I know. [ Chekov says, softly. There were some crewmates like that, back on the Enterprise, but the worst of the outright teasing was at Starfleet Academy. The other students were pettier there and more upfront with their mockery. Now, it happens more behind Chekov's back, and as long as he focuses on the work he loves, he tells himself, their words cannot touch him.

Chekov doesn't really want to focus on that right now, anyway -- those things were said and done, and obvious. What he's more curious about is how this boy knows that at all. ]

How are you so certain?

[ Chekov takes the flower anyway, smiling gently. It's a nice gesture. Whoever this kid his, he's obviously very sweet, and that puts Chekov more at ease than he ordinarily would be towards a stranger who knows so much of his personal life. ]

There is no flower addressed to me. I'm sorry. I think these are for your friends, and I don't want to take their flowers.

[ But surely, this kid knows that, unless -- ]

Can you read? [ Chekov asks, purely curious and caring. There's no judgement here. ]