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Library, Thursday All Day

It had taken most of Evan's morning, but he'd finally managed to calm down a minor uprising in the fashion section. Apparently there were some books on beards that had been attempting to boast superiority over the ones about moustaches, and Evan was going to have none of it. After that, he checked his e-mail, deleting the spam and then hesitating for a few minutes before opening up an email from one of his old classmates against his better judgement.

In retrospect, he should have probably predicted that an email about Halloween from the school bully was going to involve a suggestion for a costume that involved a scan of a yearbook photo of Evan, terribly photoshopped to look like a clown.

Well, there was his day, shot. Thanks, Quire.

[Open!]

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Zeela was providing a string of useful names and colorful insults that Sholeh could use to make her point, did she want to. And Sholeh was so upset right now, she was almost tempted to!

"Everyone in your last school sounds horrible," Sholeh said hotly. It was Impulsive Hug Time and she buried her face in Evan's shoulder. "I don't care what reasons they used--you don't deserve to be treated this way. And no one who really knows you would ever think you were going to do whatever horrible things they accuse you of!"

Evan closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, once, twice, three times around just to be sure.

"I just look like someone else," he murmured. "Like someone who did do really bad things, like a villain, and I'm not who they think I am. I'm not."

"That doesn't seem like a good enough reason to be hateful to somebody," Sholeh said, squeezing him a bit because he seemed like he needed a good squeeze. "So you look like someone else. So what? You're still a totally different person!"

"I am," he agreed quietly. "I'd never even heard of this villain until I went to their school. I have nothing to do with him!"

And that sounded maybe a little desperate. She wouldn't know of Apocalypse, of course, but there was still that part of him that needed to be certain that she was okay with him all the same.

So he wasn't letting go for a while.

"Course you don't," Sholeh soothed. "I hate it when people just decide that you're evil and no good and should be chased away or beaten up or worse just because they don't understand who and what you are and they think that you're something that you're not and it's awful!"

Sloooow down there, Sholeh. There might be some other issues leaking through there a bit, Evan. Sorry.

Yeah, even Evan was probably grasping that, a bit. He eased back, looking at her almost curiously for a moment.

"Right," he said, carefully. "But there isn't anybody here but good people."

"But bad people can still find you," Sholeh muttered, hiding behind her hair a little. "And people here can still find out your secrets. And maybe use them against you."

"I trust you wouldn't," Evan offered, still maybe a little mumbly. "And I know I wouldn't do it to anyone else, either."

You know. If someone hypothetically had any secrets, or anything.

Sure. Theoretically. And stuff.

"Can I ask what he did that was so bad? You don't have to tell me or anything. I'll understand."

Evan flushed a little more, squirming in his seat before turning the monitor to show her. Of course he still had the e-mail open. He needed to stare at it to remind himself that Quire was a jerk.

... Or something.

"It's stupid," he muttered. "I shouldn't be so upset about something so harmless."

Oh. Oh, that was definitely... Yeah, she could see where that could be a thing.

"It's not harmless," she chided gently. "He deliberately did that to hurt your feelings. You're allowed to be upset when someone deliberately sets out to upset you."

"I shouldn't have even opened it," Evan countered, though there really wasn't any fire in that. "I mean, he's... just being a jerk. But he kind of always is. This isn't anything new."

"Doesn't make it right," Sholeh argued. "If you came in and saw me this upset because someone was routinely nasty to me, would you be so willing to brush it off?"

"Of course not, no." Evan fidgeted a little, and the reached up and just closed the whole browser. It meant the e-mail was still going to be waiting for him in his inbox, yeah, but he just didn't want to deal with it right then. "I'd probably want to take a piece out of the person that hurt you," and oh, man, he could, "but this is just... I don't know. It feels different, when it's about me."

Some part of him wanted to take that hurt, internalize it, twist it around into hate and anger and power, and save it up to turn back on Quentin when Quire least expected it.

That part kind of scared him.

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Library, Thursday All Day

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