Evan laughed again, coldly. "I have changed, John. In ways you have no idea about," he said with a smirk, "And not in all good ways." He had no shame that he'd grown more angry and bitter than John remembered. In fact, he was sure he was a lot more dangerous than John would remember or think. There were lines he once wouldn't have crossed that he did now without thought or regret. Lines that had once been drawn in the sand for them had been erased by the hand of time, the game changing, and the group evolving without John as a part of it.
"No, you acting like you care when you don't is pathetic. Rather than admitting you don't, you pretend. It's sick, John. You have more problems than I ever knew," he said, "And either way, you're pathetic. So is she for that matter, fucking you at all."
"It's not pathetic. It's not like she's not already begging for it. All I need to go is get her alone. I wonder what she'd taste like, feel like... Frigid, cold or warm and needy. Or if she'd say my name next time you fuck her," he said, trying to goad him. He was trying hard, but it seemed like John wasn't buying it. "Maybe I just won't wait for her permission and teach her a lesson instead."