"Pain, but I won't let it turn into hate
No, I won't let it change me
Never losing sight of the one I keep inside..."

✧✧✧

Evelyn was in a good mood. She couldn't help it. In her last period class, she received a quiz she'd taken without even having her pencils organized in a lucky way, and she aced it. Evelyn was also still happy about Tristan's newfound level of friendliness, even if he still wasn't friendly or her friend, per se. Lastly, it was raining outside, the sound extremely soothing to her.

It was a good day, and she was in a good mood.

She noticed, right away, however, that that wasn't the case for Tristan, and unfortunately, like gravity, his bad mood brought her down. The first thing that put a damper on her good mood was worry. Evelyn had expected Tristan to walk through the doors at 3:45, the way he did nearly every day. It was his routine, save for the occasional Friday in which he didn't show up, but he didn't enter until 5:07. She checked the clock.

Further straying from his routine, he walked right to the muffin and coffee a volunteer left out for him each day and dumped it right in the trash, before going up the library steps, instead of staying on the ground floor like he always did.

Evelyn furrowed her eyebrows as she watched him go up, his white sweatshirt looking like it was speckled with gray from the drops of rain darkening the color of it. She began to tug on her bottom lip rapidly.

Evelyn glanced over at Rose then back up the stairs, torn between going up to see if Tristan was okay or staying down, near the reference desk, where she always stayed when she volunteered. He wanted to be left alone, most likely, and she really didn't want to go up, but she felt a stirring in her gut that incited a need to check on him.

She let out a frustrated sigh and adjusted her glasses, before walking over to Rose.

"Rose?" Evelyn asked quietly.

"Yes, Evie?" she replied, smiling at her.

"I know I'm supposed to stay down here, but may I go upstairs?" she asked, adjusting her glasses. Rose's eyes flitted to the action immediately, not missing it.

"It's to check on that boy, isn't it?" she said in a hushed tone.

Evelyn hesitated before she nodded.

"Go right ahead," she said in a kind tone. "But don't overwhelm yourself."

Evelyn didn't reply with words, only nodded once and adjusted her glasses. She couldn't stop herself from skipping the first step of each flight of steps so she only had to walk up nine stairs, and then another nine, instead of ten. Ten wasn't a good number.

As soon as she arrived upstairs, she felt a bit overwhelmed at the state of disarray the books were in on the upper level of the library. The books were not thrown around carelessly or in poor condition, but there was no order to how they were organized. In the downstairs level, it was like each shelf flowed smoothly into the next, sci-fi giving way to fantasy, giving way to romance, giving way to popular young adult novels. Upstairs, classics turned into self-help books, which turned into memoirs, which turned into children's books, which turned into DVDs.

Evelyn brought her hands together, rapidly rubbing her right thumb against her left palm in a nervous habit, sure to count 1, 2, 3, over and over again.

She shook her head, hoping to erase her thoughts as she walked over to where Tristan was sitting, continuing the comforting counting taking place in her head. He was rapidly writing in a small, leather journal, she realized.

"I just can't get rid of you, can I?" Tristan said with a bitter laugh when Evelyn walked up to him, only sparing her a brief glance. The harsh tone behind his words made her frown, the last remnants of her good mood disappearing.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"Peachy," he said, continuing to write whatever it was he was writing. Perhaps he was writing a hit list with her name at the very top, she thought, the thought making her snort slightly.

Tristan looked up at her, a look of detest fiercer than she'd seen before in his eyes.

"Is something funny?" he said through gritted teeth, looking into her eyes.

The second he looked at her was when she registered his face.

"Jesus, what happened?" she asked, her eyebrows creasing in worry as she stepped even closer to him, reaching a hand towards him. She'd barely reached her hand up when he flinched backwards, his eyes flashing from dislike to panic for a moment. She dropped her hand immediately and took a step back to give him space. She hadn't meant to scare him.

He slammed the cover of his notebook closed, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath before opening them and standing up abruptly, causing Evelyn to take another small step back. Her being as close as she was to him was much different when he was sitting and she was standing, rather than with him standing, as he towered over.

"Look," he started, before pausing, an expression of slight confusion coming across his face, as if he were searching his brain. "What's your name?"

A small, irrational part of Evelyn was hurt that he didn't know her name, despite them knowing each other for so long and being in some of the same classes, even if they weren't the best of friends.

"Evelyn," she said quietly.

"Figures," he said with another bitter laugh, nothing humorous or happy about the sound. "Of course you'd have a name that makes you sound like a fucking eighty year old."

Evelyn frowned, looking down to focus on her light blue converse instead of the irrational hurt that insult caused. Her name was something she loved and he insulted it so easily.

"Anyway, get it through your thick skull that going to the same school and you forcing your company on me does not make us friends or you entitled to know anything about me. And this fake nice shit isn't cute. Frankly, it's tiring. I know damn well you got a lot of insults you want to throw at me, so let me have it, sweetheart," he said, his tone malicious the entire way through, becoming extra condescending on the word 'sweetheart'.

Evelyn was briefly reminded of the quote from Jane Eyre, about how Jane would be no angel, she'd be herself. And, in this instance, Evelyn would be no devil and allow hate to come from provocation. She'd be herself.

Finally, she looked up from her shoes. Her vision was slightly blurry from the tears that gathered in her eyes, but not blurry enough to make her unaware of the expression of guilt on his face when he saw her tears. Some part of her was embarrassed at her sensitivity, but not embarrassed enough to make her back down from eye contact.

"No, actually. I don't have a lot of insults. Or any, really. If anything, I just feel sorry that instead of breaking the cycle of pain started by whoever inflicted that pain on you," she said, gesturing towards the bruise on his eye. "You choose to continue it, even if not in the same way."

"There's a café connected to the library downstairs. If you ask Rose, I'm sure she'll give you something to ice your face," she said quietly, not looking at Tristan as she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Wait," she heard him say, but she didn't acknowledge it, instead she went down the stairs, not even bothering to skip her usual step, reaching the bottom quickly and leaving the library, despite usually staying and volunteering until closing time.

She took a deep breath as soon as she got outside. She let the rain wash over her, finding the sound and feeling of it comforting.

After all, it was the only part of the day that was still good.