Connor's pov
I'm in my room, playing my guitar. Its electric, but its not in the best shape. Mom offered to buy me new one for Christmas, but I refused. The beaten up guitar means too much to me. I just think its poor condition gives it character. I start strumming the first few chords to mr.brightside as I sit in my windowsill. I look across the street at that house again. This time Evan isn't in his room. I look at the house. Its not as nice as all the others. Dont get me wrong, it isn't a dump either.
Its just got a lot of wear and tear. Its a two story house with cracked paneling and slight shingle damage. It's not a rich neighbourhood. its more of a middle class one that each house has sorta taken on its own way of showing how the family there lives.
My parents have a lot of money. They worked there whole lives to give us what we have. I know that, once we get settled in, everyone else will see that. I can tell, simply by the condition of evans house, he probably only has one parent. Most likely a mom, seeing as there is a little bed of purple, pink, and white flowers by their porch.
"Connor?" Mom shouts up the stairs.
"Yeah?" I yell back
"I'm going to the store, wanna come?"
"Not really" I decline, putting down my guitar and laying on my bed.
I hear mom walk up the stairs and open my door.
"Well, would you like anything from the store?" She asks.
"Yeah. Can you get a fern sapling?" I ask. She raises an eyebrow.
"Connor, I get it that you 'smoke trees' but I dont think thats what it means. Nor do I condone any smoking whatsoever." Mom starts a lecture
"It isn't for me, mom. Its for the kid across the street. He was looking at a plant book at school today. I thought I could try and make friends here." I sigh.
"Oh! Of course honey!" She grins, kissing my forehead, before leaving the room. I sigh. Mom thinks friends will help my depression. She just doesn't get it... Cynthia Murphy never had to worry about depression. I dont hold that against her. I just wish she'd try and understand me better.
Friends dont equal happiness. But maybe some company is a good start.
I look at my nightstand at my poem book. I write stuff in there when im feeling down. Its all shit. I have one that I'm working on for when I get the balls to actually kill myself. I open my book and read over it.
Guys like you and me
We're just the losers
Who keep trying to Be seen
Right?
I mean, no one seems to care
Or stops to notice that we're there
So we get lost
In the inbetween
I stop reading and close it. I could recite the rest from memory. I sigh and close my eyes, drifting to sleep.
When I wake up I groan and move the mess of hair from my face. I sit up and tie my hair back in a bun. I glance at my desk and see a tiny tree sitting in a clay pot. I smile and get out of the bed, before walking over and picking it up. I pull on my black converse and tuck the shoe strings into my shoe, before racing downstairs with the plant in hand.
"Thanks mom!" I call to her as I run out the door. I grin as I slow down my pace to cross the street. I place the little tree on the doorstep and knock.
I hurry back home and race back to my room, just in time to see Evan open the door, and questioningly looking down at the tree. He picks it up and looks around for whomever left it. He finally looks up at my window and our gazes meet. I offer a smile, and he gives one back.
God...
This kid didn't realize how lucky he is I'm trying to let him into my life. I never do this for people. No one gets the chance to see this side of me.
Except Evan.
I don't even know what draws me to him, and makes me wants to befriend
Him. But I know that I want him in my life.
For what ever time I have left of it anyway.
I hear someone tap at my door, and zoe walks in.
"Connor?" Zoe pokes her head into my room.
"Hmm?" I glance at her.
"Why were you running through the house like an idiot? " She asks. I roll my eyes.
"Can't you just associate it with me being a drugee like you always do?" I sneer.
"Well duh. But what reason? " She huffs, ignoring my remark.
"I was doing stuff for the neighbour" I tell her.
"Evan? I swear to hod Connor, if you bully that b-" I cut her off.
"Fuck. Zoe, is it so hard to think that I can be a friend to someone? That I can actually show positive feelings?" I ask.
"Yeah. It is." She says, slamming my door.
I sigh and go to my desk. I open the third drawer on the right and dig under all the useless college pamphlets. I find my weed and sit it on the desk, rolling a joint. I put it in between my chapped lips, and inhale deeply.
Then I hear my door open.
YOU ARE READING
our place (connor x evan)
Fanfictionthere's a new student in evan hansen's grade. he doesn't talk to anyone, or do anything. the only reason evan even pays attention to this new kid is his sister. she's absolutely breathtaking. but is she really the apple of Evans eye?
