Chapter Text
The first time I met Jean Kirschtein was a total accident and he, being Jean Kirschtein was a total ass about it.
It was because the two of us were late, and I guess the whole thing was kind of -well actually- it was really my fault.
I had completely forgot to set an alarm on my phone which was undeniably stupid because I should have known that mom was going to try and baby me around before I could even attempt to leave for school. She had made me breakfast, put all my school supplies into my bag and she had even picked out a pair of clothes for me. Which, yes, I did wear but swapped out the plain grey sweater she had picked for my Adventure Time hoodie.
I had totally overpaid for that thing and fully intended to wear it until I lay on my death bed in seventy years. I didn't care if half of my grade thought it was dorky; that hoodie was awesome.
Mom was just trying to be helpful, which I acknowledged but I was eighteen years old, not four. When I came downstairs I made sure to give her a kiss on the cheek and thank her for her help even though we both knew that I really, really didn't need it.
I knew how nervous she was. It was a mutual feeling but it was pitiful really.
When I managed to finally push her out the door to drive me to school it was 8:25. It was set in stone that I was going to be late. The drive there took at least ten minutes and my homeroom started at 8:30 this year and despite the anxious feeling stirring inside my stomach; I decided not to dwell on that. As I made my way to the across our short lane way, I became preoccupied with trying to dig my schedule out of my bag without dexterity. In my ardent attempt, I spun around myself in circles; trying to reach into the contents of my bag. I suppose I perhaps looked like a wired dog trying to catch it's tail or a dizzy ballerina finishing a lousy routine. Clumsily, I bumped into the bumper of the rust bucket we called a car and it in turn let out a creaking noise in protest. I skittishly looked around to make sure none of our relatively new neighbours had seen my embarrassing mishap before I danced around the car and swung myself into the passenger seat.
I made myself comfortable in the fabric torn seat and examined the time slot that held my homeroom as I absent-mindedly rubbed the polyester fabric filling of the seat between my fingers. I had World Politics first period with Mr. E. Smith. I had never had him as a teacher before but I was sure he would understand my lateness after a good enough explanation.
If he didn't I could always just talk to him after class.
Mom was eerily silent as we drove so instead of trying to make conversation, I decided to lean my head against the window panel and shut my eyes in an attempt enjoy the silence and cruise along to the feeling of new spring. I wanted the summer back. I didn't hate first days like mom did, but god they were awful.
A million eyes just.. watching. Following me about with every single step I took with looks of absolute loathing. First days of anything for me were stare fests. The freshmen, the new kids, everyone just wanted to get a good ol' look at me.
It wasn't like they hadn't heard of amputees before -people in this town, they weren't stupid- but most of them, they'd never thought they would go to school with one. I hated walking down the halls and hearing people whisper and ask each other if they knew what happened to the one armed kid. I felt like I needed a shirt with a bunch of crabs on it that said: Cancer bit off my arm.
Zodiac crabs, not STD crabs. I didn't want STDS to bite off my anything.
“You're still hanging out with your friends right?” Mom asked softly, not taking her eyes off the road to look at me.
I opened my eyes, pushing my thoughts to the back of my mind and smiled at her. “Yeah, of course. In fact, Sasha asked me if I wanted to go see a movie with her on Saturday.”
She perked immediately and looked over at me. “Like a date?”
I leaned my head back against the headrest and laughed as I averted my eyes to look at the stained ceiling. “Nah, she's had a thing for Connie since middle school. You know that.”
She nodded but I could feel her disappointment swirling around in the air between us like thick rain clouds. “Are you going to go?” she wondered out loud as she readjusted her rear view mirror.
“I'm thinking about it.” I told her honestly “Probably not though.”
“You need to get out of the house more Marco, you barely saw any of your friends this summer.”
“Lies,” I declared in a fake, pompous voice. “I worked with Armin and Connie at camp in Sina all summer and in doing which saw Sasha, Eren and Mikasa almost every day.”
“You know what I mean Marco.”
I let my pompous voice drop with a sigh. “Mom, I like staying home. Going out just isn't my thing. It's, well, it's uncomfortable.”
She let out a long sigh, mimicking mine, and turned her eyes back to the road. “Okay.”
We drove the rest of the way to the school in silence. I did feel a little bit guilty because she was right. The amount of time I spent at home was unhealthy and as much as I loved my friends, I hardly ever agreed to any outings that they invited me to. I didn't like new things, I liked to stay home. Being at home was familiar and safe and full of things I could do without the embarrassing two-armed help of friends and strangers, even if mom liked to lend me a hand when I didn't need it.
Mom pulled into the school parking lot and sent me a small, weak smile. “Right, well.. have a good day Marco.”
I leaned over and kissed her cheek as I unbuckled my seat belt and reached uncomfortably over myself to open the door. “I will, I promise. I love you.” I informed her as I shuffled awkwardly out of the small vehicle.
After almost hitting my head on the low roof, I took a step back from the car, grinned and gave her a thumbs up. She frowned but waved before she drove away. I watched her drive away, which I guess wasn't the smartest choice to make with time being a prominent factor this morning but I watched anyway. I shook my head and tore my eyes away from the road.
I dug out my schedule from my bag once again as I jogged in the main doors and looked at the homeroom number. 302. It was a good thing stairs were my favourite thing in existence because I would be doing all three flights of them first thing in the morning everyday for the rest of my school career. I felt myself roll my eyes absent-mindedly and I stuffed the schedule back into my bag. My jog slowed down to a fast walk, I just had to turn the corner get to the stairwell and then-
Someone else turned the corner.
“OUFF!” I exclaimed and flew backward before hitting the ground.
“FUCK!” The other person yelled echoing my exclamation.
Oh god.
I looked up from my seat on the ground in a panic to find another boy at eye level who had also fallen over due to our collision.
“Dude, what the fuck?!” He shouted. The sound echoed in the hall making me cringe back in surprise. He looked angrily down at the ground and I noticed then that unlike me he had been carrying his books and it was completely my fault that they were now all over the floor.
“Oh god, oh god I am so sorry!” I professed empathetically as I rushed to my feet and over to help him. I didn't think I'd ever seen him before so he must have been new. I was such an ass knocking a new kid on his ass on his first day. “It was an accident, god oh, I'm so sorry!” I picked up one of his books that had flew toward my feet and tried to hand it to him without looking him in the eyes. “I wasn't watching where I was going I mean I should have-”
I stopped talking abruptly as I noticed the walking stick laying beside his hands. He looked up at me or rather in my general direction and I drew back. My mouth fell open.
Kudos to me for knocking over a blind kid.
“Oh my fucking god, stop staring!” he snapped at me yanking his textbook from my hand, throwing a wrench in my thoughts. I shut my mouth as if it would help and averted my eyes. “I wasn't-”
“Don't even fucking try.” he hissed out as he felt around the ground for the rest of his books.
I bent back over without a word and scoped up a notebook that had fallen out of his reach and handed it to him. “I really am sorry, are you okay?” I asked trying my hardest to calm the rage that was coming off of him in waves.
“Peachy.” He replied shortly, his sarcasm making me cringe into myself once again. He shoved his books into his bag with over exaggerated force and grabbed his stick before racing up on to his feet.
I noted to myself that even though he was shorter than I was by a few inches and blind, he sure as hell didn't look like someone who's bad side I would want to be on. The black jacket he was wearing- which had the words BEEN TO HELL in huge font spilled across the front- was at least three sizes too big and sagged off of his shoulders due to his lean build. His skinny jeans on the other hand, hung so tight against his legs and his backside, that I probably could have calculated the slope of his ass using ninth grade math equations. “Are you still staring at me?” he asked rather harshly.
I let out a small awkward laugh and tried to look past his nose, lip and ears which were all covered in different sorts of piercings. “I was just,” I paused, trying to think of something to say. “I just like your hair is all.”
He touched it self consciously and I swore I saw a slight flush creep across his cheeks .His hair was definitely different from what I was used to seeing. A blond tuft of lay on the top of his head while the bottom was an styled into an ombre undercut. I really did like it though, it suited him.
Due to his blush, his mean facade was let down for just a second. I smiled at him out of habit. Without him looking like he was deciding where to toss my body after he murdered me, I decided that now was probably a good time to apologize again. “I really am sorry I knocked you down, I'll catch you lat-” I started to say as I begun to walk forward.
“Wait.” He demanded loudly and he reached for me but because of my lack of arm, he grabbed the air instead. He looked horribly confused to a point where it was almost comical. I opened my mouth to tell him about my arm but stopped myself. I mean, for the first time in my life I didn't have to explain my disability. He didn't know what I looked like, he couldn't see my lack of limbs and he was probably the first person to actually get mad at me to my face since I lost my arm.
Now, I don't mean to be sadistic but it was nice.
“Yeah?” I asked turning to face him again.
“Could you show me where the elevator is?” he mumbled under his breath. “I can't find it.”I stared at him and raised an eyebrow at him. His cheeks were red and it almost looked like he was suffocating himself by asking for help. I'd never seen someone looking that distressed over something as small as asking for directions.
I thought about the time but pushed that thought to the back of my mind. He was blind and wandering around the school, not to mention I had just knocked him over. I kind of owed him. “Sure, I can.” I told him lightly and I grabbed for his right sleeve so I could walk beside him.
The elevator was in the general direction of the stairwell I wanted to go up anyway.
It took me a minute to realize that he was glaring down at where my hand was holding his sleeve in complete distaste. I made a mental note not to do it again and let go.
When we got to the elevator, he took the key from around his neck and started to feel the wall for the slot to turn it on with. I guided his hand slightly, but not so much that he could give me a hard time for. The door opened with a loud ping and he got on. He wordlessly held his hand against the door to keep it from closing. “Well,” he told me, irritation clearly etched into his voice after he held the door for more than a couple seconds. “get on.”
I held up my hand and stepped backward. “You don't have to-”
“Get on the goddamn elevator.” He demanded. I didn't want to make him angry again so I shuffled on to the platform beside him. He grinned to himself. “I scare you.” he stated as he felt around for the buttons to take us upward.
He most definitely pressed the button with a lot more force than needed and I shifted away from him slightly. I sighed, at least we were heading to the third floor.
“I don't mean to be rude but, shouldn't you have someone helping you around on your first day?” I said out loud even though I probably shouldn't have.
He paused for a moment, nodded and said with complete confidence. “Yep, got ditched.”
I felt a pang of sympathy for him. “Oh.”
“Mhmm.” he said biting at his lip, to what I guess meant he was caught in his own thoughts.
Silence.
“I'm Marco.” I stated, breaking the silence. “Marco Bodt.”
“Jean.” he told me, without looking over. I guess it really didn't matter if he looked over or not, it was all the same sight to him. Jean didn't seem to like making small talk so I let myself fall back into the silence he had originally created.
The doors pinged again and we both stepped off in perfect sync. “Now,” Jean hummed under his breath to himself and not to me. “Which way to 302?”
“World Politics?” I asked him a little surprised. “With Mr. Smith?”
He didn't seem the least bit surprised that I knew what class it was, he just smirked. It was the kind of smug smirk that makes you want to back hand someone because with the stupid look on their face, they look like they know the secrets to the universe. Jean spoke with the same amount of sass that was in his smirk. “That's the one. Tell me Marco, do we happen to be in the same homeroom?”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on,” I uttered as I fell in stride beside him. “You're pretty lucky I ran into you.” I stated.
I saw him smirk again from the corner of my eye. “Quite literally so.”
So Jean had two emotions, smug and angry. Brilliant.
We made our way down the hall but Jean seemed to be in no particular hurry so we didn't get to our the class as quickly as I would have hoped. I didn't really mind though because when I took a minute to glance over at him, the sight made me want to burst into a fit of giggles. He was practically strolling down the hall like a duke from 18th century France. Pierced, BEEN TO HELL boy Jean, dressed in a damper suit and top hat. I would pay to see that sight.
I lay my hand against the door when we finally arrived at room 302. This wasn't going to be fun by any means. “So are you going to fucking knock or am I going to kick the door?” Jean snapped beside me.
“Just wait a-”
A loud bang echoed through the hall as his foot made contact with the door.
I stared at him incredulously and he must have sensed it because he shrugged. “I did ask you first.” he said blandly.
I was about to say something back when the door flew open to reveal a large man with the biggest eyebrows I have ever seen in my entire life. I caught a glimpse at the clock behind him, 8:58.
Shit.
“Kirschtein and Bodt?” he asked us both.
I half expected Jean to make a stupid comment but he stayed completely silent. I realized that he had inched away from being beside me to almost behind me.
I nodded for the both of us, seeing that he wasn't going to say anything. “Yeah, sorry we're late we had an incident downstairs.” I told him as I began to notice that every single pair of eyes in the entire classroom were focused on the two of us. Most eyes were widened, and some were whispering to their friends. I knew most of them though so I knew they weren't discussing me. Something told me they were a little more interested in the guy who was trying to hide behind me. Out of the corner of my eye though, I saw Bertholdt sitting with Reiner the desks in front of what I guessed was a typewriter and Armin and Sasha in front of them. Sasha and Reiner were waving at me excitedly and Armin was trying to calm them down. I sent them a small wave back.
Mr. Smith looked at us and sighed. “Mr. Kirschtein, your typewriter is set up at the desk at the back Mr. Bodt, just sit wherever there's space.”
He let us into the classroom and before I sat I realized that Jean had no idea where he was headed and for a split second he looked absolutely terrified. I nudged his arm with mine. “Come on.” I said a little more gentility this time to which he nodded enthusiastically.
I walked with him over to the two back desks and sat down beside him, which I think surprised him more than anything. His braille typewriter was on the desk on the right, so I sat to the left of him.
It almost looked like Jean was going to thank me but the second I sat down at my desk Reiner turned around and grinned. “We thought you were ditching.” he said blatantly.
Jean shut his mouth quietly and turned to his bag to pull out his books.
I let my gaze linger on Jean for another second who was now preoccupied with handling his textbooks. I sighed, so much for a thank you.
“Reiner thought you were ditching,” Sasha corrected. “Bertholdt and Armin and I know you are too nice a person for that life. I mean can you imagine Marco Bodt, the living embodiment of Jesus, living on the edge and skipping the first day?”
That made me blush and hide my face in my hand. “I'm not the living embodiment of Jesus.” I mumbled.
“Yeah, shove off Sasha.” Reiner said through another huge grin. “Even Jesus had wine once and a while.”
“You'd know since that's the only thing you can get drunk off of.” Bertl mumbled under his breath and Sasha snorted and hit Bertholdt on the back before throwing her head back to laugh. I laughed at his surprised face behind my hand. Mr. Smith looked over at us from the papers he held in his hands with an unamused gaze.
I flushed again and ducked my head back down. Mr. Smith cleared his throat and began to walk around the room handing out little slips of paper which held codes on them. “These are your locker numbers.” he told us. “You can drop off your belongings there after class. ”
He walked up and down the rows, handing out slips of paper. Sasha and Bertholdt had lockers beside one another, and upon hearing the news, Sasha insisted on Bertholdt giving her a high five. He looked uncomfortable but returned the gesture anyway.
Ever since I met him, he had always seemed to be uncomfortable around anyone unless they were Reiner or Annie. It had always been that way so it didn't bug anyone as much as it used to and Reiner obviously didn't mind. He adored the attention his boyfriend was constantly giving him.
Reiner whined and asked Sasha if she wanted to trade with him, to which she gave him a no, and told him that he had to learn to share Bertholdt with everyone.
Toward the end of their conversation, Bertholdt was as red as a tomato.
Armin grinned when he saw our lockers were almost beside one another. See, I liked Armin, he was probably my closest friend out of my entire friend group. He didn't feel the constant need to be talking 24/7 like Reiner, Sasha or Connie. We could hang out and just read if we wanted to. I could tell him anything and he gave honest opinion.
I came out of my thoughts when I noticed that Jean was holding his slip of paper tightly in his hands and was scowling down at it. I looked over his shoulder and told him the numbers quietly, so no one else could hear. “I can show you where it is if you want.” I told him.
“Are you this nice to everyone or am I just blind?” he snarled at me, loudly, drawing the others attention back over to us.
Armin looked over at me and gave me a small, encouraging smile before he brought himself into the conversation. “Yeah, that's Marco for you.” he said trying to pull some of Jean's snotty attitude off of me.
“Too nice for his own good.” Reiner chimed in, sending me a wink. “Though maybe since he hasn't even introduced his new friend, we've misjudged him. Maybe our Marco is loosing his spark.”
I flushed. “Sorry, sorry!” I squeaked out which made Reiner laugh obnoxiously. “Everyone this is Jean. Jean this is Reiner, Bertl, Sasha and Armin.”
The four of them let out a chorus of enthusiastic heys just to have Jean let out a small and grumpy sounding 'hi' in return before he turned back to his text book. Reiner raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. From what I had gathered about Jean, that was just how he was. Rude, arrogant and maybe even a little bit shy.
Mr. Smith cleared his throat, calling everyone's attention to the power point on the smart board. Armin flashed me another small smile before the four of them turned around to focus on the board. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Bertholdt and Reiner were holding hands under the desk. I was the only one in the room that could possibly catch a glimpse at their intertwined hands so I guess they didn't care if I could see or not.
I switched my attention to the power point and rested my head on my hand. It didn't seem to be very important, just the guidelines of what we were going to learn and how he marked assignments and tests. He told us right before he started talking that he wouldn't be giving us this note, so we should copy it down for ourselves. I sighed and lifted my head from my palm and reached into my backpack to pull out a notebook and pen.
Some things I gathered about Mr. Erwin Smith by listening to him drone on was that a) he was bored with his teaching job b) he didn't really seem to care if we were going to pass his class or not and c) he had way too many pictures and thought too highly of guidance counsellor Levi Ackerman.
After almost an entire class of listening to his bored and unexcited voice I realized that the words I had been writing down on the page had turned into doodles of stars and smiley faces. I sighed. It was the first day and I was already bored out of my mind. I leaned back in my seat, distraught. This must be a personal record.
I let my eyes wander from my paper to look over at my friends. Armin was completely focused on taking down notes, which didn't surprise me because if anyone out of the five of us needed this course, it was him since he actually wanted to work for the government.
Sasha had her head not-too-discretely on the desk which was a even less of a surprise than Armin being focused. I was nearly positive that she had only been put in the class because the Gym course she wanted to take was full.
I glanced over at Reiner and Bertholdt who appeared to be playing tick tac toe in the margins of Reiner's notebook. Bertholdt looked a little distressed. I knew he wanted to be paying attention by the looks of angst he was sending to Reiner. He had told me when we signed up for our courses that he wanted to take World Politics because his dad could get him a job in politics if he got high enough grades. Of course Reiner had signed up too since he had no idea what he wanted to do except spend time with Bertl.
My eyes soon found themselves on the grumpy boy sitting beside me. He obviously wasn't taking down notes. His typewriter was untouched and his arms were tightly crossed over his chest. His eyebrows were knit and his lips were pursed, I couldn't really tell if he was listening to Erwin talk or if he was daydreaming in his own little world where everything was as cranky as him.
The thought of cranky, munchkin sized Jeans with squeaky, annoying voices made me grin widely like an idiot.
I only realized that I was grinning when Erwin stopped talking and sent me a questioning look by raising his massive eyebrows. I shrugged. Colour pumped into my cheeks and gave him a small embarrassed smile before ducking my face back down to look at my star filled notebook. Reiner chuckled under his breath and reached back over the desks to ruffle my hair. “Calm down Freckled Jesus,” he told me lightly. “you look like you're going to explode.”
I opened my mouth to say something back but the bell sounding over the PA cut me off before I could get very far into my sentence. Half a second must have passed before Sasha and Reiner were on their feet with their bags in their hands. Bertholdt sighed and went to pile his books into his bag but Reiner grabbed them for him and insisted on carrying them. Bertholdt complied and sent us all a small wave as Reiner practically dragged him out of the room at a run after yelling out a loud 'later' to the rest of us. Sasha followed them quickly muttering something about Reiner heading out to steal her locker.
Armin laughed after them and pulled his bag over his shoulder then turned to me. “I'm in class with Mikasa, Annie and Connie next period I'll text you where we're going to meet up for lunch, do you have your phone with you?” he asked me.
I patted my jeans pocket where my out of date Samsung phone was hidden and gave him a smile. “Yep.”
He nodded with a smile plastered on to his face. “Alright, I'll see you at lunch then, have fun next period Marco!”
“Bye!”I laughed after him. Only he would be able to sincerely tell someone to have fun while they headed off to their next class. He looked over his shoulder and sent me a wave as he jogged out of the room.
I zipped my bag shut and threw it over my shoulder with an awkward arm movement almost hitting Jean who I realized was still sitting down in his seat. He was wringing his hands and biting his lip slightly, with his eyes planted on his lap. The class was almost empty now apart from a two girls talking to Erwin, I let out an exasperated sigh and tugged on the hood of his coat. He obviously didn't want my help but he had no idea where he was going since his guide had ditched him. He was way too proud to bring up my offer to let me show him where his locker was but I was going to take him anyway. Since his assigned guide was an apparent asshole, I would take up the role myself. At least for today.
I took in a long deep breath. “Jean?” I asked.
His head jerked up to my direction, his eyes wide and eyebrows shot up almost into his hairline. “Yeah, what?”
"We're going to be late for our next periods if we don't head to our lockers soon and I'm really excited for my Writer's Craft class so grab your stuff and let's go.”
He stared in sudden surprise at where I was standing for a split second before he neutralized his expression and shuffled to his feet. “Yeah, you're right.” he said with a sharp nod. He grabbed his walking stick which was leaning against his desk and swung his bag on to his back with more agility than I've ever had, even before loosing a limb.
I didn't press the conversation on further as we exited the room together. As we walked down the hall to where our class' lockers were I felt him press a small piece paper into my hand, I looked down to see the slip of paper that held his locker number. I glanced over at him but I didn't say anything. At least he was admitting to himself that he did need a little bit of help.
He was walking extremely close to me, so close that his shoulder was brushing against mine every second step we took which was the slightest bit uncomfortable. He didn't look like he wanted to discuss it though so once again, I didn't say anything. His eyebrows were knit tightly as if he was deeply focused and he cringed every time he touched someone that wasn't me as if they broke hid focus just by passing by him. I looked down at him in slight concern and noticed as I took in a deep breath to say something, that he smelt like a weird mix of smoke and chocolate.
Shaking myself out of the weird thought, I wondered if maybe I should take his sleeve but dismissed the idea after reflecting back on this morning.
I found myself wishing I actually knew what to do.
Sadly, the only answer that came to mind was 42.
His locker was at the end of the hall, almost on the corner. “Here it is.” I hummed, knocking lightly against the metal with my knuckles.
His hands fell against it and he pulled it open. “Twenty-six.” he murmured to himself.
I raised an eyebrow and looked down at him in confusion. “Sorry?”
“The locker is twenty-six steps from the classroom.” he told me in a matter of fact tone as he unzipped his bag and placed a notebook on one of his locker shelves after feeling the cover.
I nodded in understanding and looked down at my own locker number. I quickly crumpled up the piece of paper and shoved it into my back pocket. We were going to be late at our second period classes if I stopped at my locker. I decided against even bringing up the fact that I hadn't dropped off my stuff. Jean straightened out and sent a little smirk in my direction. I guessed that meant he was ready to go.
The amount of people in the hallway had gone down significantly and he seemed to be more in his element as he shut the locker and started to waltz down the hall. I jogged after him after sending a gigantic eye roll to the back of his head. “So what's your next class?” I asked him.
“Music, room 103 with Miss. Petra Ral.” he said before stopping and biting his lip. “The elevator is this way right?” he said throwing his arm out wildly to point to the right.
I groaned internally. My class was up on the third floor, I'd have to run all the way down with him to his class and then run all the way back up to get to mine. “Yeah.” I replied.
The walk to his class was pretty much uneventful except when he screamed at me for almost letting him run into a wall due to my rushing. He apologized in a mumble a couple seconds later but it was mostly my fault.
The music hall was one of my favourite places in the school. Due to not having enough space in the art wing, it was lined with paintings and photos of the trips the band spent their Christmas breaks and summers going on.
“Thanks.”
I looked back over at Jean in complete surprise. His head was hung slightly making his interesting style of hair fall gently over his vacant eyes.
I grinned. “You're welcome. So hey, you want to hang out over lunch?” I asked without thinking. I didn't know where the words came from but the words came out of my mouth before I could stop them.
His eyebrows shot up into his hairline like they had in first period. “Uh, yeah, I would. Didn't you tell your other friend you'd hang out with them though?”
I shrugged. “It's okay, I can hang out with Armin later.” I said trying not to dwell on the fact that I was technically breaking a promise to Armin. “I can meet you here after class if you want.”
He nodded quickly and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, uh, okay.”
After a brief awkward silence, I shuffled forward to open the music room door for him. I immediately noticed Sasha sitting in the back of the room with her books balanced on her knees in the only half full room. It didn't surprise me in the least that she elected to sit in the back.
She caught my eye and sent me a confused look before standing up to meet us in the doorway. “Something wrong Marco? If I had of known you were taking music with me I could have waited!” she whined.
“Sorry,” I told her earnestly. “I'm not. You know I can't play to save my life.” I looked over at Jean who was fiddling with his walking stick. “I just told Jean I'd walk him here.” I grinned over at him and he gave Sasha nothing more of a response than a tiny nod of his head. I rolled my eyes and continued to talk. “Besides, I can count how many instruments I can actually play on my hand.”
Sasha smiled back. “Connie told me you couldn't figure out a way to play the triangle.”
I flushed. “I really couldn't. Must be because I'm left handed.” I said. Sasha let out a sputtering laugh, almost covering Jean and I in spit. Jean raised an eyebrow in confusion, not understanding the joke. I poked him lightly in the ribs after looking up at the clock on the music room wall. “I'm going to be seriously late, I'll see you two later!” I turned to run out of the room and as an after thought I yelled over my shoulder, “Sasha take care of grumpy pants for me!”
I heard Sasha laugh again and Jean start to yell something after me but I had already shut the door and started to run to the staircase that lead back up to the third floor.
It took me a minute to realize I was grinning to myself.
I decided that even though he was cranky, rude, and sort of reminded me of a cat that had been dunked in a bucket of water, I liked Jean.
I was glad I took Writer's Craft as one of my courses. It was a small class with only fifteen students and the teacher, Mike Zacharias was a lot more enthusiastic about his class than Erwin was. I decided that I thought he was okay, even he did sniff us when we left the room.
Jean and I were sitting right outside the music room, eating our lunches that we had bought in the cafe. He was telling me something and I suppose I really should have been listening but I was just so focused on actually having an excuse to look at him without him snarling at me. His face was long and full of sharp angles, just when I thought I was going to look away from him I found myself noticing the slant in his jaw line or how his mouth was slightly crooked. His eyes were light and vacant amber and good god he was pale but it wasn't like I disliked looking at him. In fact, there was something about him that made me not want to look away. To say he wasn't attractive would be an outright lie.
My eyes moved from his face to his hands which were moving around his head in crazy, animated motions as he talked to prove his point. I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if he whacked himself in the face.
“-and you do realize there are triangle stands right?”
Oh right, he was telling me about how me not being able to play a triangle was dumb.
I wished for a second he had hit himself in the face.
“I did not know that.” I told him which earned me a smug smile from his dumb, attractive face.
The truth is, I wasn't sure if Jean had figured out my loss of limb yet. If he had, he hadn't brought it up. Either way, I wasn't going to bring it up. I would wait for him to ask me about it or for it to come up in conversation. I liked talking to him like I was an equal and not have him feel like he had to baby me around.
I snuck a quick glance down at my phone that was laying in my lap.
Two unread texts from Armin.
From: Armin Alert
We've decided to eat outside in front of the main doors.
From: Armin Alert
Oh. Sasha told me you were eating lunch with Jean. That's okay, want to invite him to sit with us tomorrow?
I looked back up at Jean who was telling me something else about how one would play a triangle.
To: Armin Alert
I don't think he likes people.
A few seconds later I felt my phone vibrate in my hand.
From: Armin Alert
Marco, you're people and he seems to be fond of you.
I was pretty sure I had never actually seen the word 'fond' in a text message before, but it wasn't unlike Armin to break that streak. I cracked a small smile I typed another message.
To: Armin Alert
No, I'm a Bodt.
In a matter of milliseconds I got another text.
From: Armin Alert
yo marco its ymir nxt time i see u im ripping ur arm off fr tht pun
I smiled down at my phone again. When I first met Ymir, I would have wondered if I should fear for the safety of my arm but after getting to know her I realized that even though she appears to be threatening and sometimes a little cold, she liked me enough to keep my arm intact.
I tucked my phone into my hoodie pocket and turned my attention back to Jean. He had stopped talking and was stuffing his face with his BLT.
“So hey,” I said leaning back slightly on my arm. “What are your next two classes?”
He swallowed and bit the inside of his cheek, trying to remember. “I have French third and then University English fourth period.”
“English with Pixis?” I asked.
He nodded as he took another bite. “Yeah.” He said with a full mouth which gave me a full view of his chewed food. Yum.
“Guess we're going to have English together then.” I said ripping off the wrapper of my granola bar with my teeth and taking a large bite of the chewy goodness.
The ends of his lips tweaked upward the slightest bit. “What do you have third period?” He wondered out loud.
“Advanced Biology with Hanji.” I informed him smiling widely, feeling proud of myself that I had evoked a somewhat genuine small smile from him.
“Your classes are all over the place.” he stated which caused my smile to falter. “World Politics, Writer's Craft, Biology and English. I'm not really seeing any links there. Then again, seeing isn't my forte. Care to enlighten me on what Marco Bodt is going to do with his life with those random courses under his belt?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you're one to talk.” I stated. “You have World Politics, Music, French and English. What are you going to be? A linguist?”
“No, but if my accent didn't stink, that would be a good back up.”
“Your name is French, your accent can't be that bad.”
“Excellent deduction skills, but yes, I'm very good at French.” he agreed proudly. “Russian on the other hand-”
“You speak more than English and French?” I interrupted in surprise as I gnawed down on the wrapper my granola bar with my teeth.
He puffed out his chest in sudden pride. “Besides English and French I can speak five other languages so seven in total,” he scrunched up his nose and counted on his mayo covered fingers. “German, Italian, Spanish, Russian and Dutch. I tried learning Polish but I couldn't figure it out.”
For a second I was glad he was blind because he probably would have laughed at the surprised look that painted my face because he honestly sounded disappointed in himself that he couldn't learn an eighth language. I couldn't even conjugate avoir properly.
“That's really impressive.” I said leaning forward, fully intrigued.
He brushed off the compliment with a shrug and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, my family travelled a lot when I was a kid. You kind of pick it up when you're exposed to it for so long.. ” he stated biting at his lip with a brush creeping into his cheeks.
“I'll have to get you to teach me some of the basics.” I laughed through a wide grin.
His blush deepened. “Uh, okay, sure if you want.” He said softly as he averted his gaze to the ground. He pulled at the ends of his bangs so that they would fall over his eyes. I wondered if he was trying to hide his burning face from me.
It didn't seem like he was used to getting compliments as openly as I was giving them.
He played absentmindedly with the strings of his sweater and nodded quickly. Good god up in the heavens, he was really cute when he was flustered.
I shook my head and scolded myself. No Marco, calm your homo. No hitting on the new blind kid on his first day of school.
He shrugged again. He failed to regain his composure so instead, he changed the topic He cleared his throat and spoke loudly with a noticeable crack in his voice. “So, Marco, I was wondering if you could-”
His words were cut off sharply by sound of the bell echoing through the hallway, signifying that lunch was over and we had to make our way back to class.
I stood up and stretched. “Sorry, what?” I asked him as I bent over to grab my bag and the food wrappers I had tossed on the ground.
“Nothing.” he replied, leaning against a wall of lockers. He crossed his arms across his chest and turned his face away from me. I rolled my eyes at him and picked up the garbage that he left on the floor as well.
“Come on grumpy pants.” I muttered to him, pushing lightly against him with my right shoulder. “French classes would be on the second floor.”
“Yes mom.” he grumbled under his breath.
I looked back at him, fully expecting him to be scowling but instead I was surprised to see that he was smiling softly at the ground. I smirked feeling delighted and tossed our garbage in the trashcan at the end of the hallway and we walked to his next period class in a comfortable silence.
“Man, English sucks.” Jean whined as we left the classroom together. “Not to mention Pixis is an ass.”
“You're just mad because he made you sit at the front.” I laughed.
“We're in high school!” He exclaimed throwing his arms in the air in exasperation, almost hitting a bystander in the face with his walking stick. “And he gave us assigned seats!”
“I personally like sitting near the window.” I stated jokingly, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Maaarcooooo.” he whined again, clutching his side as if my elbow had actually hurt him. “You don't understand my pain.”
“You sit beside Armin, it's not that bad.”
“I don't know Armin.” he groaned, once again being obnoxiously loud.
“Then get to know him.” I retorted. “He's in our World Politics class.”
Jean rolled his eyes. “I know that, shit canoe.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Shit canoe?”
“Better than fucker isn't it?”
I sighed and let it go. “You could say hi to him or something.”
“Yeah but he doesn't talk, and when he does it's always to that guy that smells like he had a million bottles of axe dropped on his head.”
“Reiner. His name is Reiner and he also just so happens to be in our World Politics class.” I said.
“Yeah, whatever.” Jean stated, shrugging.
“You're impossible.” I stated pinching the bridge between my nose.
“Mhmm.” he hummed happily and gnawed thoughtfully on his lip, almost snagging his teeth on his lip ring in the process.
“So hey,” I piped up as we exited the front doors of the school. “Maybe tomorrow I could-”
“Jean!” A voice interrupted me. “Jean Kirschtein!”
I turned around to look at who was calling for him but Jean simply let out a large and over exaggerated sigh. “Yeeeeeeeeeees Carolina?” he asked drawing out his words as long as he could in a clearly irritated voice.
A small blonde girl who couldn't have been older than twelve, raced over to where we were standing, her neon orange backpack embraced in her arms. “Jean, I asked you to meet me near the main office.”
Jean shrugged nonchalantly. “I forgot.” he said simply.
The girl rolled her eyes at him and turned to me. “Hi, she greeted. “I'm Carolina Kirschtein.”
“Marco Bodt.” I said with a smile before I turned back to face the frowning boy beside me. “Jean, is this your little sister?” I asked nudging him in the arm with my elbow.
“Cousin.” They replied in a simultaneous deadpan.
“I walk Jean to school,” she told me before she turned back to face him. “and I am supposed to walk him home.” she hissed through her crooked teeth.
Jean waved her off. “I was having a conversation.” he turned his head back to face me with a fake look of genuine interest on his face. “I'm sorry Marco, what were you saying?”
I blushed. “Oh, I was just going to ask you if maybe you wanted to come a little bit early to school tomorrow so I could properly show you around.”
He smirked at me before giving me a light punch in the shoulder “Yeah, okay as long as you'll cover for me when I fall asleep in homeroom.”
“I'm rolling my eyes.” I told him bluntly and he laughed an almost genuinely sounding laugh. “So just meet me here tomorrow morning okay?”
“Yeah, alright.” he replied. Carolina yanked on his sleeve and he glared down at her. “Jesus Christ calm down.”
Carolina stuck out her chin defiantly. When she did that she looked almost like a younger, female version of Jean. “Tante René said she wanted you home as soon school ended.”
He crossed his arms across his chest and sneered down at her with just as much frustration in his gaze and she had in hers. “Jesus fuck, give me a second and we'll go.” he growled, every muscle in his entire face and body twitching in anger.
I waved my hand in front of my chest. “No, you should go, I'll uh see you tomorrow Jean.” I stated, shooting him a quick smile.
He sighed and looked sad for a millisecond but then he looked up and smirked at me. “Alright then, I'll see you tomorrow morning.” He paused for a second and then asked, “Do you walk home? I mean, you could walk with us if you wanted.”
“Uh, sometimes but my mom is picking me up today,” I said. “maybe next time?”
He nodded, not looking too disappointed at me casting off his suggestion. Instead he simply held out his arm like what someone would do if escorting a date in the 1950s or some old sitcom. His cousin took it without hesitation. He threw a small, nonchalant wave over his shoulder as he began to walk away. “Later Marco.” he called.
I waved back and watched them walk away. It wasn't until they were almost completely out of sight that I started to feel a little bit guilty. Maybe I should have offered him my arm earlier, instead of grabbing for his arm. That probably would have helped him. I sighed and felt my shoulders drop. There was probably a lot of things I could have done to make today easier for him, but the bottom line was, I didn't know the ropes of being around the blind. It was just like how a lot of people didn't know the ropes of being around me, an amputee. I looked down at where my arm had been just a couple years ago and I ground my teeth.
I hated to admit it, but it annoyed me when people made assumptions about me and my disability. They didn't know me or my needs but they liked to pretend that they did to make themselves feel better about having to be around me.
Jean probably felt the same way, the only difference was he was a lot more hesitant to give up his dignity as a full functioning human being than I had been and sink down a level of being babied by the world.
He was desperate to be seen as normal.
But weren't we already normal? Wasn't I just missing my arm? Wasn't he just lacking his eyesight?
What made us so different?
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a group of at least seven freshmen girls in tiny skirts pointing over at me, being as discrete as freshmen can be. I sighed deeply and averted my eyes from their flailing limbs. I shut my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose tightly in a vague attempt to block them out.
Worldly visions and distinction.