Chapter 11: Annie

Monday, October 5th, 2015

Professor Hanji was in one of those moods today, it seemed. I was not listening at all, but she was going off on a rant about biology and the mutation of human kind. The hands on the clock seemed to move through time as if it were molasses. This class was not my favorite, biology was nowhere near to my strong suit. Plus, like the rest of this damn curriculum in the school, it bored me. Ymir's feet were already up on the table, her head leaned back, mouth open and snoring without any trace of shame. It was amusing, to say in the least.

My stomach growled. There had been no food in the house. Again. Not that it was a surprise, I did not expect my lousy excuse of a father to actually support me. I would have to go after school to the gas station to pick up the essentials. My stomach felt like it was howling like a wolf stranded. It had been almost twenty-four hours since the last time I ate. I really did need to go to the grocery store. I could not survive one meal a day, a meal that was provided in school at lunch time.

Besides, I had the money to buy the supplies, thanks to the stipend we receive on a monthly basis. I just did not have the means of getting around by myself, because I did not even have a driver's permit. I would have to wait until I turned eighteen to drive around. Until then, I would call taxis or take the bus, or as a last resort, asking the other cadets for a ride.

The bell rang, and with it, came a sigh of relief. No longer would I have to listen to Hanji ramble about nonsense, at least, for the day. I grabbed my things and disappeared out of the room. Next up was World History with an emphasis on the military or something of that nature.

Mr. Bozado was picking his teeth, his teeth swiping over them. His expression was bored and arrogant, nothing out of the usual. He was more outspoken than Levi was, and more outwardly-confident in his abilities. He frequently boasted about his times in the infantry, fighting against the TITAN threat twenty years ago. He was sure that they were gone; defeated not by the United States but by themselves. He was sure there was too much fighting within the Syndicate for them to remain a threat. Mr. Bozado was wrong, of course. He did not know the Syndicate like I did. The fact made me smirk. Arrogant fools were going to be the downfall of everything Western Civilization holds dear. Commander Erwin seemed to understand. It was foolish for the Survey Corps to place him in a position where he was not directly in the battlefield.

I took a seat next to Armin, who was furiously scribbling some notes from a book he was studying on his own. The rest of the students were filing in.

"Alright class," Mr. Bozado puffed, spitting out his toothpick into the trashcan. His tongue swiped over his teeth again. It was an annoying habit of his, along with spittle flying out of his mouth whenever he started to talk for prolonged periods of time.

We gave our half-assed salutes, stood at attention, our backs snapping like twigs, and held the salute until he told us to stop. He always made us hold our salute longer, the longest was a minute and a half, a record uncontested by the rest of the teachers. It gave him a power trip, I think.

There was a rustling sound, and it was not coming from all of us Cadets sitting down. The wind was roaring outside, like an angry beast scratching and clawing on the windows and walls of the school. The leaves were autumn colors now, no longer were there any lingerings of green.

I clicked my pen and was ready to take notes. Mr. Bozado seemed as if he was ready to tell us something important. I clicked the pen again, and set it down as he took a deep breath in and dragged down the projector screen.

Usually he lectured using the whiteboard and read his notes out loud, he was old-fashioned like that but only because he was too impatient to learn the ins and outs of technology.

"As some of you might have guessed, I am assigning you a project. If you do not finish in class, it will become homework," Mr. Bozado said as he stepped up on a desk to turn on the projector. It hissed in response and angrily turned on, lights blinking. "And before you all start complaining, it is a partner project."

There was a silent groan that filled the classroom. It did not need to be heard out loud for everyone to know just how annoyed we were. We were not supposed to receive any sort of homework. That was part of the deal.

"Stop looking across the room for your partners. We will be drawing them."

Eren let out a frustrated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. It was a dangerous prospect for him especially because both Jean and I were in the class with him. His most favorite people in the world. I was hoping, though it was unlikely, that Mikasa and I would be paired up.

"But first, let me explain this project to you before we get to excited," Mr. Bozado chuckled.

He grabbed a laser pointer from his desk, and stepped back in front of the projector screen, his heavy boots making loud thumps on the floor.

"We will be learning about ancient battle techniques, or war strategies, of civilizations that have perished a long time ago," He said, clicking to the next slide. With the pointer, her circled around the vast amount of requirements for the project.

"You can chose any ancient civilization, up until 500 A.D., so that includes the Romans if that tickles your fancy. Additionally, you will study a hand-to-hand combat technique, and demonstrate in front of the class."

At the very least the project was interesting. He continued a bit about the specifics of the project, and I zoned out. All I cared about was that I was paired up with Mikasa. If Eren… I rolled my shoulders, and crossed my legs, trying to push the insistent jealousy out of my head. She kissed me after all. There was no reason to feel like I needed to compete, but yet, here I was, my heart freezing over from jealousy.

"Mikasa Ackerman," He called her up. She pushed herself off of the desk, graceful and quiet, and lightly treaded to where Mr. Bozado stood. She put her hand in the hat, circling around with a delicate turn of her wrist. Her gaze met mine and she gave a soft smile. When she pulled up to read, there was a small trace of disappointment on her face. "Sasha Braus."

Sasha gave a small squeal of excitement. At least it wasn't Eren.

"Armin Arlert," Mr. Bozado said, holding up a hat full of thin, white, strips of paper. He rustled the hat impatiently as Armin scrambled to his feet, saluted, then stuck his hand into the hat.

He lifted his hand, shaking off the papers that clung to his hands. He straightened the paper out, holding it out so he could read it. His deep blue eyes shifted to me, and I knew he had picked my name. "Annie Leonhardt."

At least I was paired up with the class genius. Eren ended up being paired with Jean, which almost made me start to laugh out loud. Almost.

I brought my backpack to the grocery store. I did not feel like taking a taxi, so I walked down the streets. My phone in my pocket buzzed. I smiled a little bit to myself as I pulled the phone out of my pocket and swiped across the screen. Mikasa just texted me. It was short, but it… it carried a lot of meaning. It made my heart feel like it was not entirely made out of ice.

[Mikasa Ackerman, 7:02 P.M.]: Stay safe walking to the store

I chose not to respond to the message and stuffed the phone back into the pocket whence it came. I pulled my hoodie up, feeling safe in its surroundings. It smelt vaguely of my cat Zeke. I thumbed over my worn leather wallet, ensuring it was still there. With a sigh, I was relieved to find it had not moved. I just did not want to lose it. Otherwise, I would be going hungry until the next paycheck came. And that was two weeks from now. Before I enlisted in the program, that is how long I did not eat breakfast and dinner, only lunch.

The grocery store smelled like a different world, as if space and time did not exist the same way in it. People moved in and out of the store, unaware of each other, and each in their own individual existence. My hand hooked around a small shopping basket. This was the only container I would need.

I passed the pastry section, and avoided looking there. The temptation to buy two weeks worth of donuts and nothing else was very high. I stared at them a little longer before tearing myself away, walking to the essentials. I grabbed a couple of loaves a bread and put them into the basket.

I wandered around the store for a little bit after I found all that I wanted. It was calming to walk through the almost empty aisles. The only sound was a faint hum of the building. I could not stop thinking about those donuts in the pastry section. They looked so good, and they smelt even better.

Before I left, I opened the glass door that was in front of the donuts. I took a section of tissue paper and grabbed the donut. My stomach rumbled. I did not eat dinner. I deserve this, I do. There was no way I was paying for this donut. I took small, quick, bites out of the pastry until it was gone. It was so fatty, so delicious. I had not eaten anything junk food related in over two months. My mouth was watering. I wanted another one, but I did not want to risk being caught. I wiped off the remnants of the donut on my sleeve, hoping there was no frosting smeared across my face. My body seemed to relish the sweet taste. It was almost foreign…

I walked past a teenage girl on the way to the checkout line, and her scent hit my senses like a baseball bat. The smell took me back to homecoming. It was sweet, gentle, not too overpowering, and it was like walking through a meadow. Soft. Kind… It brought me back to when Mikasa kissed me. My toes curled in my boots at the memory. Her lips are so soft… I hope to kiss her again…

The mere thought made me flush. I took out the items from the basket and put them on the counter, not making eye-contact with the cashier. He scanned the items as they rolled along.

"Paper or plastic?"

The question caught me off guard. I blinked. "Plastic is fine."

He bagged my things, though they were few in number.

"Have a nice day," He said, in a bored tone. His name tag read 'Marlo'. I think I recognized him from school, but I was not sure.

"You too," I responded with equal excitement.

I slung my backpack off of my shoulder and put the plastic bags into it. They barely fit into the backpack. It was heavy when I put it back on my shoulders. The walk was over five miles long, so it was going to take a while. I sighed and mentally cursed my father.

My phone buzzed again.

[Ymr Peterbridge, 8:10 P.M.]: squirt, you need a ride?

[Annie Leonhardt, 8:10 P.M.]: No. How did you even know I needed a ride?

[Ymr Peterbridge, 8:11 P.M.]: Mikasa

I wanted to be mad at Mikasa for telling Ymir I needed a ride. Or even worse... that I needed help. But then I realized… she was just worried about me. She cared. How many people could claim the same?

[Annie Leonhardt, 8:11 P.M.]: I am sure you have better things to do

[Ymir Peterbridge, 8:12 P.M.]: I don't. So are you going to let me help you or not?

[Annie Leonhardt, 8:12 P.M.]: …

[Ymir Peterbridge, 8:12 P.M.]: Hmmm?

[Annie Leonhardt, 8:12 P.M.]: Fine. I'm at the Safeway off of the highway

[Ymir Peterbridge, 8:13 P.M.]: on my way

When Ymir arrived to pick me up, she handed me her helmet. I muttered thanks, and she said not to mention it.

"Mikasa said that she would have picked you up if she had her own car," Ymir said, tying her hair back into a ponytail.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. So she asked me to do it. And here I am," She was smirking to herself. I wonder what Mikasa said she would do in return. It probably had something to do with food, knowing Ymir.

"What did she promise in return?"

"A pizza," Ymir chuckled.

I smiled. "Figures."

"Hold on tight squirt," Ymir whistled as she revved the engine of her motorcycle.