Dear Evan Hansen
Page 3
And there’s nobody around
Do you ever really crash
Or even make a sound?
COMPANY:
When you’re fallin’ in a forest
Ah
And there’s nobody around
Do you ever really crash
Ah
Or even make a sound?
Did I even make a sound?
Oh
Did I even make a sound?
It’s like I never made a sound
Oh
Will I ever make a sound?
Oh
On the outside
Oh
Always lookin’ in
Will I ever be more
Than I’ve always been?
’Cause I’m tap-tap-tappin’
Oh
On the glass
Waving through a window
Oh
I try to speak
Oh
But nobody can hear
So I wait around
For an answer to appear
While I’m watch-watch-watchin’
Oh
People pass
Waving through a window
Oh
Oh
Can anybody see?
Is anybody waving . . .
Back at me?
Oh
Is anybody waving?
Oh
Waving
Waving
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh oh oh
TWO
Heidi, in her nurse’s scrubs, on her cell phone, a bit harried, an eye on the clock.
Evan, at school, on his phone.
HEIDI: Shit, honey. I know I was supposed to pick you up for your appointment. I’m stuck at work. Erica called in with the flu and I’m the only other nurse’s aide on today, so I volunteered to pick up her shift . . .
(Evan is used to this, almost expected it.)
EVAN: It’s fine.
HEIDI: It’s just, they announced more budget cuts this morning, so anything I can do to show that I’m, you know, a team player . . .
EVAN: It’s fine. I’ll take the bus.
HEIDI (Relieved): Perfect. That’s perfect. Oh and I’m going straight from here to class, so I won’t be home until late, so please eat something. We’ve got those Trader Joe’s dumplings in the freezer . . .
EVAN: Maybe.
HEIDI: Did you write one of those letters yet? Dr. Sherman’s expecting you to have one. “Dear Evan Hansen. This is going to be a good day and here’s why”?
EVAN (Lying): Yeah, no, I already finished it. I’m in the computer lab right now, printing it out.
HEIDI: I hope it was a good day, sweetheart.
EVAN: It was . . . yeah, it was really great.
HEIDI: Great. That’s great. I hope it’s the beginning of a great year. I think we both could use one of those, huh? Shit. I have to run. Bye. I love you.
(Heidi hangs up and goes.)
EVAN: Bye.
(A long moment alone.
Evan opens his laptop and begins to compose his letter.)
Dear Evan Hansen:
It turns out, this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because . . . why would it be?
Oh I know. Because there’s Zoe. And all my hope is pinned on Zoe. Who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me. But maybe if I did. Maybe if I could just talk to her, then maybe . . . maybe nothing would be different at all.
I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was a part of . . . something. I wish that anything I said . . . mattered, to anyone. I mean, face it: would anybody even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?
Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,
Me.
WAVING THROUGH A WINDOW (REPRISE)
EVAN:
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—
(Connor enters, holding a piece of paper.)
CONNOR: So. What happened to your arm?
EVAN: Oh, I um, I fell out of a tree actually.
CONNOR (Can’t help but laugh): You fell out of a tree? That is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Oh my God.
(Evan tries to laugh along.)
EVAN: I know.
CONNOR (Noticing): No one’s signed your cast.
EVAN: No, I know.
CONNOR: I’ll sign it.
EVAN: Oh. Um . . . you don’t have to.
CONNOR: Do you have a Sharpie?
(Beat.
Evan reluctantly pulls out a Sharpie, hands it to Connor.
Evan watches in dismay as Connor signs his name in an outsized scrawl, covering an entire side of the cast.)
EVAN: Oh. Great. Thanks.
CONNOR: Now we can both pretend that we have friends.
EVAN: Good point.
(Evan takes the marker, turns to go.
Connor holds out the piece of paper.)
CONNOR: Is this yours? I found it on the printer. “Dear Evan Hansen.” That’s your name, right?
(Evan feels a surge of fear.)
EVAN: Oh that’s just a stupid, it’s a paper I had to write for a, um, for an assignment . . .
(Connor looks down at the paper.)
CONNOR: “Because there’s Zoe.” (Realizing) Is this about my sister?
(Connor’s mood shifts suddenly, abruptly.)
EVAN: No. Not at all.
CONNOR: You wrote this because you knew that I would find it.
EVAN: What?
CONNOR: You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out, so that I would find it.
EVAN: Why / would I do that?
CONNOR: / So I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister, and freak out, right? And then you can tell everyone that I’m crazy, right?
EVAN: No. Wait. I don’t even, what?
CONNOR: Fuck you.
(He exits with the letter, as Evan calls after him.)
EVAN: But I really, I need that back. Please. Can you just, can you please give it back?
THREE
Evan and Jared, online.
JARED: A letter to yourself? What the crap does that even mean? It’s, like, some kind of sex thing?
EVAN: No, it’s not a sex thing. It’s . . . it was an assignment.
JARED: Why are you talking to me about this?
EVAN: I didn’t know who else to talk to. You’re my only . . . family friend.
JARED (Too pathetic to even engage): Oh my God.
EVAN: I don’t know what to do. He stole the letter from me three days ago, and then he just, he hasn’t been at school since.
JARED: That does not bode well for you.
EVAN: What is he going to do with it?
JARED: Who knows? Connor Murphy is batshit out of his mind. Do you remember when he threw a printer at Mrs. G. in second grade, because he didn’t get to be line leader that day?
EVAN: Do you think he’s going to show the letter to other people?
JARED (Obviously): He’s going to ruin your life with it. For sure. I mean, I would.
(Lights out on Evan and Jared as Alana appears alone, scanning her phone for emails, texts, anything, all traces of her typical studied cheeriness gone entirely.)
WAVING THROUGH A WINDOW (REPRISE #2)
ALANA:
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
FOUR
The principal’s office. Evan stands, confused.
Cynthia Murphy and Larry Murphy sit.
La
rry is stiff and sober, coiled fury just beneath the surface.
Cynthia is shattered, reeling.
They both look exhausted.
Evan looks petrified.
EVAN: Good morning. Is Mr. Howard . . .?
(They look at him, uncomprehending.)
I just, sorry, they said on the loudspeaker for me to go to the principal’s office . . .
(Larry suddenly realizes what he means.)
LARRY: Mr. Howard is, uh, he stepped out.
EVAN: Oh.
LARRY: We wanted to speak with you in private. If you’d like to maybe . . .
(Larry gestures to a chair, and Evan slowly sits.)
We’re, uh . . . we’re Connor’s parents.
EVAN: Oh.
(Cynthia reaches into her purse and pulls out a folded piece of paper. She holds it lovingly, almost cradling it.)
LARRY: Why don’t you go ahead, honey, and . . .?
CYNTHIA: I’m going as fast as I can.
LARRY: That’s not what I said, is it?
(A terrible pause.
Cynthia holds the letter out to Evan, her voice unsteady.)
CYNTHIA: This is . . . Connor . . . he wanted you to have this.
(Evan takes it, his face darkening.)
LARRY: We didn’t . . . we’d never heard your name before, Connor never . . . but then we saw . . . “Dear Evan Hansen.”
EVAN: He, um, he gave this to you?
LARRY: We didn’t know that you two were friends.
EVAN: Friends?
LARRY: We didn’t think that Connor had any friends. And then we see this note and it’s, this seems to suggest pretty clearly that you and Connor were, or at least for Connor, he thought of you as . . .
(He points to the letter.)
I mean, it’s right there. “Dear Evan Hansen.” It’s addressed to you. He wrote it to you.
EVAN (Realizing): You think this is, you think that Connor wrote this to me.
CYNTHIA: These are the words he wanted to share with you.
LARRY: His last words.
CYNTHIA: This is what he wanted you to have.
EVAN: I’m sorry. What do you mean, last words?
(Cynthia and Larry share a look.
A long, freighted silence.)
LARRY: Connor, uh, Connor took his own life.
EVAN (Stunned): He . . . what?
LARRY: This is all we found with him. He had it folded up in his pocket.
(Beat.)
You can see that he’s . . . he wanted to explain it, why he was . . .
(Larry recites it from memory:)
“I wish that everything was different. I wish that I were part of something. I wish that what I said mattered to / anyone.”
CYNTHIA: / Please stop it, Larry.
(Evan feels the familiar rush of panic, his hands starting to sweat.)
EVAN: But, that’s, this isn’t . . . I’m sorry. Connor, um, Connor didn’t write this.
CYNTHIA: What does that mean?
EVAN: Connor didn’t, he didn’t write this.
CYNTHIA (To Larry): What does he mean?
LARRY: He’s obviously in shock.
EVAN: No, I just, he didn’t . . .
CYNTHIA (Pointing to the letter): It’s right here.
EVAN: I’m sorry, but I should probably just, can I please go now?
CYNTHIA: If this isn’t, if Connor didn’t write this, / then . . .
LARRY: / Cynthia. Please. Calm down.
EVAN: I should go now.
CYNTHIA (Desperate to keep him here): But did he say anything to you? / Did you see anything—?
EVAN: / I really should go.
LARRY: Cynthia, honey. This is not the time.
CYNTHIA: This is all we have. This is the only thing we have left.
LARRY: Honey. Listen to me. Please.
(Larry puts a hand on hers.
She pulls away.
She begins to break down, inconsolable.)
Cynthia.
(Evan holds out the letter to them, urgently, as though he cannot get it out of his hands quickly enough.)
EVAN: You should just, you should take it. Please.
(Suddenly, Cynthia gasps.)
CYNTHIA: Larry. Look.
(She points to Evan’s arm.)
His cast.
(Evan looks down.
He lifts up his cast and realizes what Cynthia has seen: “Connor” in a Sharpie scrawl.
Cynthia turns to Larry, her eyes welling with tears of astonishment.)
His best and most dearest friend.
FIVE
Evan and Jared, online.
JARED: Holy. Shit.
EVAN: I didn’t say anything. I just, I couldn’t say anything.
JARED: Holy. Fucking. Shit.
EVAN: They invited me for dinner. They want to know more stuff about Connor and me, about our “friendship.”
(Elsewhere, Alana appears in a pin spot of light, online, alone.)
ALANA (Stunned): Still can’t believe the terrible news about @ConnorMurphy.
JARED: What are you going to tell them?
EVAN: I mean, the truth.
ALANA: I wouldn’t say that we were “friends” exactly. More like acquaintances.
JARED: The truth. Really. You’re going to go to the Murphys’ house and explain that the only thing left they have of their son is some weird sex letter that you wrote to yourself?
ALANA: We were in Chemistry together. I’m pretty sure.
JARED: You know, you could go to jail for this. If you get caught?
EVAN: But I didn’t do anything.
ALANA: He was also, he was in my English class in tenth grade. I’m almost positive.
JARED: Yeah, I hate to tell you this, Evan, but you may have already perjured yourself.
EVAN: Isn’t that only when you’re under oath? Like, in a court room?
JARED: Well, weren’t you under oath? In a way?
EVAN: No.
ALANA: Yeah, he was definitely in my English class.
JARED: Look, do you want to listen to me or do you want to have another meltdown like last year in English when you were supposed to give that speech about Daisy Buchanan, but instead you just stood there staring at your notecards and saying, “um, um, um,” over and over again like you were having a brain aneurysm?
EVAN: What do you expect me to do? Just keep lying?
JARED: I didn’t say, “lie.” All you have to do is just nod and confirm. Whatever they say about Connor, you just nod your head and you say, yeah, that’s true. Don’t contradict and don’t make shit up. It’s foolproof. Literally, nothing I tell my parents is true and they have no idea.
ALANA: Three days ago, Connor Murphy was here and now . . . now he’s gone.
EVAN: They were so sad. His parents? His mom was just . . . I’ve never seen anyone so sad before.
JARED: Well, then good thing you’re about to tell her the truth about your sex letter. I’m sure that will cheer her right up.
(Evan considers this, as Alana stares out, plaintively, yearning.)
ALANA: If Connor meant something to you, please re-tweet. Or private message me if you just want to talk. At times like these, we could all use a friend.
SIX
Dinner at the Murphys.
Prominently, in the center of the table, a bowl of fresh apples.
Evan is afraid to move or make a sound.
Larry serves himself seconds.
LARRY: Would anyone else like some more chicken?
CYNTHIA: I think you’re the only one with an appetite, Larry.
LARRY (Defensive): The Harrises brought it over.
CYNTHIA (To Evan): Did Connor tell you about the Harrises?
(Evan nods.)
We used to go skiing together, our families.
EVAN (Nods): Connor loved skiing.
ZOE: Connor hated skiing.
EVAN: Well, right. That’s what I meant. Connor loved . . . talking about how much he hated skii
ng.
(Zoe just stares at him.)
CYNTHIA: So you guys, you . . . you hung out a lot?
EVAN: Pretty much.
ZOE: Where?
EVAN: Oh you mean, like, where did we . . .? Well, we mostly hung out at my house. I mean, sometimes we’d come to his house if nobody else was here. We would email a lot, though, mostly. So we wouldn’t have to, he didn’t want to always hang out. In person, you know?
ZOE: We looked through his emails. There aren’t any from you.
EVAN: Well, no, of course, yeah, I mean, that’s because he had a different account. A secret account. I should have said that before. That was probably very confusing.
ZOE: Why was it secret?
EVAN: Just so that no one else could, it was more private, I guess, that way.
CYNTHIA (To Larry): He knew you read his emails.
LARRY: Somebody had to be the bad guy.
(A tense pause.)
ZOE (To Evan): The weird thing is, the only time I ever saw you and my brother together was when he shoved you at school last week.
CYNTHIA: He shoved you?
EVAN: I um . . . I tripped.
ZOE: I was there. I saw the whole thing. He pushed you, hard.
EVAN: Oh. I remember now. That was a misunderstanding. Because, the thing was, he didn’t want us to talk at school, and I tried to talk to him at school. It wasn’t that big a thing. It was my fault.