froyo / dear evan hansen

fourteen

cynthia's gentle touch forces zoe back home. connor is picking at his falafel burger, eyes glistening.

"are you alright?" cynthia's words echo alana's and zoe starts to tremble.

she never told anyone about that night. the two of them stayed on the beach until three a.m, talking about anything to get their minds off of the previous event. but they never mentioned their names. maybe everything was too much of a rush for that. it's starting to blur in her memory, just over a year later.

she stares at connor, a flying spark of resentment causing an inferno that makes her body tingle with warmth. what she feels towards her brother, she'll never know. but she remembers loathing like the back of her hand. she remembers wishing he would try suicide again. and she isn't sure if she regrets that.

was it connor who made that night happen, or herself? why was she that stupid to do it?

because everything hurt.

and everything still hurts.

and connor made that night happen.

and then she is screaming, tears running down her face in unstoppable floods, her voice cracking the walls.

cynthia tries to quieten her, but zoe can't hear anything except the crashing of waves on the beach. her mind is elsewhere, but her words are flooding the dining room unapologetically.

she will not be quietened. for too long, she has been silent, and you cannot contain an ocean. water will find its way into everything.

six years of agony pour into the words that cascade from her mouth and collect in puddles by connor's feet. he is shaking and crying too, and zoe isn't sure if he is going to respond or not. she's gotten worse at reading him as he's supposedly been getting better.

the storm collapses as zoe sobs, exhausted. wind whips her hair and blurs the sounds around her.

but she is not at the beach, her home; her hell.

she is in the dining room.

and as the rain grinds to a halt, she inhales deeply, the salty breeze gone. she looks at connor, and connor looks at her.

he is on the brink of collapse; a cliff face worn away by centuries of a relentless, bitter sea.