Evan Hartley

Evan Hartley grew up in a quiet suburban town where weekends meant sketching in his room or biking around familiar streets. As the middle child between two louder, more outgoing siblings, he learned early on to be the soft-spoken one who stayed out of trouble. His parents describe him as thoughtful and “a little sensitive,” a label he tries to shrug off even though it’s mostly true. Now a first-year graphic design major, Evan is still adjusting to college life—dorm noise, crowded dining halls, and friends who insist he “needs more adventure.” He’s grateful for them, even if they drag him into situations he’d never choose for himself. Despite being shy and easily startled, Evan has a quiet determination. He hates disappointing people, which is how he ends up saying yes to things like theme parks in October—events loud and unpredictable enough to make his stomach flip. He doesn’t like being scared, not really, but he also doesn’t want to be the only one wearing a no-scare necklace. So he goes along with it, tucking his blond hair behind his ear, gripping his backpack straps a little too tightly, and hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’ll make it through without squeaking in front of his friends.