Chapter Text
‘Dear Jean hello’.
He had never seen a more poorly-started letter that was so perfect than the one he received from Marco Bodt.
The first time Jean Kirschtein had received a letter from his penpal, he had nearly ripped the envelope to pieces. He had been waiting for the moment where he would arrive home and rifle through pristine envelopes with plastic rectangles and flawless seals that hid secrets and information with wax or the sticky residue that he couldn’t name. It had turned into an adventure of endless anticipation for him. He had trouble making friends already, and there were only two he could give that title to. This was a better chance than ever to find a new friend.
His mother had chided him for his impatience, often nudging him away from the counter so she could take a look at what had arrived. Jean always asked if she had seen a letter for him, explained that he needed to hear from his penpal and how he was doing, but she always gave him the same news: “It's almost here, Jean-boy. The mailman said so!"
Almost ten days after his wait, after pressing against the car window and throwing open the door to check the mail, he discovered the small white envelope that he had been waiting for. And right in the middle of it, in scribbled handwriting, read his information: "Jean Kirschtein; 104Stockton Road; Suffolk, VA 23434”. A few stamps outlined the top right corner, and on the opposite corner, the writer's name and address was written out: "Marco Bodt; 8450 Bogden Avenue; Apt. #850; San Diego, CA 91921". An address he would make himself remember.
It was a letter from an eight-year-old with messy scribbles, written in a red colored pencil. The folds creased the paper and wrinkled it. One corner seemed to have a water stain on it. But Jean didn't care; it was perfect.
October 2nd 2001
Dear Jean hello,
My name is Marco Bodt! I live in California, and I am eight years old. I like to play with my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Lego’s. What do you like to do? My favorite food is spaghetti pasta with tomato sauce. What is your favorite food? When I grow up, I want to be a chef so I can cook yummy foods and give good food to the entire world! What do you want to do when you get older?
Please write back!
Marco Bodt
As soon as he was done reading it, Jean dashed up to his room and looked for a piece of paper to write with. His imagination was already thinking about what Marco Bodt was doing, if he was just as excited to hear from him, if he was already waiting for a reply. He reread the letter before he started to come up with a reply:
October 13th 2001
Dear Marco hello,
My name is Jean Kirschtein. I live in Virginia and I am eight years old too! I like to play with my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles too. Who is your favorite turtle? My favorite food is ommlit. My mommy makes them for me. I will send some to you so you can taste them too. When I grow up, I want to be a Power Ranger.
Will you be my friend?
Jean Kirschtein
It was slow, and it was silly, but it made him happy. For years, Jean would contact his friend in California. For years, he would write him a letter the day he received his, even when they had the chance to email, but Marco didn't have enough money for a laptop or a fancy phone, though neither minded how they communicated as long as they were able to send something. For years, they would get to know each other by words and by pictures that were only able to capture the stilled recollection of memories past, making up his voice to try and figure out how he was speaking, the tone and volume and sound. They would be best friends, comforters, support, always the penpal who would do anything for a person he had never met in real life. And that was how they worked, and that was how they liked it.
x-x-x
June 16th 2004
Dear Marco hello
Dad sent your birthday gift in the mail yesterday. Sorry it’s so late; I blame my little brother for it because he used up all the wrapping paper that I was gonna use and he pooped in the box we were going to pack it in. He’s really gross.
I’m still jealous that you already graduated the fifth grade and summer break starts in a whole week and a half for me. How sunny is it in California? Is it really hot? Connie says that it’s so hot in California, your face will melt off. Has your face ever melted off, Marco? Was it the left or the right side? Did you die?
The other day, I got really sad because we compared our heights from the beginning of the year to the end, and I was shorter than everyone else. Jaeger called me a seahorse and then laughed in my face, but I punched his face and took his Capri Sun, so it’s alright. It was strawberry kiwi.
I really hope you like your birthday present. I looked all over the store for it, and I had to beg my mom and put away the Lucky Charms with the extra marshmallows to get it. But it was worth it because it’s for you. I’m not gonna tell you what it is, though, because you need to find out for yourself. You’re gonna love it.
When your graduation pictures come in, can you send me one? I get to take mine next week and I’ll send you some. I don’t have a horseface. I’m really, really handsome.
Happy birthday,
Jean
P.S. Tag, you’re it
x-x-x
April 7th 2007
Dear Jean hello,
Your birthday present should be arriving soon. I sent it the other day, and I made it myself. I think art is really cool! Self-portraits are really hard, though, and I haven’t seen a picture of you since seventh grade because you had a pepperoni pizza for a face, and you said you would drive to California to kick me in the nuts if I ever mentioned or saw it. I’m still hoping you like it though!
My mom is trying to get me to play the guitar for her performances, but I don’t like playing it. There are too many chords and notes to remember, and she won’t let me play the piano because she already has someone who does that for her. I think she wants me to be a musician, because Los Angeles is only two hours away so that I can “rise to fame” somehow. But I don’t want to do it her way.
I want to cook for people. I want to open up a restaurant with tasty dishes from around the world. I want to serve customers and make them come back next week, and have them as regulars. Cooking is fun! It’s like a science experiment, but without all the messy science stuff. Someday, I will have my own restaurant, and I will be my own chef, and I will make you all the omelettes you want!
Do you know what you want to be yet? Mom said that kids my age should know what we want to be when we're older, but your answer always changes. Remember when you said you wanted to be Raphael from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and you broke your arm because you tried to do a flip like they did? Maybe you can work for me at my restaurant until you can figure it out. But I need to come up with a name for it first. How about “Robodt’s Restaurant”?
Happy Birthday,
Marco
P.S.: Can I send another word search?
x-x-x
[February 26th 2010]
Marco, help. I kissed Eren Jaeger. It wasn’t even a nice kiss, it tasted weird. Like bubblegum. I think he was chewing gum. But I didn’t do anything intimate.
Right now, I’m just trying not to freak out in Connie’s bathroom. We were just hanging out, me and the guys, and we were the only two in the room, and I liked it, but I didn’t at the same time. I don’t know why. It just felt weird. I mean he wasn’t expecting it, and we acted like everything was normal when the others came back. Hell, Jaeger even lied and said that he wasn’t feeling well. I think I made him sick. Can I do that? Is it okay that we kissed?
I don’t even know if I like guys, Marco.
Girls are nice. I like girls, if they’re like Sasha or Mikasa. I haven’t gone out with either of them because of Connie liking Sasha and Eren being really close with Mikasa, but I would if I could. Or at least try to.
I’ve been thinking about my sexuality a lot lately. Mom talked to me about it when she gave me The Talk; she was like, "As long as you are happy and safe, I don't mind who you fall in love with." I'm happy with girls, but this was different. Isn’t it bad for guys to kiss guys? Does this mean I’m gay?
I don’t know what to do anymore.
I'll respond to the rest of your letter when I get home and just attach it to this.
Jean
x-x-x
March 2nd 2010
Dear Jean hello,
Being gay is not a bad thing. And neither is liking girls. It should only be upsetting when you're in an unstable relationship, because those can be nasty. So it's okay if you kissed Eren. There's nothing wrong with that because it's nothing but a kiss. Plus, you said yourself that you two are rivals, so what's the big deal? I’ve kissed boys and girls before, and I'm fine.
Some people make a big stink about kissing the same gender, but it doesn't mean a lot. It's like if someone likes the same color as you: it's not a crime to like something that is the same. I'm happy your mom said that to you, though! What else did she say? Have you talked to anyone about the kiss? I guess Michel would still be confused about it, but what about Lucas or your mom?
I hope your friends are okay with who you are. And I hope you're okay, especially. I remember when I had my first kiss. It felt weird, at first, but it turned out okay after a bit. If I had to choose, I would go with the guy. He was gentler with it and didn't go straight for my tongue.
Congrats on the 92 on your English test! I knew you could do it! When's the next one? What book are you reading now? Our teacher gave us "Hamlet" to read, and I'm really excited. English literature is amazing to me. It has a lot character and value and there’s so much we can do with it! And French is cool too; I love "Count of Monte Cristo". What's your favorite?
Again, I hope everything is alright with you and Eren! Remember: it's not a bad thing to be gay.
Now pneumonia-free,
Marco
x-x-x
It was in 2012, a week before his graduation, when Jean had received his last letter from Marco Bodt. He had sent a reply to it, waited for his reply, and checked the mail on the day it should have been there, and found nothing from his Californian friend.
When it came to friendships, he worried extremely about losing one or the other due to his harsh personality. He was sarcastic and snarky, and his temper was barely under control. His language was crude. He was the kid that caused trouble wherever he went, a name and reputation he had maintained since middle school. Despite all of this, however, he cared deeply for his close-knit group of friends, and he was there for them whenever he could be there, even if he fought with them and managed to get under their skin. They were important to him, and they were all aware of that.
Perhaps Marco got tired of writing to him. Jean stayed up late before high school graduation, reading their latest letters to search for any signs of something wrong. He sent another one before he left for his graduation ceremony, asking if Marco was okay, if his family had stopped him from writing, to contact him whenever he got the chance. But there was never a reply to that either.
It was as if he had been removed off of the face of the earth, without any warning.
Jean read as many “Dear Jean hello”s as he could, begging for an answer, begging for Marco to come back into his life. But whenever he asked, there was never an answer.