ғɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ - 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬

012. evan

Evan walked stiffly down the narrow halls, maneuvering through the crowds of students. He ducked his head down, avoiding making any form of physical contact. Walking sideways past a couple of his peers, Evan was careful not to bump into them.

As he focused on maintaining his distance, Evan tripped over someone's legs. He yelped, stumbled forwards, and took a few quick steps to regain his balance. Hearing an "Oh shit!" behind him, Evan whipped his head around to see the apologetic face of a boy sitting against the wall.

"Sorry, man," the boy said. "Completely my bad."

"Uh, no worries," Evan stammered. The boy nodded in response. Evan swallowed, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

God, that kid probably hated Evan's guts.

Evan sighed deeply, hanging his head low and shutting his eyes. When he looked up, Evan's gaze landed on the infamous Jared Kleinman. Jared Kleinman, who was clutching his stomach and cackling while pointing at Evan. Here we go.

Evan made his way towards Jared, whose laughter only became louder as Evan walked closer.

"So tell me," Jared wheezed, "did you really just trip over that guy's legs or are you just trying to break both your arms at this point?"

Evan started, "Well, ah, no, I—"

"Jesus, Evan! I haven't laughed that hard since you had to introduce that powerpoint, and all that came out was," Jared made his voice deeper and stupider, "w-wuh, ah, u-uh, um... And that was yesterday!"

Evan gripped the straps of his backpack so hard his knuckles turned white. His stomach churned in a way that made a sick feeling crawl up his throat, but in defeat, Evan released the grip on his straps, pressing his lips into a firm, thin line. He dropped his gaze to the ground, hiding the uneasiness in his eyes—not that Jared couldn't sense it from his posture, anyway.

Perhaps Jared had decided to give Evan a small break. 

He called out tauntingly, "Look what the cat dragged in!"

Evan glanced up to see a scrawny—yet intimidating—kid he's seen around but never caught the name of. The kid definitely had a theme going, and Evan wasn't sure if the dark blotches under his eyes were eyeliner or eye bags. He wasn't quite like the "aesthetic emos" on Instagram, but at the same time, he seemed to fit under that category. The main difference was that his long, unkept hair looked like it hadn't been washed in days; his overall appearance was—to put it simply—messy. Not put together at all. At least the emos on Instagram looked elegantly tragic.

He was scary, to put it simply.

"Hey, you think he uses cooking oil as shampoo or none at all?" Jared laughed a little too loud.

The boy, clad in a wrinkled, black jean jacket; black skinny jeans; and large, muddy black boots that helped build his height, turned his head and shot a nasty glare in Jared's direction. It wasn't surprising that the only non-black thing he wore was the brown messenger bag swung across his shoulder.

The boy took a few steps forward, as if challenging Jared, but kept a reasonable distance between them.

Evan wanted nothing more but to shrink away into the shadows. He was standing close enough to Jared that anyone could assume they were friends, but in that very moment, Evan wished he wasn't associated with Jared at all.

He wanted to walk away, to run, to get out of there—but his feet remained glued to the floor.

"You were saying something?" the boy spat coldly. His stare was ice.

Jared opened his mouth, ready to say something, but no words came out. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"Well?"

Jared quickly composed himself, but his voice was cautious. "...It was a joke."

"Oh," the boy gasped in faux surprise, "it was a joke. Yeah, hah, it was hilarious." The venom hiding beneath his fake tone revealed itself. "Am I not laughing hard enough for you?"

Having too much pride to back down now, Jared glared at the boy in disgust, shaking his head. "You're such a freak," he scoffed as he walked away.

Now Evan was all alone with the kid. Well, there were people around, but they didn't seem to notice that they were there. It was as if no matter how loud Evan tried to shout, nobody could ever hear him.

Maybe it was the nerves taking over him. Maybe it was the adrenaline building up ever since earlier that morning. Or maybe it was the fact that an incredibly frightening kid was standing five feet away from him. Evan wasn't entirely sure why he did it, but he gave a quiet chuckle. Not one out of spite, of course, but a shaky, anxious one he couldn't help letting out.

Despite the quietness of Evan's laugh, the boy managed to hear him.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" the boy spat.

Evan was cut off guard. "What?"

"Stop fucking laughing at me."

"No, no, I'm not—"

"You think I'm the freak?"

"N-no, I just—I don't—"

"I'm not the freak!"

"No, I wasn't laughing—" That was a lie.

"YOU'RE THE FUCKING FREAK!"

Before Evan knew it, the boy was four feet away. Then three. Then two. Then one. His hands grabbed Evan's shirt roughly, and suddenly, Evan was on the ground. And the boy was storming away. And Evan wanted to cry.

And still, nobody saw.

—

evan: have you ever had a dream that you, um, you had, your, you- you could, you'll do, you- you wants, you, you could do so, you- you'll do, you could- you, you want, you want them to do you so much you could do anything?

evan: :)

aghh i'm going to try to update more often i'm sorry