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"Is something wrong?" she asks, eventually, when the place is clear of other students within hearing distance. "Would you rather I read these someplace more private or something?"

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"No, no," he says. "Don't mind me."

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She goes on reading and notetaking (this notebook is clear of incriminating Slayer-related content), but she does pay peripheral attention to how he's observing her.

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In a word, confusedly.

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"Are you sure there isn't something wrong?" Bella asks. "Is it that surprising for the chief of police's daughter to move here and notice enough stuff to figure out that this town has peculiar and bitey contents? I mean, I've been here before, but only in the summertime, so his insistence on a sunset curfew wasn't nearly as suspicious back then."

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"Well," he says, "it's just you're the first person I've met here who acknowledged the paranormal and was not evil in some way." He adjusts his glasses. "You're not evil in some way, are you?"

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"I don't think I'm evil in some way. Is there a test for that?" Bella asks. "My dad isn't evil in some way either, and I'm pretty sure he knows something's up, although he hasn't tended to acknowledge it in so many words."

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"Yes, you keep mentioning him," Mr. Giles recalls.

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"He keeps being relevant. But yeah, I don't think I'm evil in some way. I cut a guy off in traffic the other day?" she offers dubiously.

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"I think I can let that slide," he says dryly.

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"Oh, good. So is there a big correlation here? Should I be worrying about you being evil in some way, since you acknowledge the same fact that makes me suspect?" she asks with a winning smile.

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He takes off his glasses and cleans them. Disapprovingly.

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"I don't think you're evil in some way," says Bella. "But seriously, how much of a correlation is this, is the world going to be forever mostly divided into people I can't be fully open with and people who might try to..." She glances at her book. "Sacrifice me to the Nameless Nine-Faced God?"

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"...Not... quite that drastically, perhaps," he says. "But yes."

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"That sucks," says Bella. "We should be friends so it sucks less."

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He opens his mouth.

He closes his mouth.

He cleans his glasses again.

"...I can't fault your logic," he says at last.
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"I am pretty good at logic," she says, adding a period to the end of a sentence in her notes that she'd earlier paused in writing. "Also, I can't help but thinking that even if they're really that dirty, your glasses would still do more net vision correction if they spent more time on your face."

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He laughs.
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She grins.

"Is suspecting that I'm evil in some way why you didn't give me anything on magic, or is it really just that dangerous? Why is it so dangerous? How does it work? I'm just asking theory, not practice," she adds before he can answer.
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He comes out of the little area behind the counter and leans against a railing near the table where she sits.

"It really is just that dangerous," he confirms. "It can open you up to all sorts of unpleasant influences."
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"Influences," she repeats. "Like... okay, now I'm imagining shoulder-devils whispering bad ideas in witches' ears. That's probably not what you meant."

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"No, but attracting the attention of powerful demons is not unheard-of. And some of them do have the power to corrupt an unwary mind."

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...Bella does not wish to explain to him why she thinks she'd be just fine against that particular threat.

"Yuck," she says. "It seems really counterintuitive for defenselessness to be a better idea, though. Like, what am I, a sardine? Schooling with a lot of other sardines trying not to be special and hoping the barracuda goes for the other sardines instead of me because I don't stand out?"
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"Well... yes," he says. "Although when you put it like that, I can see why you don't like the idea."

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"I don't really want the barracudas to get the other sardines either," Bella says. "I'd take a somewhat worse chance of getting eaten if it meant that life became unpleasant for local barracudas and my sardine friends were safer."

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