Chapter Text
It was sophomore year. Jean recognized him from... Somewhere, he knew. But he couldn’t place his finger on it. He brushed it off. Whatever, he thought. That kid was a year older. They wouldn’t have any classes together, so what did it matter if he looked like someone from some place that one time?
But they did have a class together. Jean had an aptitude for maths, and went into an advanced class. Marco Bodt, that was his name.
It began to bug him more and more, that freckled face that frequented his 5th period class.
Before long, it started grating his nerves so terribly he couldn't take it. Those naive smiles and the airy laughs Bodt shared so openly. Where was he from?
Despite his better judgement, he looked Marco up online. Jean usually hated social networks. He thought they were full of assholes, which they were; assholes that had nothing better to do than complain about rival teams and about how the latest Halo hadn’t been released yet. One of those assholes being Eren Jaeger. But who fucking cares. Jaeger was full of shit anyway.
Social networking only benefitted him in times like these. That slighted anxiousness of not being able to identify a stranger you feel isn’t really a stranger. In that moment, Facebook was a gateway of impression, a blessing disguised as post after post of whiny teenagers. Here was Marco Bodt, with the ever so childish Spongebob cover photo that hadn’t been changed since 2011.
It was so stupid. He couldn’t help but laugh, just a little. But he’d never admit out loud that maybe yeah, it was kind of funny.
Maybe Marco Bodt wasn’t an asshole. He liked decent music, watched some alright television. He didn’t seem as pretentious as ninety five percent of Trost District High School. Marco was becoming alright in Jean’s book.
Maybe Jean would say hi tomorrow. It was whatever to him. Just whatever.
And there it was, right under his dumb grinning profile photo.
“Attended Rose Junior High.”
Bingo.
When Jean spotted him the next day in class, there was a moment of indecision before he raised his hand to the boy to whom his efforts were going towards for some reason. He couldn’t help but be curious, and something down in the cavity of Jean’s chest ached for companionship. A loneliness he would try to bury until further notice.
Jean oftentimes had difficulty relating with his peers. They were called peers, but realistically he thought of his classmates as little more than mouths that had the ability to spew nothing but bullshit 24/7. His personality wasn’t much of a crutch either. He couldn't deny to himself that he did want to get along. Not that he'd ever try though.
Maybe he thought Marco was a gateway to something he could call a friend. Maybe it was the fact they attended the same middle school. Maybe it was because Marco seemed friendly enough.
Maybe it was his welcoming smile. Jean didn’t know. To him it was all whatever. Usually whatever. But whatever was beginning to wear him out.
“Hey,” he said with the most casual tone he could muster. Why was he so nervous? Marco's lips curled up into a smile, revealing the way his bottom teeth mashed against each other a little in contrast to the rest of his straight teeth. Someone didn't wear their retainer.
Jean wasn’t one to talk though. The same thing happened to him, but his parents tortured him through another six months of braces to correct his teeth once more. Jean suppressed a smile of his own. Maybe they had more in common that he thought.
"What's up?" Marco asked, sitting in the desk next to him.
"You went to Rose?" Jean turned to his bell work. Marco's eyes lit up. Trost was a high school that was attended by students from two counties; Jean and Marco's middle school was dwarfed in comparison. Rose was a small school and most of its graduates when to Marian High School, not Trost. There was no wonder Marco was excited to find someone else that called Rose their alma mater. Marco beamed.
"Yeah, I did! You did too? I don't remember seeing you there. Then again we're in different grades. Oh, were you i-" Ms. Rico cut him off, looking bored reading from a slip of office paper. It was unprofessional to allow students to call her by her first name, but her last name was so hard to pronounce she didn't even want to try to get the kids to butcher it.
"Students, it's club time. Join a club. 3D Art, swimming, the Trost High Baseball team-- you get the point. Sign ups will be posted outside of guidance." Rico crumpled the paper and attempted a toss into the garbage can. She missed. "Now that that's out of the way, lets get to that homework."
Baseball, huh. Jean dabbled in baseball in 7th grade. Joining didn’t sound like the worst idea out there. In high school physical activity was hard to come by. Plus the Marian Titans were all dicks, he wouldn't mind kicking their asses. He was good at sports, so there was no doubt in his mind he'd make the team.
Additionally, with extracurriculars he could make his college apps look better. And with a good college, he could make a good living and move somewhere nice. Maybe even the Interior, an expensive country club-esque residency.
At the end of class he packed up his bags and headed towards the door, typing his homework into his phone. Marco stopped him, asking if he was going to join any clubs. Jean adjusted his bag on his shoulder.
“Maybe.” he shrugged and headed to lunch. He was pursued by freckles. Right. They had the same lunch period. Jean felt slightly nervous with Marco following him. But if this was what friends were like, he supposed he’d have to get used to it.
Lunch was awkward. Most of the time, Jean sat alone or next to a group of people from his middle school. Which were like, four people. He'd never really had a conversation with someone before that didn’t end in snide remarks or punches flying. Jean was lonely as hell, and he had no clue what to say when Marco sat down with him.
But he was grateful for the company, even if they didn’t say anything. Jean did his homework at lunch, and it turns out Marco did too. No one expected the youngest Kirstein to have chosen Trost District over Marian Prep, or that he would be so studious. But he was. He figured that was another reason he had so few people to talk to. He knew no one, and upon the mention of his siblings at Marian, people figured he was a preppy douche like the rest of his family.
At least that’s what he told himself. He blamed his family for the absence of companionship in his life. Jean had a hard time admitting things already. He wouldn’t even admit his loneliness to himself. His family could deal with the blame he mentally cast upon them.
Having Marco sit with him sprouted a feeling of comfort in his chest. Lunch was nearly over but it felt as though the open wounds left by loneliness were slowly patching themselves up, thanks to Marco. Waving goodbye to his newly considered friend, Jean felt a tinge of sadness that the hour had already passed. It was short lived but enjoyable. For once, Jean Kirstein was excited for school.
The next day in class, Jean held back a big smile as Marco walked in, taking a seat next to him. He couldn’t show too much interest. That would be weird. They were just friends, if even that. One fucking day at lunch didn’t mean friendship, he berated himself mentally. They weren’t even friends on Facebook. Jean thought too much. Sometimes he wished he could turn it all off and just be a robot. But then who would be there to laugh at Jaeger? Connie couldn’t diss Eren like Jean could.
Ignoring his mind for a bit, he hesitantly reached out his hand, before pulling it back. Marco was talking to other people. Jean had totally disregarded the fact that Marco could have other friends. He couldn't expect Marco to drop everything and buddy up with good ol' Jean Kirstein after an hour of silence at a table. He decided on a note. Dropping an innocent slip of paper asking him to text him wasn't anything major. Jean was about sixty two percent sure that kids did that these days. It was Friday after all. Casual stuff like this was more permitted on Fridays, he thought.
He also thought that that action wouldn't eat away at him. From his departure from school to his arrival at home, all Jean could think about was Marco Bodt and his damn cell phone. The sun was starting to set, as were his nerves. Jean decided he would drop it. Laying back on his pillow, Jean silently reverted himself to his old ways. Silly, he thought. It was silly of him to get so riled up about a dumb boy from his class; he wondered if this is what girls felt like. He sighed, glad it was over.
Buzz.
"hi jean!! its marco bodt from 5th period. sorry to keep you waiting heh ;)"
Jean stared at the smiley. Another text came in.
“sorry!!! meant to be a :)”
He felt his heart drop. Shit.
In that moment Jean knew that it was well not over.