froyo / dear evan hansen

tw: alcohol abuse, suicidal tendencies

it's hot as zoe reaches jared's door. summer started only a couple of weeks ago, and the sun has been persistent. she wipes sweat from the top of her lip and knocks.

"it's, like, six p.m," scowls jared.

"do alison and andrew still keep that stocked booze cupboard?"

"well, yeah, but lucas is in."

zoe rolls her eyes. "he won't mind! how old is he, anyway? like, fourteen? he can drink."

jared just stares at her. "he absolutely cannot."

"alright fine," she huffs, folding her arms, "i just– really need it right now."

jared softens slightly as her voice cracked and lets her in. "we've got prosecco."

"anything stronger?"

he pauses before laughing. "bleach?"

"sounds perfect," zoe laughs, "one bleach martini, please."

jared opens the cupboard and takes out various bottles, which the sound attracts the notice of lucas.

"where are you guys–"

"just to zoe's." jared answers too quickly. "dad and allison will be home soon, yeah?"

lucas glares at his half-brother. "i'm fourteen. i can look after myself."

"alright, well, i won't be back for a while."

zoe helps jared stack to bottles into his backpack and they leave.

"god, it's hot." jared fans himself with his hand.

it's not dark yet. zoe remembers a time when it was dark and connor wasn't home and she was crying at the dinner table because she was twelve and he was thirteen and she hadn't realised how much her brother had hurt her. she regrets all the times she cried over him. all the one a.m mornings and running mascara in school bathrooms.

"so, what's up?" he asks as they reach their usual spot in the park –under a tree to the left of the half-hearted river. "we haven't done this since–"

"i know." zoe snaps, not wanting to be reminded of that evening. "he's gone again."

"he's gone? what do you mean? i thought he was–"

"'getting better'?" she rolls her eyes.

"well– yeah."

"i thought i was, too," zoe mutters as she opens a bottle of presecco. "god." she smirks before raising the bottle. "to shit relatives and years of trauma to come."

"i'll drink to that," jared raises his beer bottle too and they clink before putting the bottles to their lips.

zoe's always liked prosecco. she likes how it warms the back of your throat and how it fizzes in your mouth. she often exhausts jared's parent's prosecco supply. she truly doesn't know how many bottles of it she's gone through over the past few years. too many to be proud of, to say the least.

"god, i've missed this," jared laughs slightly.

zoe hasn't, not really. they used to do it a lot last year, and during the start of this year. it reminds her all too much of what happened, but, hey, she can just drink that away. drink away the beckoning memories of the cold sea and falafel burgers and a dance show with no connor.

"do you think i would die if i mixed everything together?" zoe asks, opening a can of cheap beer that she knows will taste like a floor.

"definitely."

"neat. let's try it."

"don't tempt me."

jared laughs along with zoe, but he doesn't know how she can joke about killing herself when connor had his fifth attempt earlier this year. how she can be so careless around anything dangerous. cigarettes and alcohol; just like her brother.

"so, where do you think connor is?"

"don't know; don't care."

"i thought—"

"i've given up. i just— can't anymore."

"what about dance?"

"you know how it is to not like someone but do."

jared is quiet for a long moment before shrugging. "i guess."

"but, anyway," zoe opens a bottle of wine. "who cares about that shit? let's just get fucking wasted and regret it in the morning."