To be completely honest, Evan admired and envied that kind of carefree lifestyle. Looting for yourself and those you cared about, and fuck everyone else? He wished he could do that, and sometimes he did. He found books for George—there was one time he'd gone on a supply raid and came back with nothing but books for George, actually—or art supplies for himself and Danny… but it hadn't gone over well with those in charge, so now he had to be far sneakier when he did things like that. Like the occasional pack of smokes or an extra, secret bottle of booze that he could easily hide. His days of clever looting like what Leah and this girl did were long over. "Must be nice," was all he said, though his tone held obvious resentment.
He shrugged when she said that she would take it, offering it out and sliding his hand back into his pocket. Evan shouldered his bag and looked around the apartment. "You did pick this place petty clean," he repeated, wandering over to a nearby bookshelf to see what was left. Maybe something for George… or something for himself. He was getting tired of the same old books, anyway. "I can see a few things you missed though."
Initially, he'd been attracted to this shelf because he'd seen a couple of double A batteries (though he wasn't sure if they had juice in them), but now he saw something else, too. He smiled. Laying unobtrusively on the shelf was a copy of his favorite book growing up—the Gift of the Magi—and plucked it off the shelf, along with the batteries. He didn't need it, but it would be nice to have, maybe to give to someone who could get proper entertainment out of it. He heard the girl speak again and turned around.
Wandering over to her when she introduced herself, Evan extended his hand to shake hers. "Evan," he introduced himself. "You get to the kitchen yet?"