FicWad

Connor groaned; his phone was going off at nine am on a Saturday morning and nobody called him ever so clearly this was some kind of nightmare.

The phone finally stopped.

Connor pulled it from the pillow where he had left it.

Stared at it.

Missed call from Jared Kleinman.

Connor squinted at the phone suspiciously.

It had to be a buttdial or something.

He switched the phone to silent and buried his face in his pillows again.

Connor heard the phone vibrate again a moment later. He pulled it out from where it was buried in the blankets and stared at it.

Jared Kleinman. Again.

Connor tapped answer. “Hello?”

“CONNOR WHAT THE FUCK?”

He blinked a few times. “Sorry, what?”

“She DIES? Leslie DIES? Just… she’s dead? That’s it?”

Connor almost smiled. “Did you finish the book then?”

“He just went on a nice totally not pedo-date with his art teacher and comes back and BAM she’s freaking dead. That’s fucked up, man, that’s so messed up. Why’d you agree to let us read this?”

Connor sighed. “Because it’s a good book.”

“Dude, I freaking cried. You know the last time I cried? I was nine and I had just watched Star Wars for the first time. Okay?”

“You haven’t cried since you were nine? ” Connor asked, knowing he was focusing on the wrong thing. “Dude, what’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you ? You let me read some messed up death book!”

“It’s not messed up. That stuff happens sometimes.”

“Yeah, in horrible books that you conned me into reading!”

Connor’s heart dropped. Jared was going to drop out of the project, he was going to bail, he was going to tell everyone how awful Connor was and how weird the book was.

But then Jared laughed. “Dude that book is freaking sad. Now I kind of want to watch the movie anyways.”

“The movie’s okay,” Connor said, uncertainly.

“Isn’t it Disney?”

“I think so… Why are you up so early?” Connor asked.

And Jared let out an exasperated noise, like it was so beside the point, sighing. “Dude, I wasn’t kidding about this bar mitzvah thing. I got woken up at seven thirty this morning to help call a caterer and crap.”

“Why are you doing that?” Connor asked.

“Because I’m a man now, asshole.”

Connor laughed.

“But mostly because my mom is stressed out and my dad is just not helping… I dunno. I sorta felt bad.”

Connor blinked. Why was Jared telling him this? So he asked him.

“I dunno dude. Nevermind.”

“No! No, sorry, I meant… it’s just. Nevermind. Forget I said anything. I’m sorry your dad’s not helping. My dad’s like that too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I dunno, he’s probably banging his secretary or something. He’s always golfing or working late and stuff.”

“Lame-sauce. Sorry bro.”

“Eh, it’s whatever.”

“So, we’re still on for tomorrow right? To write up this presentation on the saddest book ever?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“My mom wants to know if you have any food allergies.”

Connor smiled. “Nope.”

“Thank God, my mom once accidentally sent peanut butter cookies to a bake sale where some kid had a peanut allergy and she almost died of embarrassment.”

“Was the kid okay?”

“Dude, that’s the worst part. The kid was out sick. ”

Connor smiled.

And then there was a knock on the door. His dad, who didn’t wait for him to respond, swung the door open. “Connor. Downstairs, now please.”

“Hang on,” He said to Jared, then took the phone away from his face. “I’m on the phone.”

His dad rolled his eyes. “Wrap it up and meet me downstairs in ten minutes. And take a shower, you stink.”

His dad walked out.

Connor rolled his eyes. “Sorry, my dad’s being a dick.”

“Fucking dads, man.”

“Yeah.” Connor sighed. “Anyway, I guess I’ve gotta go.”

“Fine. I’ll add more notes to the google doc, okay?”

“Great.”

“We should see if the movie’s on netflix. We can make part of the presentation on like… movie adaptations of childhood trauma.”

“You’re kind of dramatic,” Connor said, laughing.

“Like you’re not?”

Connor laughed again. “Later.”

“Bye.”

Connor dragged himself through the shower, his arms and legs moving slower than he expected. Having perked up a little over Jared’s phone call didn’t seem to be helping his mood much.

Just the whole shower thing could be too much sometimes. All of the water, the being naked, having to wash his hair… and now that it was sort of shaggy, having to comb it out was a process too.

So it took him fifteen minutes to get downstairs. His dad was at the table, eating toast. Zoe had stayed at a friend’s the night before.

Connor didn’t know where his mom was.

“Where’s mom?”

His dad sighed. “I don’t… some kind of meditation thing she’s trying?”

Connor nodded. There wasn’t anything for him to eat at the table so he went and poured himself some cereal before sighing and having a seat next to his dad.

“Your mom said you’re going to a friend’s house tomorrow?”

Connor didn’t miss his dad’s disbelieving tone of voice. “It’s for a school project.” He started shoveling cereal in his mouth, hoping that if he ate fast enough his dad would get to the point, whatever it was, and leave him alone.

His dad heaved a massive sigh. “I’m going to the barber shop in about ten minutes. You’re coming with me.”

“What?” Connor said, dropping his spoon loudly into his cereal bowl. “No.”

“Connor, you need to do something about your hair.”

“No, I don’t . It’s fine .”

“No, it makes you look like a little girl,” His dad said. He didn’t even yell it. He said it like the fact was so true it was exhausting.

“But-”

“No buts. You’re getting a haircut.”

“I don’t want one! My hair’s not even that long!” It really wasn’t; there were plenty of guys at school and at the high school with much longer hair than Connor’s. His barely hung over his ears.

“If you want the other kids to stop picking on you at school, then you need to start acting like the other kids. I know it’s not what your mother is saying, and I know it’s not the most PC thing in the world, but it’s true. So. We’re going. Put your shoes on.”

Connor felt like his stomach had disappeared entirely from his body.

He.

He didn’t want a haircut.

He especially didn’t want one just because his dad thought it might make him look more normal.

But then.

God.

Then there was the piece of him that did want to look more normal. That thought, hopefully, desperately, that maybe… maybe then somebody other than some high school stoners or well meaning teachers might want to talk to him if he looked less… like himself. That maybe if he just… tried a little harder to be less weird, it might. Be better.

“Fine,” Connor said. Eyes down. Not even going to fight him.

His dad looked at him, apparently surprised. “Alright. Get your shoes.”



His dad didn’t bother asking Connor what he wanted to do with his hair. He just looked at the barber, said, “Just buzz it all, it’s almost summer” and the barber basically did just that.

Which.

Frankly, Connor ought to have expected this. Should have prepared mentally, should have actually fought with his dad to come up with some kind of compromise on acceptable hair lengths but instead he was getting his head just buzzed and it was awful all because he tried to listen to his dad for once.

His head was too skinny and long to be shaved; his ears were definitely too big. It made him look even more like a baby; his eyes looked bigger, his face looked rounder.

It was really bad. He could tell before it was even half finished.

He had to press his nails hard into the palm of his hand to keep from yelling or crying or freaking out.

His dad got some kind of trim-and-shave situation that made him look exactly the same as before he came in. He kept saying how much better Connor looked now that he didn’t have “all of that damn hair in his face.”

Connor thought he looked like a cancer patient with terrible acne every time he caught sight of his reflection.

He thought he looked like he had lost a bet with a lawn mower.

He thought that school on Monday was going to be an absolutely joke. He could practically hear the jokes already, the comments, the whispers, the pointing out his massive stupid ears and his spotty, gross face, and his stupid eyebrows that seemed too thin and too girly on his face suddenly. And then there was the glasses. God.

He looked insane.

He looked like he belonged in a nuthouse.

No hair, big eyes, huge glasses.

He looked like a bug.

Like that cartoon turtle Franklin. But with fucking glasses.

He wanted to scream.

Hide in his room for the rest of his life which would hopefully be short.

He also really wanted to hit his dad. Something about hitting him in the garage had made Connor just… always want to hit his dad.

“You want to stop at the store, pick you up some new shoes to wear for Monday?”

Connor shook his head. “No. Thanks.” He was too tired to imagine being dragged around a shoe store with Larry.

“You really do look better,” Larry said, but this time there was an edge to it. Like, agree or else.

“Thanks,” Connor mumbled, staring out the window.

He knew it was stupid. It was just hair. It grew back.

But he felt so naked without it. Vulnerable. Like, until the moment the barber switched on the buzzers it was the only thing standing in between Connor and the rest of the world. And now it was gone.

And he looked. Just.

So.

Stupid.



Naturally Zoe laughed when Connor and their dad walked in; Larry had insisted on a drag-and-whine through Target because he complained that Connor needed to try some kind of industrial strength acne thing and a certain deodorant and also he needed a bunch of more “acceptable” clothes which was just code for things that Connor would literally rather pluck out his own eyeballs with a spoon than be caught dead wearing.

“You look like a Martian!” Zoe said, snorting through her nose.

His mom was sort of frowning at Zoe while she laughed. She didn’t say anything to Connor. She didn’t say anything at all.

Connor looked at her blankly, biting his lip hard. “I’m going to my room,” he said to nobody in particular, and then stomped up the stairs. He flung himself onto his bed, his throat burning, his face burning, literally everything inside and out was on fire.

Was there anything he could do where the end result wasn’t so fucking embarrassing?

He rolled on to his back, staring at the ceiling. As a kid he and his dad had decorated the ceiling with hundreds of glow in the dark stars. Connor had been five or six. His dad had hoisted Connor onto his shoulders and Connor had helped to stick all of the stars in a nonsense pattern, forming little constellations across the ceiling.

A tear or two slipped, hot and uncomfortable, down the side of his face and then down his newly shaved neck.

He was fucking crying over his stupid hair.

He was such a freaking girl.

As if he couldn’t get any more pathetic.

He wiped his face roughly.

Grabbed the chair from his desk. Stood up on it.

Stayed up there for a moment, because his brain was trying to do the math to determine if he could hang himself from the exposed support beam in his bedroom.

He probably wasn’t tall enough.

Plus he didn’t really know how.

Connor stared at the ceiling from the top of his desk chair.

And.

Started ripping down the stars from his ceiling. He could just barely reach if he stood on his toes.

The ceiling was rough and the glue wasn’t interested in budging. Connor picked stars off of the ceiling until his fingers ached and his nails were ripped up and a little bloody. He piled them all into the trash bin, breathing too fast and too hard, but his face finally dry.

That night he could hear his parents arguing.

Connor just kept trying to read the latest book he got out of the library. It was about some kids at a boarding school in the south. The main kid was obsessed with this girl called Alaska. Connor didn’t know why he thought she was so great.

“You could have at least told me that you were doing it!”

“He’s acting like I dragged him there. He agreed to get a haircut!”

Alaska smoked cigarettes. She told weird stories about getting her boobs honked and tried to hook the kid, Miles, up with some other girl even though Miles obviously had a thing for Alaska.

“Well, forgive me Larry, but I have a feeling that you didn’t mention that you were planning to shave his head!”

“Lots of kids wear their hair like that! It’s about to be summer!”

“Connor has never worn his-”

“-Connor has got to stop standing out so much if he’s going to make it to high school, Cynthia! I mean, look at him. Look at the clothes you let him out of the house in! I keep expecting to come home to find him in a face full of makeup or, like, painting his nails with Zoe!”

“So?” Connor heard his mother demand, sounding indignant. “Why is that something you’re so concerned about?”

“I just want him to be normal! I didn’t realize that was a crime !”

There was a knock on his door. Which surprised him, since his parents were obviously both still downstairs screaming at each other.

It was Zoe. Of course.

“What do you want?” Connor asked her in a low voice.

“I’m sorry I laughed at you earlier,” Zoe said. She looked sorry too. It was weird. Connor couldn’t think of the last time she owed him an apology. Or the last time he might have remotely deserved one.

He shrugged. “It’s fine.” They both sort of stared at the floor.

You should say something, Connor thought. Try, come on, she’s trying.

“I’m sorry I wrecked your diary…” He said. Mumbled. Eyes trained on the floor like it was the most fascinating floor in the world. “And that I read it. That… wasn’t nice.”

Zoe let out a soft sort of noise, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you…?” Connor started. Stopped. Stared so hard at the floor that if he had any latent superpowers he was certain they would manifest in that exact second and burn a whole in the hardwood. “Do you really like Brian?”

He didn’t really want to know because what if she really did? Or if she didn’t but she just wanted to hurt him? What was he opening his mouth for?

Their parents kept on yelling downstairs. Connor caught the words “-probably turn out gay with the way you coddle him, Cynthia-” and wished he could just suddenly be deaf. He was half tempted to shove his fingers into his ears and hum like a crazy person because he just… he was already so worried about that, he was already so confused, and there his dad was, saying how bad it was, saying how it was Connor’s mom’s fault when it was so clearly Connor’s own fault for being built wrong, for being a weirdo, for reading instead of ever actually talking to people….

“I don’t know,” Zoe said, quietly, answering his question. So quietly her voice almost got lost in the shout from downstairs “It’s the twenty first century, Larry, you are the only person I know who would have a problem with having a gay son-”

“Want to blast music to drown them out?” Zoe asked, sounding hopeful. “We can dance it out like we used to do? That might get them to stop.”

Connor didn’t really feel like jumping around and dancing with Zoe. He was certain he would just make a fool of himself, and besides, it felt like a little kid thing to do now. But he agreed because he never got to hang out with Zoe anymore, and for once they weren’t fighting, and he was trying not to be such a loser/disaster around his sister which might help him practice being normal.

He let her pick the music, and she picked something fast and loud, and they jumped around like crazy people until their parents finally shut up.



His mom insisted on dropping him off at Jared’s. Which was so embarrassing because Jared lived less than a mile away and Connor could have just ridden his bike like a normal person.

But his mom seemed convinced that she needed to meet Jared’s parents before leaving Connor alone there. Which, Connor supposed was fair, seeing as he had literally no friends and for all he knew Jared’s invite was just some inventive way to torture him.

So Connor and his mom went to the Kleinmans’ front door together, and Connor rang the doorbell quickly, like the faster he did it the sooner it could all just be over.

Connor had texted Jared to warn him about his overprotective mother, so thankfully Mrs. Kleinman answered the door. “Hi! You must be Mrs. Kleinman,” Connor’s mother said.

“Rebecca, please.”

“Cythnia.”

They shook hands.

“And this is my Connor,” Connor’s mom said, and Connor tried not to scowl at that. He really really really hated it when his mother introduced him as her Connor. As if there were fifteen other Connors running around and she needed to clarify which was hers.

“Nice to meet you, Connor,” Mrs. Kleinman said. “Jared’s in his room getting set up. He’s very excited to work on this project.”

Connor tried his best to smile as if Mrs. Kleinman wasn’t super dumb for thinking that was remotely true.

“Well, I will be by if to pick Connor up around five o’clock,” his mom said. “And here is my number. Call if you need anything at all.”

Mrs. Kleinman nodded, smiling, and then stepped away from the door to let Connor inside. “Sh-shoes off?” He asked, nervously. He hadn’t actually been invited to someone else’s house in so long he wasn’t sure what the rules were anymore.

“Please.”

Connor toed off his sneakers, trying to smile.

“I don’t know if Jared told you but his friend Evan is also over. His mom had to go out of town unexpectedly.”

Connor blinked, surprised. “Evan… Hansen?”

“Yes, he’s in your grade.”

“Oh,” Connor said, trying and failing to sound like this did not bother him in the slightest. “Cool.”

“Great,” Mrs. Kleinman said, looking a little relieved. “The boys are upstairs in Jared’s room. First door on the right.”

Connor nodded, smiled as best he could, and then headed up the stairs.

He didn’t want to hang out with Evan Hansen.

Evan Hansen was weird and quiet and the only time they had ever really talked was the day that Evan couldn’t stop crying after Brian tried to drown Connor in the toilet.

Plus like.

It wasn’t like Evan could work on the project with them.

It was stupid, but Connor was… weirdly disappointed not to get to actually spend the time with just Jared. Which he knew made him creepy and weird and lame as hell but he just didn’t want Evan Hansen there too.

He reached Jared’s door, which was open a little, and knocked.

Jared answered it a second later. “Dude! What happened to your hair?”

“My dad,” Connor said dully.

“Evan’s here too,” Jared said. “His dad’s also an asshole.” Jared opened the door and Connor stepped inside. Jared had a lofted bed with a desk underneath that housed an expensive looking desktop computer. There was a television in the corner and a new looking gaming system.

“Jared,” Evan said, his face turning a blotchy red. He was sitting in a beanbag chair.

“What did your dad do?” Connor asked, eyebrows raised.

Evan mumbled something unintelligible in the direction of his lap.

Connor looked at Jared for a translation.

“Just trust me, his dad’s in the club too,” Jared said. “Evan we’ve got to work on our project. Do you want headphones or something?”

Evan shook his head a little too aggressively. “Have to finish mine, it’s fine, I can r-read while you talk.”

Connor didn’t want to be friendly. But he was trying to be normal, so, maybe normal meant being nice to the only kid weirder than him. “Who did you get paired with?”

Evan’s face got redder. “Oh. Um. A-Alana?”

Connor nodded. He knew her. They had been paired together during frog dissections in their biology class earlier this year. Connor thought it was pretty messed up that they were dissecting frogs in the seventh grade. That felt like it ought to have waited until high school at least. “What are you guys reading?”

“Sh-Sherman Alexie… um,” Evan held up a copy of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian.

Connor smiled. He had actually really liked that book, even though it was super messed up. “I thought that one was pretty good.”

“Yeah? M-me too. So far.”

Jared sat in his computer chair and indicated a papasan chair in the corner to Connor. He didn’t know anyone who had this many chairs in their bedroom. Connor wondered if Jared had people over a lot.

“So, I read over your notes,” Jared said, nodding to himself. “And I think we should probably talk about the way that being a boy or being a girl is, like, important in the book or whatever. I think that’s, like, half of the plot and stuff.”

“Okay.”

“Is there like a smarter, nerdy ass way of saying that?” Jared said, smirking at Connor.

Connor bit his lip, trying to think. “Um… I guess we could say, like… Something about the, er, role of gender or something like that?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, that’s good, let me write that down.”

They went back and forth like that for over an hour, spitballing ideas, and laughing. A lot.

It almost didn’t feel like work, Connor thought.

Jared was always making these snarky or mean comments. Mostly, they made Connor laugh. Like when he carried on about how dumb the name “May Belle” was, or how he thought it was messed up that not only did the girl in the book die, but before that she made friends with someone “whose dad is a bigger asshole than any of ours.”

“I thought that made her seem more realistic,” Connor said, weirdly feeling the need to defend Janice Avery, the bully who stole Twinkies from Jesse’s dumb little sister.

“Maybe, but like… I dunno. I don't think I'd make friends with someone who I knew wanted to beat me up," Jared said.

"That was pretty messed up, what they did, acting like her crush and whatever,” Connor said.

Jared rolled his eyes. “Awww do you have a crush Janice, Connor?”

“Shut up,” Connor said, but he knew his face had lit up. Still. Being teased by Jared like that didn’t feel so terrible.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t do the same thing to Brian Harris if you thought you could get away with it?” Jared said. "Because I have a feeling you don't really want to make friends no matter how much of a dick his dad is."

“I might punch him,” Connor said, rolling his eyes. “But that crush thing was mean."

A little while later, Jared declared their powerpoint “mostly finished, for like, now” and then called to Evan that he should quit reading. Evan looked surprised that Jared was talking to him. “We’re gonna watch the movie. You wanna watch it?”

Evan shrugged. “I haven’t… I read the book a while ago.”

“So?” Jared said. “We’re being all intellectual and crap. I’m going to go bug my mom for popcorn.” He sort of walked lazily out of the room.

Connor had never been that comfortable in his own house.

He didn’t know it was even possible.

Meanwhile, Evan, frozen on the beanbag chair, looked as far from comfortable as possible. He looked the way Connor felt at school. Like one wrong move could blow the whole thing sky high.

Connor didn’t like being alone with Evan.

He wished Jared would hurry up.

“So,” Evan said, and Connor almost jumped in surprise. Evan’s face flushed again, and he ducked his head. He cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Um… have you… seen the movie?”

Connor shook his head. “No.”

“I saw it awhile ago,” Evan said, quietly.

“Is it good?”

He shrugged. “Too many bad graphics.”

Connor smiled. “Who’s your favorite character? In the book?”

Evan bit his lip. “Leslie.”

“How come?”

Evan gave him some kind of twisted half smile. “I don’t have T.V. either.”

“For real?” Connor said.

“Yeah… my mom decided to cut cable and…” Evan snapped his mouth closed, like he'd said too much.

But Connor smiled. “My mom had a phase with that too. She also took away all of our phones for a couple of weeks until we caught her texting in the bathroom.”

Evan smiled.

Jared reappeared with popcorn and a few sodas tucked under his arm. “My mom wants to know if you wanna stay for dinner, Connor. She’s being all weird about us ‘spoiling our food.’”

Connor blinked, surprised. “Um.”

“She’s making pasta.”

“Um. I’ll have to text my mom?”

“My mom said she’ll call if you wanna.”

Connor shrugged. “Okay. Sure.”

Jared smiled. “Cool.” He dropped the popcorn and soda on the small table near the beanbag chair. “MOM! HE SAID HE’LL STAY.”

Connor sort of smiled.

“Alright nerds, let’s watch this hella sad movie."