency exit, setting off the alarms as she ran outside. The alarms immediately stopped when the door closed, but Evan still felt like a train had roared by without warning. He held a hand to his chest, trying to catch his breath, wondering if he should look away or not.

Then Jared grabbed his wrist and gave a wicked grin. "C'mon, Evan. Let's go make sure your friend is okay."

And then he dragged Evan to the door, opened it (heedless to the teacher shouting a protest behind them), and pulled Evan outside toward the last person Evan wanted to see.

It felt as though Evan were entering a battlefield as Jared pushed Evan toward Connor's car (although thinking such a simile made Evan wonder how offended an actual veteran would be if they realized Evan thought life-and-death situations were comparable to awkward confrontations in a high school parking lot.) Evan kept darting his head over his shoulder, certain that they would be ambushed at any moment from the teacher in the cafeteria. But he also kept darting his head forward, certain that he was about to witness a crime.

Connor had stormed directly up to Neil and loomed over his former band mate. But while Connor was tall, Neil was broad. And when Neil stood up straight at a clear five inches shorter than Connor, it didn't diminish his presence. If anything, it amplified it. Because here was Neil—calm, collected, and entirely put together as Connor threatened him (or so Evan assumed since they hadn't walked close enough for him to hear the conversation). Connor was a different story. He was thin, his clothes were wrinkled, and his hair limply hung around his pale face that was blotching into pink spots the more he spoke.

As soon as Zoe reached the scene, she took Connor's arm and pulled. He flung her hand away only to point in Neil's face as though he were holding a gun instead of a finger.

Eventually they got close enough (because although Jared had no concept of social privacy, he did have enough intelligence to not rush into a possibly violent altercation) that he could make Zoe's words. "Connor, calm down, we're in—"

"I told him to stay the fuck away from us!" Connor shouted, still pushing her hand away.

"Sorry, Zoe, I didn't realize he would act like this," Neil said. His arms were still crossed casually as he threw an apologetic glance her way.

"He tried to kill your car with a guitar last time he saw you," Zoe said with a raised eyebrow. "What did you think would happen?"

"Funnily enough, that's why I'm here." Neil dug into his back pocket and produced a folded piece of paper. "This is a bill for damages done to my car."

"Fuck you!" Connor snarled.

"Why couldn't you have just mailed it to us?" Zoe exasperated.

"Because he wanted me to freak out!" Connor tried to step past Zoe, who resolutely stood her ground. "This asshole wanted to prove to everyone that I'm nothing more than a psycho."

Zoe waved over Jared and Evan as soon as she saw them. "Can you guys help me out?"

Connor looked over and froze once he saw Evan standing there. Evan similarly couldn't move once Connor's eyes fixed with his. He had known Connor looked bad from a distance, but up close was worse. Dark bags patched the delicate white skin below his eyes, which were bloodshot and puffy. His entire body shook, and Evan couldn't tell if it was from the rage of seeing Neil or evidence of poor self-care. But the thing that struck Evan in the chest was his expression. It wasn't just his eyes, that were full of guilt, rage, and sadness, but his posture—as though Evan would strike him at any instant.

And for a moment, Evan's heart bled for him.

"So you're Evan Hansen," Neil said, walking toward him, taking advantage of Connor's moment of being frozen. He held out a hand. "Neil Armstrung."

Evan looked over Neil's shoulder to Connor, who still wasn't moving. He just stared at Evan, as though waiting for him to fire the final bullet that would end him. And Evan somehow knew that if he were overly friendly with Neil, it would break something in Connor. He didn't know how he knew that, but his therapist did say he had an over-developed sense of empathy. He looked back to Neil and held his hands behind his back. "S-Sorry. My hands are sticky from lunch."

It was possibly the lamest excuse ever and Evan hated himself for being here. Not only was he snubbing one of his music idols, he was doing it for Connor's sake. Connor, who was making it incredibly hard for Evan to remember his anger. He shouldn't want to do anything for a person who broke his trust so horribly, even if he wanted to prove to Zoe and Jared that the two were friends. But when Connor's defensive posture slackened, when Connor gave a hesitant smile at his response to Neil, it felt good. And he hated that making Connor feel good had someone become a priority for him—especially when Connor didn't offer the same consideration for him.

"No problem," Neil said easily. "That's a killer voice you got."

"I, uh, thank—"

"What's going on out here?" The teacher Evan had feared would come had suddenly snuck-up behind them. It was Mrs. Jacobs, the same person who had hosted Zoe and Connor's auditions. Her face was stern and looked ready to dole out punishment until her eyes found Neil and they brightened. "Oh, Neil, I didn't realize you were already here."

"Hey, Mrs. J," Neil said, with a teasing salute. "Your offer to sit in on classes this afternoon still good?"

"You're not going to steal one of my jazz band students again, are you?"

He laughed. "While I don't doubt your ability as a teacher, I don't think I'll find another Zoe Murphy."

Zoe blushed and cleared her throat. "Sorry, Mrs. Jacobs. We, uh, saw him in the parking lot and decided to say hi?"

Well, Evan had officially found something Zoe wasn't good at. She was a terrible liar. She didn't meet Mrs. Jacobs' eyes and what should have been a statement ended in a question.

"It's actually my fault." Jared stepped up with a charming grin. "I fanboyed when I saw Neil in the parking lot and Zoe agreed to introduce me. Jared Kleinman, by the way." Jared held out his hand, which Neil shook with a bit of a confused air.

She sighed. "Next time, don't use the emergency exits, or I'll be writing you up."

"S-sorry," Evan stumbled.

"Yeah, we're super sorry." Jared said. "Just like I'm sure everyone who followed you out here is super sorry."

Evan turned further around and to his dismay, a good chunk of students that had been in the cafeteria had filtered outside. A handful even had their smartphones out and pointed in their direction. Obviously, everyone expected Connor and Neil to get into some sort of fight. Mrs. Jacobs sighed and walked back to the crowd. But her reprimands didn't deter anyone. If anything, the presence of a teacher confirmed their beliefs that something bad was about to happen, so they only got closer.

Evan felt like a spectacle and wanted to turn inside out just so he wouldn't have to be the center of their probing stares. But since that wasn't possible, he leaned into Jared's side, trying to signal that he wanted to leave. Of course that was a stupid idea. Jared wasn't exactly good with subtle, and he only gave Evan an annoyed look and stepped away from him. Between Jared and Neil, it was hard to tell who looked the most outwardly chill, as if they didn't mind half a dozen cellphones were pointed their way. At least Evan wasn't the only uncomfortable one. Zoe turned her back to the crowd and Connor shot them the darkest of glares.

"So, Evan," Neil spoke and Evan couldn't help but notice how his voice had suddenly gotten louder and more enunciated, as though he wanted to make sure everyone could hear him. "Is it true that Con Man blackmailed you into joining his band?"

Neil was still smiling congenially, as though he hadn't said something that caused the small crowd to hush into whispers. The crowd, who had stared equally at Neil, Connor, Zoe, Jared, and himself before, now fixed their eyes to Evan.

Before this moment, Evan thought all of Connor's anger toward Neil was strictly due to Neil and Natalie signing to a label without Zoe and Connor. But now Evan had to wonder if there was something deeper. Because Evan had very little confidence that Neil, who seemed masterful at instigating drama without appearing to mean it, could be a novice at such a manipulative technique.

Jared raised his eyebrows, as if he almost respected Neil's audacity. Zoe looked at Evan expectantly, no doubt waiting for him to deny the allegation. And Connor, well... Connor just sort of laughed and looked off in the distance.

"That's not true." It was the truth, but Evan's voice was so shaky that he knew that it would sound like he was lying.

Neil's casual expression disappeared and he stepped closer, looking concerned. "Hey. If he's threatened you in some way, you can tell me. He can't hurt you here."

"N-no, that's not it."

"Him and Connor are friends, Neil," Zoe said. But as she said it, she looked doubtful and started staring at Evan.

"Yeah. Friends. How did that happen again?" Jared asked, stepping closer to Neil, as though siding with him in an unspoken argument.

Evan just shook. Everything was falling apart. Everyone would find out he was a coward who couldn't handle singing without someone tricking him into to it. Zoe would realize that he had lied about everything and never speak to him again. He didn't know why Jared was helping Neil, except maybe he just wanted to shove it in Evan's face later that he knew he had been lying.

"I... I..."

"They were friends since this summer, right Evan?" Zoe almost sounded desperate now and Evan felt her panic keenly in his throat. He looked to Connor who was still looking off into the distance with that strange smile on his face.

"This is a safe space," Neil said and patted his bicep.

That did it. Because this was clearly not a safe space. With dozens of people listening to every word they were saying (and why wasn't Mrs. Jacobs doing anything to get them inside?!), this was far from being a safe space. Neil hadn't done anything to warrant his trust. But it sure looked good on camera if Neil approached Evan like he was a skittish deer and made him admit that Connor was some sort of villain. What if this was the same thing Alana was doing—some sort of marketing campaign to make him look good?

Evan stepped away. "I'm not lying. Connor has been my friend since... I don't know... end of May, early June?" It wasn't said with the confidence he had wanted, but at least Evan was getting more specific. "He was a regular visitor to Ellison State Park where I interned this summer and we just... I don't know, got close?"

For the first time, Jared looked hesitant and Evan felt good seeing it on his face. Neil didn't buy it.

"I know that place." Neil smiled sympathetically. "I also know that's where Connor likes to park. As in not get out of his car." He gave him a look that somehow conveyed sympathy and judgment simultaneously. "Are you saying you somehow encouraged Connor to leave this tin bucket?" He knocked on the Honda Civic's hood with his knuckles.

Connor didn't stop his staring into the distance , but he did say, "Get your fucking hands off my car, Armstrung."

Neil just looked at Evan, waiting to be proven right.

"Evan?" Zoe whispered.

His lies weren't enough. People knew enough of his and Connor's character to realize that such a meetup wouldn't have happened. The school loser and the school burnout were natural loners. Evan's nerves kept him from reaching out; Connor's anger kept others from reaching to him. And before his eyes, he saw Zoe put the pieces together the same time her hope broke apart. She turned to Connor, still staring at nothing. Betrayal poured from her skin and Evan knew if he didn't do something right now, everything would fall apart.

"He was there when I broke my arm!" Evan blurted out, practically yelling the words. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. The first day of school he had told Jared he had been alone in a forest after the fall. But he was committed. And if he talked fast enough, maybe Jared wouldn't have the opportunity to contradict to him.

"There's this big oak tree in Ellison State Park, and well, not to brag or anything, but I'm kind of a tree expert. And, well, I thought that it be cool to climb it. And I got almost to the top, and it was nice, like, I felt the sun shine on my face, and it was calm. That is, until I reached for a branch and it broke." Evan was rambling. He needed to focus. He needed to bring Connor into the narrative. "Anyway, this tree is really close to the parking lot and it was later in the day and the rangers weren't patrolling the area. But Connor was there, and he... he came to get me."

Evan gasped for air. His skin felt like it had been dosed in rubbing alchohol. It felt cool and slightly abrasive, but there was something that felt right about it. As though he had cleaned some part of him that was dirty. He looked to Connor who now stared at him with undreadable eyes.

"He took me to the hospital," Evan said, not breaking eye contact with Connor, willing him to not only support the lie, but to believe it. "He made sure I wasn't alone. And, we'll, that was that."

"Why didn't you just say that before?" Zoe asked, but Evan saw it was just a throwaway question. She believed him. And she was looking at Connor with those hopeful eyes again.

"It... it was a bad day for me." Evan said softly. "I don't really like to think of it." Which was the understatement of the year. He looked at Jared with pleading eyes. Pleading not only for him to not contradict him, but to at least partially understand why Evan would lie about such a thing in the first place.

"There you have it," Connor said abruptly. "You happy, now that you made Hansen talk about something that triggers his anxiety? Or should we keep talking until you look good in front of the cameras?"

Just like that day in the hallway, when Evan had laughed in relief prompting Connor to shove him, Evan laughed in relief again. Only this time when Connor walked over to him, he awkwardly patted him twice on the shoulders with both hands, making Evan laugh again.

"You're too pure for this world, aren't you, Connor?" Evan said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Connor smiled (even if it didn't reach his eyes). "You know me, Hansen. Pure as the fucking snow."

Then the two suddenly seemed to realize they were too close. That Evan was still angry at Connor. That Connor was still avoiding Evan. But they couldn't stop just being close to each other. They had a lie to sell now. So they stood there awkwardly next to each other, not sure what to do next.

Then Jared coughed, "Are you sure you two are just friends?"

Connor flipped him off the same time Evan went scarlet. Thankfully, Zoe just rolled her eyes and threw her arm around Evan's shoulders. She reached for the folded paper in Neil's hand with her free hand. "I trust we're done here?" She asked Neil.

"We're done." Neil said, still maintaining his composure (although Evan could swear his smile now held a bitter tinge). To Connor, he said, "I'm glad you made a friend." The word "finally" was unsaid, but everyone heard it regardless.

Then Neil walked off to the school building, no doubt to get to the music room. Mrs. Jacobs stepped away from the group of students gratefully and walked with him. A few kids from the crowd watched Evan, Connor, Zoe, and Jared for a bit longer, but most had lost interest and walked away.

"What a condescending dick," Jared said conversationally (once the last smartphone had stopped recording).

Zoe shrugged. "He's not so bad. These two just bring out the worst in each other."

"I thought you and Neil would have gotten along," Connor said bitingly.

"Hey, I'm loyal to our band first," Jared said, giving Evan a significant look. Some of the leftover tension Evan felt at his lie lessened. Jared clearly knew he wasn't telling the truth, but for whatever reason (for the good of the band?), Jared wouldn't out him. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to suck-up to local rock heroes when they show up at my school."

"Hey!" Alana ran up to them, clearly a little winded.

"Where did you come from?" Zoe said, a bit bewildered.

"The front entrance. I, unlike the rest of you, obey fire codes and respect that emergency exits are only to be used for emergencies." She took a few more breaths and then smiled brightly. "So what did I miss? As a valued member of this band, I think it's important that I stay apprised of the interpersonal relationships we share with out community musicians."

"Neil was trying to start a fight. Connor was playing into his hands. Evan shut them up by being his usual earnest, honest self."

Evan looked down, hoping the sting he felt from Zoe's words came across as embarrassment instead of guilt.

"Will I find anything on social media later that will derail my marketing campaign?"

"Nah. If anything, Evan just enhanced our band's image. Apparently, Connor saved Evan in a moment of crisis, which blossomed into a beautiful friendship," Jared said.

"Perfect," Alana said. "This will play perfectly into my planned image for Connor: a rebel with a heart of gold."

"No," Connor deadpanned.

"We need to revamp your public image," Alan insisted. "We need to counteract the things NiceTry2001 has posted. We can't exactly debate the truth when there is photographic evidence, but we can convince—"

"You do realize we're a band, right?" Connor said, suddenly stepping forward. "All this social media is bullshit. The music is what matters."

"Social media is important, too. It's what's going to allow us to—"

"Are you practicing your guitar as much as you're obsessing with this?"

"Lay off, Connor. She's good at this," Zoe protested.

"Can you say the same about her guitar playing?"

Alana bit her lip and Jared whistled low. "Harsh, dude."

Connor stared intently at Alana (and for the briefest moment, Evan admired Connor's ability not to shy away from confrontation). "We asked her to be in the band to play, not to be our manager."

"What's wrong with her being both?" Zoe argued.

"Nothing, as long as she keeps her fucking priorities straight. Music is the only thing the matters."

"That's not true," Evan said. And strangely, it was Connor's example of confrontation that prompted Evan to speak, even if it meant speaking out against him. He allowed himself to feel his anger and to let go of the sadness he felt for Connor upon first seeing him. He held Conner's eyes (although not as directly as Connor had done to Alana earlier), "There are other things that matter, too."

Connor stared at him for a long time, nodded, and then without a word, walked away. Zoe and Jared gave Evan looks of awe.

"If we're all going to have two jobs in this band, I vote Evan's second role is Connor Wrangler." Jared joked.

If I stay in the band, Evan thought.

Wait.

Did he really just think "if?"

Evan brought a shaking hand to his mouth. What happened to his definitive no? What happened to his dread from wondering how to break the news to social media and Zoe? He clenched his throat, realizing that dread had transformed into dealing with smartphones pointing at him and personal questions from people he didn't trust. It wasn't a yes to accepting his position into the band, which no doubt would have turned his dread into straight panic. But it wasn't a no either.

"He never listens to anybody like that," Zoe said, dropping her arm from Evan's shoulder. Her smile was a bit sad as she added, "Guess you two really are friends, huh?"

"I guess," Evan said, watching Connor's back as he walked away.

If he joined the band, this could be his life. He could meet everyday with Alana to discuss marketing strategies. Jared wouldn't be embarrassed to talk to him in public. Zoe would feel so comfortable with him that she would keep casually touching him, which was a level of trust he never thought he'd be granted. All it would cost was his vulnerability and the facade of Connor's friendship. It was a big price. Not only because of his anxiety issues, but because the idea of maintaining the lie exhausted him. And their friendship would likely remain a lie indefinitely, for Evan couldn't imagine a future where he would ever trust Connor again.

(Even if a large part of him desperately wanted Connor's friendship.)

It might have been the Xanax. It might have been surviving his first public confrontation with cameras. It might have been feeling like he had a group of friends for the first time in his life. But when Evan considered the high price for living this life, he thought (for the first time) that he might be able to afford it.