froyo / dear evan hansen

twenty one

connor watches zoe spread marmalade on her toast before asking, "have you got dance today?"

she puts the knife down. "yeah. why?"

he looks down to the table. "i was just wondering if i– could come with you?"

zoe blinks, but smiles. "do you remember when we did ballet together? when i was, like, five?"

"and we did that show to our parents and you cried?"

"hey! you cried too!"

"only because you were crying!"

zoe giggles, but stops when she realises this is the first time for so long they've actually, properly laughed together.

"you do jazz right?"

"and a bit of tap, sometimes."

"that's cool." he nods, and zoe knows he's not lying. "have you done any, uh, grades?"

she winces, appreciating he's trying to make conversation but–

"uh, yeah. i did my grade three jazz when you were– away."

"oh." connor chews on the inside of his cheek. "sorry i missed it."

"it's alright." zoe exhales heavily, giving him an overly fake smile. "there's always my grade four."

they eat the rest of their breakfast in silence, the happy moment they had shared gone.

***

"gah," connor snorts as they enter the studio, "this is giving me madam deneuve flashbacks."

zoe laughs at the mention of their old ballet teacher. all the older girls used to say she was a witch.

"so what do you do here?" he asks, a little out of place.

"well, today's, like, a free session, where we can do anything we want. no working on grades or performances or whatever." her tone's slightly hostile: she missed the last show because connor had been missing for a day. they still don't know where he went.

"are you– working– on anything?"

zoe laughs, rubbing her arm. "well, yeah, i guess, but it's probably a bit too hard for you to learn."

"hey!" her brother protests.

"con, you literally trip over thin air."

he rolls his eyes jokingly, and watches zoe warm up. she started dance age ten, and he has to admit, he never really realises she does dance. he's been to a few shows, but left three of them because the music was too loud. same goes to jazz band. but watching her, she seems entirely different. she isn't scowling; arms aren't folded; she's not holding her tongue. connor wishes he has something to escape to. she has dance, surfing, jazz band –what does he have? not leaving his room until he feels better? a froyo bar zoe hates anyway?

zoe takes his hand and pulls him in front of the mirrors, grinning breathlessly. it's been years since he's seen her smile like this.

"remember when i did legally blonde?"

"yeah?"

"i'm gonna teach you the bend and snap."

"you're kidding."

"i never kid about legally blonde, connor isaac murphy."

"i thought you– liked jazz?"

"i appreciate that bee movie reference, and i do, but you'd die in three minutes."

"geez. thanks."

zoe slaps his arm, giggling.

maybe they're both getting better.