Tree Bros Oneshots For Forever!

Foreign Exchange

Evan walked into the room he was assigned to go to first and sat down in the back. Why had he ever agreed to leave France and come to America? He had just wanted a fresh start, but the kids here think he's crazy. He opened up his notebook and started writing.

Cher Evan Hansen,

Aujourd'hui va être une bonne journée, et voici pourquoi:

His writing was cut short by a boy tapping his shoulder. He was wearing all black, and had long dark hair.

"Hey, dude, that's my seat," the boy said, His eyes filled with anger.

"Em... je ne...je ne comprends pas
v-votre langue." Evan replied with his heavy French accent, running his fingers through is curly, blonde hair. Of course he was lying. He could perfectly understand what the boy was saying, Evan had learned English when he was 12. "Veux-tu un crayon?" Evan offered him a pencil, but Conner pushed it away.

"Yeah, kid, I take French, so don't try to play games with me," the boy told him. "Get up. Do you need me to translate?"

Evan shook his head vigorously. He didn't like this boy.

"Oh! So you do speak English!" The boy clapped his hands together and laughed. "So get the fuck up out of my seat."

"Now, now, boys lets not pick a fight! It's not even the start of first period and the school shooter has his first victim!" Another boy popped his head behind the first boy's shoulder.

"Jared..." the first boy sounded angrier than before. "Go away."

"Oh! Who's this?" Jared looked at Evan. "Is this the French kid? He looks very French. Have you seen the Eiffel Tower?"

Evan sighed and shook his head. He picked up his books and moved, pushing past Jared and the other boy. The bell rang.

He hated America.

🔹🔶🔹

Evan sat in the bathroom stall, wiping tears from his eyes, trying not to make a big scene. Evan really hated America. He hated the school, he hated the kids, he hated everything. He sobbed quietly for a second, then immediately stopped when he heard the stall door close next to him.

"Who's there?" said the voice from the next stall. Should Evan answer that?

Another tear trickled down Evan's face. He could feel his throat closing, his heart racing a mile a minute. No, he thought. This can't be happening. Not now. He can't have a panic attack now.

His breath hitched and he couldn't hold it in anymore. All the tears came out. He could barely breathe. Evan didn't even care who was in the stall next to him.

"Hey! Are you okay?" said the stall next to him, but Evan couldn't decipher the words. His brain was jumbled. A head popped up over the stall wall. The boy from that morning. He looked surprised, but stayed there. "Hey, kid. Can you hear me?"

Evan didn't know what he said. His heart raced, his face wet with tears. He couldn't find the air.

"Je...Je ne...." That was all Evan could get out before he sobbed more.

The boy ducked his head down and Evan heard the shuffling of some papers. "Ok, um... Peux-tu m'entendre?" the boy spoke French. Evan nodded his head. "Bien! Ok...um...breathing...um..." the boy went through his notes, looking for the right word. But Evan knew what he meant. His hand was just able to reach and unlock the stall door.

The boy rushed in and placed Evan's hand over his heart. "Copier ma respiration. Dedans," The boy took a a deep breathe, and Evan followed. "...et dehors," Evan let it out.

They kept doing that for a few minutes, and soon Evan's breathing was back to normal.

"Em...merci! Or...um...thank you," Evan's accent was very heavy, but the boy understood.

"No problem," the boy said. "I'm Connor." He stuck out his hand.

Evan wiped his sweaty hand on his pants before he shook it. "Evan."

"You know, I've heard a rumor that French people are beautiful, and I think I just confirmed it," Connor smirked and Evan blushed deeply.

America was starting to grow on him.

A/N
Why did I choose Evan to be French? I don't know, I guess he looks French.
If you don't understand some of the French, you can ask me or look it up. The internet is very helpful.

There's your gif *finger guns*

Okay.