Help~Sincerely Three (a Dear Evan Hansen fanfiction) COMPLETED

Chapter Three-Suicidal Squad

Just as the man had said, the nurse wakes us up at ten o'clock sharp. I follow Jared to breakfast, where we get in line for a nice serving of eggs and pancakes. We sit next to a sandy-haired kid in the corner of the room. He's poking at his food with his fork, but he doesn't seem too interested in consuming it. It isn't until we get closer that I notice the bags under his eyes. 

"Morning, Evan." Jared grins.

"Hey, Jare." He looks up at me, and our eyes meet for a second or two. "Hi."

"Hi." 

"Oh, that's Connor," Jared says happily. How is this guy here?

"Okay, I'm sorry, but what the fuck is booty juice?" I ask. Jared snorts, and Evan facepalms.

"Sedatives," Evan grumbles. "Jared, if we weren't here, I would not hesitate to smack you across the face." 

"Because you don't want to get booty juiced?" 

"JARED!" Evan groans, running a hand through his hair. He turns to me. "I've been here for three months. I swear, I've never seen anybody get..." He cringes. "That." I tilt my head.

"Three months?" Evan nods. 

"You get used to it," Jared says, swallowing his pancake. "Besides getting woken up in the middle of the night to take blood and having somebody stand outside while you do your business, it isn't that bad." He pauses. "You should probably eat that. They keep it on record." I shrug, taking a bite of my pancake. It's the blandest thing I've ever tasted. He turns to Evan. "Did you get any sleep last night?" 

"A bit." 

"That's good." 

After breakfast is group therapy. There are two therapists in the building. They split us into two groups. Evan is in mine, Jared is in the other one. The therapist leads our group into a big room. -Once I see the chairs, I already know what we're doing- Sharing circle time, yay! We all take our seats. This chair is one of the most uncomfortable things that my ass has ever had the privilege of sitting on. Evan sits on my right, and a girl with blue hair sits on my left. 

"How is everybody doing today?" The therapist asks. Her blonde hair is up in a high ponytail. The group all mumbles some variation of 'fine.' The therapist nods. "Good. So, first, we're going to go around the circle and say something that makes us happy. For instance, flowers make me happy. Lola, you start." The person sitting next to her shifts uncomfortably. They look around fourteen. 

"U-um, I actually-"

"What's something that makes you happy, Lola?" Tears quickly flow to their eyes.

"Being called Jack." It all makes sense. I give him a soft look. The therapist nods. We go around the circle, everybody saying normal things, like 'dogs,' or 'food.' Evan says plants, and I say art. 

"Turner, what makes you happy?" We all turn our attention to this kid that looks like he came straight from the emo pits of hell. I swear, he even has tattoos on his eyes that make it seem like he's wearing eyeliner. He gives the therapist a blank look.

"The sweet release of death." 

We all fight back laughter. The therapist sighs. 

"Turner, what did we say? Keep an optimistic outlook and things will get better." Turner shakes his head, and we continue the exercise. After sharing circles, we're all brought outside for yoga. I'm starting to hate this more than being at home. 

Jared is terrible at yoga. Like, actually terrible. I watch in awe as he manages to fall out of every position we're told to do. Evan isn't surprised. He's actually pretty good, which I guess is expected since he's been here for a while. I've had some practice from all of those weekend retreats Cynthia and Larry send me to, but I'm nowhere near Evan.

What the fuck is happening to me? I haven't even been here one day and I'm comparing yoga skills! 

"Connor, please do the positions." The instructor says, and I sigh, flopping down onto my back. I don't feel like doing jack shit.

"Booty juice," Jared whispers, raising his eyebrows. Evan shoots him a glare. I decide that it isn't worth it, and get back into whatever the instructor was doing.