"I'll park the car. You can get out," Zoe muttered. Neither of them had said a word to the other the whole way, but the silence hadn't been unpleasant — plus, he'd had the SQUIP to talk to, though that admittedly wasn't the best company.

Connor opened the car door, climbing out with a small "thank you" — per the SQUIP's instruction, of course. Zoe drove off to find a parking spot, leaving him alone at the side of the road.

He took a deep breath. Time to start the day.

Nothing of note happened as he walked down the corridors to his homeroom. A couple funny looks, perhaps, and every so often someone commented something about him in a badly disguised whisper.

Keep walking, the voice in his head ordered; he'd stopped right in the doorway of the classroom, earning him a shove and a glare from some tall kid. He did as he was instructed, flopping down in his seat. His back pocket made a papery, crinkling sound as he sat down.

What's in your pocket?

Connor shrugged. 'I dunno.' He was being a lot more cautious now about talking to the SQUIP aloud, now he was at school — he didn't want anyone thinking he was more crazy than they already thought he was.

Well, find out, it said impatiently, and he shoved his hand into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small piece of paper. It was wrinkled, and a huge tear ran down part of it, so there was a large chunk dangling off of one side. Cautiously, he unfolded it, taking one glance at the first line — Dear Evan Hansen — before crushing it in his fist once again.

The SQUIP seemed to have read all of the letter in that time, though, because it spoke again. Who is Evan Hansen? A pause, uninterrupted by Connor's reply. He's the one you pushed in the cafeteria, correct?

'He was laughing at me.' Even now, he realised how pathetic that sounded. The grating voice laughed.

Apologise. Give the letter back.

'He's not in my homeroom,' Connor argued, just as someone opened the door again. Of course, it was Evan.

"Shit," he mumbled out loud.

Again, the laugh. Just go on. He won't hurt you.

That, at least, was true. He hadn't even noticed Evan yesterday, until the cafeteria. He was slightly hunched over, trying to make himself as small as possible. There was an air of quiet nervousness around him; in all honesty, he seemed like the only person at school who needed a SQUIP as much as he did. Which made him wonder why Rich had spoken to him instead.

Rich had his instructions, the SQUIP explained, right on cue. And so do you. So go.

A smaller electric shock made him flinch, rubbing his arm where it now tingled. Slowly he stood up. Smoothed out the letter in between his fingers.

"Hansen, right?"

Evan turned, a mixture of shock and perhaps horror on his face. "That's me, yeah—"

"Right." Connor paused, hesitating like a deer in headlights; completely lost on what to do now he'd got here.

Say sorry and give back the letter.

"I found your letter in my pocket. Sorry I took it." His words were stiff but genuine — as genuine as the surprise on Evan's face as he shakily reached for the letter, as if expecting Connor to snatch it back up any second.

Evan took it and folded it carefully, replacing it in his back pocket.

"I'm sorry for writing about your sister. It wasn't a sex letter or anything, I swear," he promised. "Did you end up reading it?"

"No, I didn't. What was it?" Connor asked, struggling to keep his voice emotionless.

"It was for therapy. I have to write letters to myself. Weird, I know, but... I only mentioned your sister because she actually talked to me. Once or twice, anyway. Sorry."

"Right." He let out a sigh. Evan clearly wasn't lying. "Does it work?"

"Does it look like it works?" A pretty sad joke, but it still made Connor laugh. Evan managed a small smile.

The bell rung, just as a teacher entered the classroom and sat themselves down at the front of the room. "Sit down, everyone. That includes you two, Hansen and Murphy," they announced.

"Uh... thanks again for giving the letter back," Evan mumbled. He was visibly more relaxed now, a lot of the tenseness Connor had seen when he'd approached was gone.

"No worries."

Connor found his chair again, flopping into it as the teacher called out everybody's name. Well done, the SQUIP praised. Decent enough for a first interaction. Or... third.

He could practically hear the SQUIP thinking as he mindlessly scratched at the desk with his nails. You know, Evan would be a good... stepping stone for your image. You don't want to be popular, do you?

He shook his head.

Despite that, we need to make you seem more approachable, and the best way to do that is to have approachable people around you. Evan and the two he was with yesterday might be 'losers', but people still like them. They're not scared of any of them. They just exist.
You do more than that. You draw attention to yourself and cause problems. We have to change that. You have to befriend Evan Hansen.

'Absolutely not,' Connor snapped, barely able to keep himself from speaking out loud. The voice laughed again.

Why? Let me assure you, there is a less than four point nine percent chance Evan will reject you; the other two, there is a ten percent chance. If you do exactly as I say, the likelihood of rejection will dip to almost zero. You have to do it.

'I don't want to do it.'

They're the only people who will accept you right now.

'What about the ten percent chance of rejection, then?'

Irrelevant. Do what I say, and you'll be fine, the SQUIP informed him.

Connor paused. The SQUIP was probably right; they were the only people who would accept him in his current state. Despite Rich being almost friendly towards him, especially when he'd handed over the pill, he'd now switched back to ignoring him like everybody else. Besides, Evan and his friends (minus Jared) seemed like nice enough people. If they got along, it could help him massively.

'Fine. I'll try it, okay?'

If the SQUIP had a face, Connor could tell it would have been smiling. Perfect.