Dear Evan Hansen

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Dear Evan Hansen Page 2

by Steven Levenson

Only Us

  Zoe, Evan

  Good for You

  Heidi, Alana, Jared, Evan

  You Will Be Found (Reprise)

  Alana, Jared, Virtual Community

  Words Fail

  Evan

  So Big/So Small

  Heidi

  Finale

  Company

  ACT ONE

  ONE

  A quiet buzzing begins to sound just at the edge of our awareness, an indistinct murmuring of voices, as the house lights slowly fade.

  The murmuring builds, growing louder and louder, voices piling on top of one another.

  Millions of fragments of emails, status updates, cat videos, dessert recipes, revenge porn—the music of the spheres.

  Of a sort.

  Suddenly, sharply, nothing.

  Silence.

  Then, in the darkness, a laptop snaps open.

  The gauzy white glow of the screen illuminates the face of Evan Hansen, sitting at a desk with a hard cast on his left arm, alone.

  He begins to type.

  EVAN: Dear Evan Hansen:

  Today is going to be an amazing day, and here’s why. Because today, all you have to do is just be yourself.

  (Beat.)

  But also confident. That’s important. And interesting. Easy to talk to. Approachable. But mostly be yourself. That’s the big, that’s number one. Be yourself. Be true to yourself.

  (Beat.)

  Also, though, don’t worry about whether your hands are going to get sweaty for no reason and you can’t make it stop no matter what you do, because they’re not going to get sweaty, so I don’t even know why you’re bringing it up, because it’s not going to happen, because you’re just, all you have to do is be yourself.

  (Beat.)

  I’m not even going to worry about it, though, because seriously it’s not like, it’s not going to be like that time you had the perfect chance to introduce yourself to Zoe Murphy at the jazz band concert last year, when you waited afterward to talk to her and tell her how good she was, and you were going to pretend to be super casual like you didn’t even know her name, like she would introduce herself and you’d be like, “Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Chloe, you said your name was Chloe?” And she’d be, like, “No, it’s Zoe, I said, Zoe,” and you’d be, like, “Oh, see, I thought you said Chloe because I don’t even, I’m very busy with other stuff right now is the thing.” But then you didn’t even end up saying anything to her anyway, because you were scared your hands were sweaty which they weren’t that sweaty until you started worrying that they were sweaty, which made them sweaty, so you put them under the hand dryer in the bathroom, but then they were still sweaty, they were just very warm now, as well.

  (Lights shift and Heidi Hansen stands there, holding a twenty-dollar bill.)

  HEIDI: So you just decided not to eat last night?

  (Evan quickly shuts his laptop.)

  EVAN: Oh, I’m, um, I wasn’t hungry . . .

  HEIDI: You’re a senior in high school, Evan. You need to be able to order dinner for yourself if I’m at work. You can do it all online now. You don’t have to talk to anyone on the phone. I know you don’t like the phone.

  EVAN: Okay, but see, that’s not true actually. You have to talk to the delivery person when they come to the door. Then they have to make change. You have to stand there while it’s silent and they’re counting the change and . . .

  HEIDI: This is what you’re supposed to be working on, Evan. With Dr. Sherman? Talking to people. Engaging with people. Not running away from people.

  EVAN: You’re right. I’m going to be a lot better.

  HEIDI (Trying to put a positive spin on it): No, I know. I know you are. And that’s why I made you an appointment with Dr. Sherman for this afternoon. I’ll pick you up right after school.

  EVAN: I already have an appointment next week.

  HEIDI: And I thought maybe you could use something a little sooner. Have you been writing those letters he wants you to do? The letters to yourself? The pep talks? “Dear Evan Hansen. This is going to be a good day and here’s why.” Have you been doing those?

  EVAN: I started writing one. I’ll finish it at school.

  HEIDI: Those letters are important, honey. They’re going to help you build your confidence. Seize the day.

  EVAN (Dubious): I guess.

  HEIDI: I don’t want another year of you sitting at home on your computer every Friday night, telling me you have no friends.

  (Beat.)

  EVAN: Neither do I.

  ANYBODY HAVE A MAP?

  HEIDI:

  Can we try to have an optimistic outlook?

  Huh?

  Can we buck up just enough

  To see . . . the world won’t fall apart?

  Maybe this year we decide

  We’re not giving up before we’ve tried

  This year, we make a new start

  Hey, I know—you can go around today and ask the other kids to sign your cast, how about that? That would be the perfect icebreaker, wouldn’t it?

  EVAN: Perfect.

  HEIDI: I’m proud of you already.

  EVAN: Oh. Good.

  (Heidi exits the room, stands in the hall, realizing that this interaction has been an utter failure, as Evan packs up for school.)

  HEIDI:

  Another stellar conversation for the scrapbook

  Another stumble as I’m reaching for

  The right thing to say

  Well, I’m kinda comin’ up empty

  Can’t find my way to you

  Does anybody have a map?

  Anybody maybe happen to know how the hell to do this?

  I dunno if you can tell

  But this is me just pretending to know

  So where’s the map?

  I need a clue

  ’Cause the scary truth is

  I’m flyin’ blind

  And I’m making this up as I go

  (Lights shift to find the Murphys at the kitchen table.

  Zoe Murphy sits, eating cereal, leafing through a book.

  Larry Murphy, on his phone, scrolls through emails.

  Connor Murphy stares blankly into his cereal bowl.

  Cynthia Murphy stands, fussing over everything—pouring orange juice, topping off coffee, clearing finished dishes.)

  CYNTHIA: It’s your senior year, Connor. You are not missing the first day.

  CONNOR: I already said I’d go tomorrow. I’m trying to find a compromise here.

  CYNTHIA (Turns to Larry): Are you going to get involved here or are you too busy on your email, Larry?

  LARRY: You have to go to school, Connor.

  CYNTHIA: That’s all you’re going to say?

  LARRY: What do you want me to say? He doesn’t listen. Look at him. He’s not listening. He’s probably high.

  ZOE: He’s definitely high.

  CONNOR (To Zoe): Fuck you.

  ZOE: Fuck you.

  CYNTHIA (Admonishing Zoe): I don’t need you picking at your brother right now. That is not constructive.

  ZOE: Are you kidding?

  CYNTHIA: Besides, he is not high.

  (Cynthia looks to Connor to confirm this.

  He does not.

  She sighs.)

  I do not want you going to school high, Connor. We have talked about this.

  CONNOR: Perfect. So then I won’t go. Thanks, Mom.

  (Connor leaves.

  Cynthia begins clearing the dishes, lost in her own thoughts.)

  CYNTHIA:

  Another masterful attempt ends with disaster

  (Larry, looking at his phone, shakes his head.)

  LARRY: Interstate’s already jammed.

  CYNTHIA:

  Pour another cup of coffee

  And watch it all crash and burn

  (Zoe goes to pour herself more milk, shakes the carton, annoyed.)

  ZOE: Connor finished the milk.

  CYNTHIA:

  It’s a puzzle, it’s a
maze

  I try to steer through it a million ways

  But each day’s another wrong turn

  (Larry stands, offering Cynthia a perfunctory spousal peck.)

  LARRY: I better head out.

  ZOE: If Connor’s not ready, I’m leaving without him . . .

  (She and Larry exit.)

  CYNTHIA:

  Does anybody

  HEIDI:

  Have a map?

  Anybody have a map

  Anybody maybe happen

  Or happen

  To know how the hell

  To know how the hell

  To do this?

  To do this?

  I dunno if you can tell

  I dunno if you can tell

  But this is me just

  But this is me just

  Pretending to know

  Pretending to know

  (Evan and Connor appear in separate pools of light, just outside the school doors, fiddling with shirt collars, smoothing hair, and—for Evan—checking palms for signs of dampness, as the two young men anxiously prepare to face the day.)

  HEIDI:

  So where’s the map?

  CYNTHIA:

  I need a clue

  HEIDI/CYNTHIA:

  ’Cause the scary truth is

  CYNTHIA:

  I’m flyin’ blind

  HEIDI:

  I’m flyin’ blind

  I’m flyin’ blind

  I’m flyin’

  I’m flyin’ blind

  I’m flyin’ blind

  And I’m making this up

  And I’m making this up

  As I go

  As I go

  As I go

  As I go

  (As Cynthia and Heidi exit, the buzz of a school bell.

  Lights shift, finding Evan standing in a school hallway.

  Alana Beck enters, a certain barely concealed desperation in the eagerness with which she approaches Evan, in her almost too-wide smile.)

  ALANA: Hey. How was your summer?

  (Evan looks around, not sure if she’s speaking to someone else.)

  EVAN: My . . .?

  ALANA: Mine was productive. I did three internships and ninety hours of community service. I know: wow.

  EVAN: Yeah. That’s, wow. / That’s really impressive.

  ALANA: / Even though I was so busy, I still made some great friends. Or, well, acquaintances, more like.

  EVAN (Gathering his courage): Do you want to maybe . . . I don’t know what you’re, um . . . do you want to sign my cast?

  ALANA: Oh my God. What happened to your arm?

  EVAN: Oh. Well. I broke it. I was climbing a tree . . .

  ALANA (Not listening at all): Oh really? My grandma broke her hip getting into the bathtub in July. That was the beginning of the end, the doctors said. Because then she died.

  (Evan has no idea how to respond to this.

  Alana plasters on a glowing smile.)

  Happy first day.

  (Alana exits as Jared Kleinman approaches Evan with the kind of practiced swagger only the deeply insecure can truly pull off.)

  JARED: Is it weird to be the first person in history to break their arm from jerking off too much or do you consider that an honor?

  EVAN: Wait. What? I didn’t, I wasn’t . . . doing that.

  JARED: Paint me the picture: you’re in your bedroom, you’ve got Zoe Murphy’s Instagram up on your weird, off-brand cell phone . . .

  EVAN: That’s not what happened. Obviously. I was, um, well I was climbing a tree and I fell.

  JARED: You fell out of a tree? What are you, like, an acorn?

  EVAN: Well, I was, I don’t know if you know this, but I worked this summer as an apprentice park ranger at Ellison State Park. I’m sort of a tree expert now. Not to brag, but . . .

  (Jared says nothing.)

  Anyway. I tried to climb this forty-foot-tall oak tree.

  JARED: And then you fell . . .?

  EVAN: Well, except it’s a funny story, because there was this solid ten minutes after I fell, when I just lay there on the ground waiting for someone to come get me. Any second now, I kept saying to myself. Any second now, here they come.

  JARED: Did they?

  EVAN: No. Nobody came. That’s the, that’s what’s funny.

  JARED: Jesus Christ . . .

  EVAN: How was, what did you do for the, you had a good summer?

  JARED: Well, my bunk dominated in capture the flag and I got to second-base-below-the-bra with this girl from Israel who’s going to like be in the army . . . so, yeah, hopefully that answers your question.

  (Jared turns to go.)

  EVAN: Do you want to sign my cast?

  JARED: Why are you asking me?

  EVAN: Well, just, I thought, because we’re friends.

  JARED: We’re family friends. That’s like a whole different thing and you know it.

  (He punches Evan in the arm.)

  Hey. Tell your mom to tell my mom I was nice to you or else my parents won’t pay for my car insurance.

  EVAN: I will.

  (Connor crosses.)

  JARED: Hey, Connor. I’m loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic.

  (Connor stops, casts a withering glance at him.)

  I was kidding. It was a joke.

  CONNOR (Deadpan): Yeah, no, it was funny. I’m laughing. Can’t you tell? Am I not laughing hard enough for you?

  JARED (Laughs nervously, bravado gone): You’re such a freak.

  (Jared, laughing, nervously exits.

  Connor turns to Evan.

  Evan laughs, uncomfortable.)

  CONNOR: What the fuck are you laughing at?

  EVAN: What?

  CONNOR: Stop fucking laughing at me.

  EVAN: I’m not.

  CONNOR: You think I’m a freak?

  EVAN: No. I don’t—

  CONNOR: I’m not the freak.

  EVAN: But I wasn’t—

  CONNOR: You’re the fucking freak.

  (Connor shoves him to the ground as he storms away.

  Slowly, Evan stands.)

  WAVING THROUGH A WINDOW

  EVAN:

  I’ve learned to slam on the brake

  Before I even turn the key

  Before I make the mistake

  Before I lead with the worst of me

  Give them no reason to stare

  No slippin’ up if you slip away

  So I got nothin’ to share

  No, I got nothin’ to say

  Step out, step outta the sun

  If you keep gettin’ burned

  Step out, step outta the sun

  Because you’ve learned, because you’ve learned

  On the outside always lookin’ in

  Will I ever be more than I’ve always been?

  ’Cause I’m tap-tap-tappin’ on the glass

  Waving through a window

  I try to speak but nobody can hear

  So I wait around for an answer to appear

  While I’m watch-watch-watchin’ people pass

  Waving through a window

  Oh

  Can anybody see?

  Is anybody waving back at me?

  (Lights shift and Zoe enters.)

  ZOE: Hey. I’m sorry about my brother. I saw him push you. He’s a psychopath. Evan, right?

  EVAN: Evan?

  ZOE: That’s your name . . .?

  EVAN: Oh. Yes. Evan. It’s Evan. Sorry.

  ZOE: Why are you sorry?

  EVAN: Well, just because you said, Evan, and then I said, I repeated it, which is, that’s so annoying when people do that.

  ZOE: I’m Zoe.

  EVAN: No, I know.

  ZOE: You know?

  EVAN: No, just, I’ve seen you play guitar in jazz band. I love jazz band. I love jazz. Not all jazz. But definitely jazz band jazz. That’s so weird, I’m sorry.

  ZOE: You apologize a lot.

  EVAN: I’m sorry.

  (He catches himself.
)

  Or. I mean. You know what I mean.

  ZOE: Well, / I’ll talk to you later.

  EVAN: / You don’t want to sign my . . .?

  ZOE: What?

  EVAN (Instantly regretting his decision): What? What did you say?

  ZOE: I didn’t say anything. You said something.

  EVAN: No. Me? No way. José.

  ZOE: Um. Okay . . . José.

  (Zoe exits.)

  EVAN:

  We start with stars in our eyes

  We start believin’ that we belong

  But ev’ry sun doesn’t rise

  And no one tells you where you went wrong

  Step out, step outta the sun

  If you keep gettin’ burned

  Step out, step outta the sun

  Because you’ve learned, because you’ve learned

  On the outside always lookin’ in

  Will I ever be more than I’ve always been?

  ’Cause I’m tap-tap-tappin’ on the glass

  Waving through a window

  I try to speak but nobody can hear

  So I wait around for an answer to appear

  While I’m watch-watch-watchin’ people pass

  Waving through a window

  Oh

  Can anybody see?

  Is anybody waving . . .?

  When you’re fallin’ in a forest

  And there’s nobody around

  Do you ever really crash

  Or even make a sound?

  When you’re fallin’ in a forest

  And there’s nobody around

  Do you ever really crash

  Or even make a sound?

  When you’re fallin’ in a forest

 

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