The first day of senior year.

Evan Hansen took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was about to happen. His fingers tightened around a piece of paper before he shoved it in his back pocket. Repeating the same words over in his head.

Dear Evan Hansen. Today's going to be a great day, and here's why.

Again and again, over and over, the consistency of the words almost calming. This would be fine.

Evan started to walk, up the steps and into the huge building. The corridors were packed, and there were few familiar faces, mixed with a lot of new ones. He passed different groups, laughing and talking like they'd just heard the funniest thing in the world, before moving on to the next.

His locker number was scribbled on the side of his palm, written by the same sharpie he now had clutched in his other hand. He'd promised his mother he'd put himself out there. The sharpie was just a tool to do so; asking people to sign the huge white cast on one arm was a decent conversation starter.

The first group of people who seemed vaguely approachable were talking (in fairly loud voices) about something that had happened over the summer. Three girls.

The first one — a brunette, wearing a sparkly purple jacket — was speaking right now. Evan stopped, not intending on listening in, but they all seemed very invested in what they were saying; he didn't want to interrupt.

"So, Jenna Rolan said Madeline told Jake: 'I'll only have sex with you if you beat me at pool'. And then she lost at pool. Deliberately," the girl spoke, drawing out the last word with particular distaste.

"That is so awesome," a shorter blonde piped up.

"Brooke!" the first girl yelled. The blonde one, Brooke, flinched back slightly.

"I mean slutty!"

"And then, Madeline was all like—"

"I'm telling the story, Jenna!" she snapped again, this time at the other girl in the group. A taller, curly-haired one, presumably named Jenna, who had been attempting to speak.

Evan backed away pretty quick.

He dodged past a couple more boys, trying to spot someone by themselves he might actually be able to talk to. He noticed someone he did recognise a little further down the hall, close to his locker — a small win, but something. He wouldn't have to go far. Alana Beck.

He swallowed, preparing himself.

"Hey, I—"

"Hey! How was your summer?" Alana immediately asked, turning around like she hadn't heard him try to speak a moment before.

He blinked.

"Mine was productive," she said instantly, not giving him any time to respond. "I did three internships. And ninety hours of community service. I know: wow, right?"

"Yeah, that's really—"

"Even though I was so busy, I still made some great friends. Or..." She reconsidered. "Acquaintances, I guess."

While Alana paused for breath, Evan seemed to gather his courage. "Do you want to— uh, maybe you'd want to... I thought maybe you'd like to sign my cast?" He held out the sharpie, feeling a little stupid, as she stared down at his cast.

"Oh my god, what happened to your arm?"

"Well, I actually fell—"

Cut off yet again by Alana. Not that he minded too much.

"My grandma fell over the summer. She broke her hip or something. The doctors said it was the beginning of the end. Because then she died."

There was an awkward silence, in which Evan jammed the pen back into his pocket.

"Well, have a good first day!" Alana smiled cheerfully, carrying on her way past him to her class.

She hadn't signed his cast, but other than that, it was a fairly successful interaction.

He walked the next couple steps to his locker, squinting to read the combination he'd been given and opening it, just to check it worked okay. As he did so, he heard someone approach.

"So, how does it feel to be the first person in history to break their arm from jerking off too much?" Jared Kleinman asked, a little grin on his face. There were two kids Evan didn't recognise stood behind him; one in red and one in blue. The one in red laughed, elbowing Jared. He couldn't help thinking they both looked awfully similar to each other.

"That's not what I—" Evan started.

"He's only teasing. If that was anyone, it'd be Jeremy," the kid in red joked, nudging his friend.

The person he could only assume was Jeremy rubbed his arm, looking indignant. "Michael!"

"I was being serious," Jared deadpanned, before the familiar smirk reappeared. Evan stood there awkwardly. Jeremy seemed to notice, pointing to his cast.

"So, what actually happened?"

"Oh! It's a funny story, actually— I fell out of a tree, and—"

"A tree? What are you, an acorn?" Jared laughed.

Michael elbowed him for a second time, causing him to wince and stamp on Michael's foot in retaliation.

In a sudden, small burst of courage, Evan pulled the pen from his pocket.

"Do, uh— do any of you wanna sign my cast?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure!" Jeremy offered him a small smile, taking the pen. He tugged the cap off with a little difficulty, leaning over and writing his name in tiny, neat lettering on the top of his cast, near the thumb. Jeremy, and a smiley-face.

Michael shrugged, too, taking the pen from Jeremy and writing his name just underneath the other's. MICHAEL in block capitals, accompanied by a few tiny music notes and a very simple drawing of Pac Man. He snatched the cap, too, screwing it back on and handing it over when Jared blatantly refused to sign.

"There you go, uh..."

"Evan Hansen."

"Evan Hansen, then." Michael smiled. "Nice to meet you. And... goodbye," he added, perfectly in sync with the bell, starting to walk off.

Jeremy gave him a little wave, following him. Jared did the same, minus the wave.

All in all, not too bad for the first ten minutes of a new school year.