"Eren please! I-I didn't mean to!"
"Eren, stop it!" Historia did her best to reach Eren's arm despite her limited height.
School had ended a little over fifteen minutes ago. She and Eren were in the school's student parking lot, where Bertholdt's Chevy was parked not too far from the entrace. Eren currently had the former pinned against the driver's seat door, his collar in both his hands, glaring with a fury Historia had never thought he was capable of, and never ever wished to be on the receiving end.
Eren had apparently tracked down Floch as soon as Historia has texted him about what had happened in Orchestra class (whether Floch had survived the encounter, she wasn't clear, though she did hear an ambulance that might have been driving towards their school's parking lot). But it turned out that Bertholdt; the tall, shy but kind looking boy who barely spoke a word at their lunch table who had let the cat out of the bag. And at the moment it seemed that Eren didn't care if he have done so without meaning to or with malice. Despite Bertholdt's impressive height, Historia got the impression that he'd didn't have the courage to raise his voice, much less defend himself when intimidated.
"I expected better of you, Bert. I really did." Eren's unbridled fury was a terrifying sight to behold; one which Historia hoped to never be at the receiving end of. His kind, handsome face had morphed into a viscous scowl, and the way he stared up at Bertholdt reminded Historia of monster movies where the creature was stalking their prey. He might as well have grown claws and fangs with the way he was seething in anger at someone he considered to be a friend: did he take betrayal this seriously?
"I know!" Bertholdt held his hands in the air, looking like he wanted to do nothing but crawl into a hole to die. "But we were talking about...kinky stuff during Sex Ed and it just slipped out! I had no idea how Flocke even heard me, he was two tables away from me!"
"Clearly he was still able to hear you.," Eren growled, eyes seeming to glow in anger. Historia could swear his vein was bulging in rage too. "You know what he does with info like that, don't you? Don't you think you should've been more careful? Unless you wanted for him to overhear you? You're not exactly someone who can be easily ignored, you know. Which made it so much easier to track you down..."
"Okay, that's it boys." Somehow Historia managed to push them apart from each other. She put herself in between them and glared back at Eren. "Look Eren, it's out there, maybe sooner than I expected, but it's honestly not as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe I'll get stares in the hallway, but once I start swelling up like a balloon that was going to be inevitable anyway."
After a moment, Eren sighed, looking down and shaking his head. "Bert, you have to be more careful next time. Otherwise I can't trust you whenever any of us has to deal with something like this. Everyone else needs to know about this too."
"Yeah, I know…" Bertholdt stumbled a little, as if Eren had been so intimidating that his legs had turned to jelly. "I'm really sorry, man."
Eren didn't respond, just continuing to stare at the ground, biting his lip, his fists clenched and his arms locked to his sides as if he was trying to stop them from wrapping them around Bertholdt's neck. In the cool air, his breath came out in short bursts of fog, like a dragon unable to hid it's fiery breath.
Historia decided that it was time for them to end it. "It's okay, Bert. I forgive you. I'll make sure Eren calms down."
Bertholdt bit into his lower lip, his bashful eyes looking down at her in shame that was still painfully fresh, but gave her a curt nod in acknowledgement. "Okay."
She really didn't want to make Bert feel any more guilty for what was really an innocent mistake, so she grabbed Eren's arm and led him away to his truck, finally putting an end to the standoff. Today, and for an undetermined time, Eren would drive Historia home, as Frieda had not yet been able to accommodate her work schedule to be able to pick her half-sister up herself.
"That cocksucking blabbermouth son of a swine," Eren snarled as he backed the car out of his parking spot.
Historia shook her head. "Please. You were being too hard on him."
"I meant Flocke, that nosy little-" he sighed, frustrated but trying to remain calm. "So much for being my biggest fan. Wish I could rip off that stupid hairdo of his."
Historia raised her eyebrow. "Your biggest fan?"
"He thought befriending me would be a neat way for him to raise his social status, as if he thought high school was really a hierarchy like in Mean Girls. Also the biggest gossip hound in the entire school. He managed to catch pictures of Franz and Hannah having sex and spread it like wildfire. I just never thought he'd be stupid to assume…
"Plus I've got no reason to be a gold digger," Historia added. "I'm already rich."
Eren chuckled at that. "I guess that's what I get for being known as the Galahad of the track team."
"Wow, I didn't even know anyone was smart enough to come up with a nickname like that."
"You'd be surprised. The Big Dumb Jock cliche? That's ancient history now. But the nickname's no less annoying. And just because I'm not like the other guys who carry more condoms than they do cash doesn't mean I've sworn some vow like a nun."
"Clearly" Historia smirked, resting a hand on her stomach. "But was there anyone you were interested in?" Historia asked. Somehow, despite the fact that Eren had been quite good with her, she had never bothered to ask if there had ever been someone special in his life. Now she was curious, but definitely not jealous. She knew that she didn't have that many close female friends outside of Mikasa.
"…I guess." Eren shrugged. "But when it comes to getting laid, being minus a leg isn't exactly an advantage."
Eren's car accident and what had followed it had been all over the local news. She'd immediately tried to contact him, but the number he'd given her didn't seem to be receiving any calls. Even now, she didn't want to bring up talk of either the accident or his suicide attempt. She couldn't imagine what it must have felt like; to not only lose two friends, a leg, and the willpower to live. Still, for the time being, it was the elephant in the room she would have to be wary of.
Historia thought back to what had happened earlier today. She wondered just how popular Eren was at his school. He was clearly respected, and if Flocke was to be believed, didn't just sleep around with people like she assumed most jocks did. Which…the thought made Historia's feel warm, to know that Eren found her special.
Which only made her feel worse about the situation she'd gotten him entangled in. It was true that she remained unsure of what to do with what was growing inside of her, feeding off her body and already causing bouts of nausea in the mornings. And yet she didn't have the heart to let it go either.
And as if Eren could read her mind…
"So," Eren asked. "What you said about people eventually staring anyway…does that mean you're keeping it?"
"I'm not sure yet," Historia replied in honesty. "But I'll tell you eventually, when I am certain."
"I'm so sorry for all of this," Eren apologized as they stopped at an intersection, waiting for some pedestrians to cross. "I should have been more careful."
"Don't be," Historia said. "I was the one who thought it would be okay in the first place, right?"
She'd been the one who had foolishly thought that it would be alright. On an impulse, unable to control the hurricane of feelings she'd been experiencing, she had initiated their first kiss after she found out that her father had decided out of the blue to enroll her in a SAT course that prevented her from being able to continue with the music program. She'd been immediately heartbroken, not only because that meant that her hours of practice for seating assignments would be all for naught, but because she wouldn't be able to spend time with her friend anymore.
And of course, the most reasonable thing to do was to sleep with him.
She had liked him...a lot more than she realized, it seemed. And they clearly found each other attractive, but Eren had made it clear he was not quite enough to be interested in something deeper. Historia had long accepted it. She had never Still, now she felt he was far too kind to her, to allow him to gel immediately into his life even while he was still recovering from tragedy.
"You're not a burden, you know," Eren said, looking at her with the softened eyes that she had found so handsome. "You never will be."
Historia nodded absentmindedly, though she knew that no matter what he said, it wouldn't be entirely true. She was weighing him down. But there was nothing she could do until she finally made her decision.
When they finally pulled in front of Frieda's apartment complex, Historia turned to Eren and kissed his cheek. "See you tomorrow."
"You too". Eren managed a smile, and then drove away.
As she walked down the winding, Historia decided to push aside the thoughts of today behind her. While she already knew most of the material covered by most of her classes, there were still a few she needed to catch up to. That, homework, and clearing up the office Frieda had offered to her as a bedroom.
There was someone at her home. Arguing that could be heard even from the hallway.
"Frieda, please! Be reasonable. Rod would never—"
That voice... It couldn't be?
"But he did, Ackerman," she heard Frieda interrupt. "You know he's nowhere near deserving of a second chance. Of any chance, actually. And I'm sure Historia would agree."
They stopped talking the moment she entered. At the sight of him, it was as if Historia's heart had stopped. Kenny Ackerman: her father's most trusted legal advisor and political blackmailer, in the flesh, stood across from the coffee table, Frieda sitting on the couch. He was just as menacing as she remembered; crooked teeth, the black fedora still atop his head as if he was trying to look as slick as his favorite movie star, Clint Eastwood.
What little she knew of his history and reputation made him seem just as menacing as his appearance: after serving his sentence for attempted burglary, he'd become a lawyer and had numerous connections that her father did find in handy, though Historia suspected that the man depended on her father's security more that he needed his expertise.
Either way, he was definitely up to no good.
"Kenny," she greeted as she entered the room. "How could I ever think I could've escaped your grasp."
Kenny turned and his eyes immediately brightened, which in her experience was never a good sign. "Historia. It's been a long time, huh?"
"Not long enough," Historia sat down on the couch. "What does Father want with me?"
"He wants for you to come home of course. He's…not been himself since he left. Never seen him more upset in his life."
"That's a surprise, since I've long forgotten the last time I've ever seen him crack so much as a smile."
"Darlin'," Kenny sighed. And Historia winced, as if cute honorifics would really make her warm up to him. "You know he's always been a busy man."
"And that's supposed to excuse what he did? What he's done for as long as I've been living with him?" Historia clenched her fists. "Is that what all the tutors, babysitters and boarding schools were for?"
"He knew he wouldn't be able ta spend much time with you," Kenny replied. "That was just his way of showin' he still cared, that's all."
Historia couldn't believe what she was hearing. "And I guess kicking me out and giving me a few bruises was his way of saying 'I love you'? Do you hear what you're saying?"
Kenny shook his head. "Did ye think he would react well to that sort of news? Would any man react well to finding out his daughter got knocked up at only seventeen?"
"I'd expect no less from a man who would reject his own daughter because of who she loved."
Kenny's face seemed to darken in the shadow of his fedora. "Rod has…his beliefs. Plus Frieda was legally an adult who could take care of herself…"
"Oh just fuck off , Kenny." Frieda spat from her seat on the couch. "I slept on my girlfriend's couch for my entire freshman year."
"You know, he'd always known you'd gotten into Yale," Kenny said. "You didn't have to spend those years in community college. He was totally willing to pay for it all."
"As if I'd want his money, and as if that would make up for anything."
Kenny didn't reply. He turned to address Historia instead. "You're still so young, kiddo. Rod isn't willing to just let you go, you know. With open arms, you're welcome back any time."
"And I'll do whatever I can to keep her away." Frieda stood up, and for a moment she looked as if she were about to punch him. "We have pictures of the bruises he left on face. It's also in her medical record. I can make life very hard for that man. I can leak them to any news site, but choosing not to only because she still has a heart. Unlike you."
"Honestly Kenny, my sympathy is running out, especially since he thought sending you to reason with us was a good idea." Historia added. "I think we've made our position clear enough."
Frieda crossed her arms, giving Kenny a stern look. Historia could sense that she was just about ready to punch the seedy lawyer's nose flat. Instead, she said: "I agree. You've wasted enough time today."
Kenny sighed. Without saying a word, he picked up his suitcase and made his way to the front door. Before he touched the doorknob though, he turned back to Historia. "He is sorry, you know."
"He should tell us that himself," Historia huffed.
At that, Kenny let out a sigh and finally left, thank God. Historia felt short of breath, as if she'd just run a marathon. She put her hand on her chest and sat down on the couch, taking in deep breaths to calm herself.
"Are you okay, honey?" Frieda asked.
"I'm fine, really," Historia insisted. Just the sight of that man, especially given the reasons why he came, had put her on edge.
"I'm amazed his fashion tastes haven't changed since the nineteenth century," Frieda scoffed.
Historia grinned. Her stomach rumbled. "Please tell me you have something good for dinner?"
"Ravioli. Store frozen and loaded with preservatives. Think it's done now, actually."
Historia might as well have jumped with joy. "You're the best."
The dinner, as expected, was every bit as delicious as she'd hoped. As a little girl, she practically lived off the ravioli. during the days whenever she was hungry and neither Rod nor her home; he always loaded the freezer with boxes of them.
Later that night, when she'd finished dinner and her homework, she plopped onto her air mattress and allowed herself to really think about what she was gonna do next. She tried to imagine putting her child through any of the things her father had done. The very thought of it made her sick to her already queasy stomach.
He might have let her live in his home, but to call the way he treated her love … perhaps it was true; in the most basic, coldest sense of the word. He'd treated her like one would treat a car they'd bought. But people deserved something deeper. He'd made sure she was nourished and cared for, but that would never have sufficed as good parenting.
Growing up like that had resulted in leaving Historia a very cold person. She'd formed herself as a vessel solely to maintain her father's image, to be worthy of his name and status.
How pathetic I was, she thought, chuckling to herself. How much time I wasted even trying.
Rod Reiss never seemed to notice or care no matter how much she succeeded. Perfect grades. Musical talent honed by hours of practice. Nothing seemed to draw his attention other than instances where he felt she wasn't living up to his standards. She had been an idiot, she realized, to even try to satisfy someone like him. She'd might as well try to show the Mona Lisa to someone who was blind.
While lost in thought, her hand drifted to rest atop her belly. Maybe she was just imagining it, but she could swear there was a slightest hint of a swell at the base of her abdomen. The thought of it made her giddy, excited even.
Her father...her sorry, pitiful excuse for one, was a grown, middle aged man. And yet she knew that despite being seventeen, despite his skill at politics and business, there was something she could do better than him. She would prove it. She had to prove it. It would be the biggest insult to him she could think of.
It was then it finally sank in; she was free to put her own desires first for the first time in her life. Given she was pregnant to boot, an enormous responsibility came with that, of course. But Historia knew exactly what she felt toward the little life growing inside her now. It was something her father hadn't ever been capable of.
And she knew she wanted to... no, had, to act on that feeling.