Ghosts In Corners

chapter one, evan

     You know the feeling you get when you're going to have a panic attack? When your chest is tight and you can't breathe so you're gasping for breath?
  That's how I feel right now, in the the backseat of Jared's friend's P.T. cruiser, while Jared and his friend talk about the Beatles.
   The only thing on my mind, other than my breathing, is the letter that got stolen the other day by Connor Murphy. He probably told everyone by now and Zoe probably thinks I'm a freak. She probably already thought I was a freak, because of my sweaty hands.
I can't breathe at this point.
"Hey, Evan...you okay?" Jared's friend's (Michael) friend (Jeremy) asks me. He's the only one who's sitting beside me. Obviously, since Michael is driving and Jared is up front. 

I quickly nod my head over and over while forcing out a, "Y-yes".
I run my hand over my cast, that spells CONNOR is thick, black letters, and try to steady my breathing. 

"He's overreacting about something," Jared replies, rolling his eyes. Jeremy furrows his eyebrows and Michael gives Jared a glance. Jared doesn't say anything, he just changes the radio station.
I quickly nod in agreement, trying to get the attention away from me.

Jeremy takes my hand and sets it on his check. "Focus on your breathing. Try to match it with mine."
I nod and set my hand on his, focusing on his breathing instead of mine.
Jared looks at me in the rearview mirror with a concerned look but he's probably just faking it.
By the time we reach school, I've calmed down.
Jeremy rubs my shoulder and gives a quick smile. "You good, buddy?" he asks, his concern reaching his eyes.

I nod.
God, he probably pities me now. The first time meeting, I have a near panic attack in the back of his probably boyfriend's car. What the hell is wrong with me?

Before anyone else can ask if I'm okay, I grab my bag and rush out of the car. I keep my head down, making sure I don't make eye contact with anyone, and walk quickly. But, as always, Jared catches up with me.

"So what are you gonna do about that freakso stealing your sex letter?" Jared asks, slinging his arm around my shoulders.

I lightly push him away and try to get him to shut up. "It w..wasn't like that, Jared! And he...he isn't a f-freak!" I yell-whisper, my face no doubt beet-red.

"Jeez, learn how to take a joke, Hansen," Jared scoffs, quickly walking off.
I slowly follow. Slow enough so you can't think I'm following him but fast enough that you don't think I'm walking too slow. Everyone might think I'm a weirdo if I walked too fast or slow.

The morning seems to move slow and right before lunch, the loud speaker makes an announcement.
"Evan Hansen, please report to the principal's office. Evan Hansen, please report to the principal's office."

I slowly stand up, and everyone's eyes are on me. I quickly gather my stuff into my bag and try not to walk too quickly to the teacher's desk for my pass. He hands it to me and waves me out. I nod and make a low noise that was supposed to be a thank you.

Did I do something?
Did Jared get in trouble?
Did Jared get me in trouble?
Is my mom okay?
Are we okay?
Did everyone read my letter?
Am I being accused of something?
Are people spreading rumors about me?
Did my dad come back?

I walk faster and try to focus on my breathing, playing with my book bag strap. I finally reach the office and spitting out apologizes.
"I'm s...s-orry, s-sir! I didn't...I didn't do anything! I p..p-promise!" I immediately say, but stop when I notice Principal Macks isn't in the office.
"Principal Macks decided it was best to step out for this," a tall man with a tie and grey hair tells me. "Have a seat."

I nod and sit on the edge of the couch, in case Principal Macks decides to step in and sit down.

"Cynthia, can you show him the note?" the tall man whispers, setting an arm on the shorter woman's shoulder.

"I'm going as fast as I can, Larry," she chokes out.

"I didn't say hurry up. Go as fast as you need," Larry assures her. Cynthia pulls out a piece of paper and slowly hands it to me.

Oh no. Now I'll be known as sex letter kid to everyone in the world.

"Our son, Connor...he...he wrote this for you," Larry explains as I take the letter.

Dear Evan Hansen,
  Turns out this wasn't an amazing day after all. This isn't going to be an amazing week, or an amazing year. Because why would it be? I know, because there's Zoe, and all my hope is pinned on Zoe, who I don't even know, and doesn't know me. Maybe if I could just talk to her. Maybe nothing would be different at all. I wish everything was different. I wish I was apart of something. I wish anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean, face it, would anyone notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?
Sincerely,
your most best, and dearest friend,
Me

"What...what's this?" I ask, roughly swallowing as I struggle to understand what's going.

"That's Connor's letter to..to you. He's in the h...h-hospital," Cynthia tells me, tears in her eyes.

I've never seen anyone so sad in their life.

"You don't...you don't u-understand. Connor...he, he didn't write this," I try to explain, furrowing my eyebrows as I look up at Connor Murphy's parents.

"What do you mean? It's addressed to you! He wrote it for you!"
It's like she's practically begging me for closure. And I can't provide it.

"He's clearing struggling to accept it," Larry whispers, giving me a side look as he wraps his arms around his wife.

I quickly stand up and hand the letter to them. "H..H-Here. Take...take the letter."
As Cynthia slowly takes the note I wrote, her eyes widen as she spots my cast.

"Larry...look...his cast," she points out. She reaches out a gentle hand and runs it over CONNOR.
"My boy." She breaks down and pulls away, sitting on the couch opposite of where I was.

Larry coughs awkwardly and rests an arm on my shoulder. "Why don't you come visit Connor in the hospital with us? Right now? You were...you are his best friend. You deserve to see his development," he offers.

I nod, quickly. I mess with the hems of my shirt, my fingers getting tangled.

    I take a deep breath as I look out of the backseat window of the Murphy car. Zoe is sitting next to me, an angry look etched on her face as she types on her phone.
I already texted Jared and Michael that I'd be out of school early but didn't say why.
When we pull up, I can feel my nerves getting worse.
What if Mom has work?
What if she's mad?
Will I have to lie?
Didn't I already lie?
Should I be honest?
I quickly decide that I'll be honest, but then I remember that she has class all day.
    Quickly, we walk to the hospital doors, Zoe trailing behind with her arms crossed.
"Who are you here for...oh, Murphy. This way," one of Mom's coworkers, Nancy, says. "You know what room."

I try to hide my face as we make our way up. No one's said a word yet.
Connor's room is on the third floor, and I count how many steps it takes to calm myself down.

There are dusty orbs, slight figures. Stuff I've seen for years.

Larry and Cynthia allow me to enter by myself, while Zoe plops herself down on the couch across the door.

"Hey, Connor," I whisper, closing the door. I don't really expect a reply, so I sit next to his bed.

"You. You're Evan Hansen. I don't know who the hell you think you are!" a male voice says from the bathroom. I jump back.

"Who...what...are y-you?" I ask, my hands clenching the edges of my seat.

"I'm Connor Murphy. And I'm almost fucking dead."