Chapter 3, Mikasa & Jean: Fantasies
Mikasa
September second week of school - Friday night
(Opening Song: Goth - Sidewalks and Skeletons)
….
The approaching dusk breaks like an egg yolk, spilling over the night sky. The sun beams its last hues as it starts to dip below the roof of the house outside her window, the very house that belongs to the boy that had captured her heart despite being a mere stranger. The wink of light casts a dance of orange and red on her art. The pen that was pressed against her fingers, traces splotches of black along her page. She watches as drops of ink sprint down her white paper.
Mikasa finishes the last few strokes of her drawing before standing to light a candle. The smell of wood shavings and fresh cinnamon fills her room as she takes a seat at her desk, resting her palm against her cheek, then peering out at his house. Something about his croaked roof and their soft brown door Carla painted when she first moved here; brought a sense of comfort to her. She notices his light wasn't on, he wasn't home…He rarely was anymore.
The day had been quiet like every other one that came before it. However, that was until her phone buzzed with its annoying ring and when she picked up, Armin's voice was on the other end. His phone service was poor, she could tell by the way his voice was static and was cutting out. "Armin, could you repeat that?"
"Mikasa," His voice sounded odd, it was squeaky and unbalanced. "I…I'm stuck."
"Stuck," She frowned. "What do you mean?"
She heard a whimper. Could he be crying? "I was wrong, Mikasa. I thought…I was wrong."
"Armin, where are you?" Mikasa held that motherly tone, the one that was filled with urgency and anger.
His voice was staticing again. "Jean's party. They laughed and took my clothes. Can I go home?"
Mikasa thought she heard him wrong at first, but it was unmistakable that Armin had said he was at Jean's party. Why would he be there? People like them didn't go to parties with the lacrosse boys, they didn't get drunk listening to trap music, nor dance the hours away on a late Friday night. Mikasa didn't understand what situation Armin exactly was in, but her heart ached hearing her friend in a state like he was in currently. "Armin, I'm coming to get you. Don't wander off anywhere."
"Can't. I stuck," Armin pouted on the other side of the line. Mikasa could tell by the way he was stuttering that he was under some sort of substance, however it was highly unlike Armin to do anything like that. The thought of Armin being drunk didn't even seem like a possibility. What on earth has happened in the last few hours? Mikasa was quick to think of a plan. She placed Armin on hold as she called someone that she knew she could trust to help.
Sasha was in the same grade as her, she was someone she met during her Freshman year
when Sasha continuously begged for Mikasa's leftovers or snacks. Sasha was a glutton in the sense that she had a strong love for food. She also happened to be Mikasa's only friend who owned a car. Mikasa bites her lip waiting for an answer to her call, that is when a voice replies, "Oh my god, Mikasa! Hey!"
"Sasha, could you do me a favor?" Mikasa asks, straightforward.
"Hey! Is that Mikasa?" She heard Connie ask, his voice sounding further away. "What's up!"
"Connie, hold the wheel while I eat my hamburger." Mikasa then heard the ruffling of a paper bag. "Sasha! Shit. Deer!" Connie yelled with terror.
"Huh? What? Where?" Mikasa heard the screeching of tires before Sasha started speaking again, "T-that was, uh, a close one, haha," She paused. "Anyways, we're heading back from that burger place. I have some fries if you want me to bring you some."
Mikasa blinked a few times trying to process the chaos she just heard before regaining her thoughts. "Armin is at Jean's party. I need you to take me to get him."
"Wow! How did Armin get invited to one of those?" Connie asked with amazement. "Props to him. Seriously."
"So…Mikasa, no on the fries? 'Cause if you won't eat them, I will."
Mikasa groaned, getting fed up with the situation. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to call Sasha with a task like this, but if Armin truly was drunk she couldn't have her parents take her or any adult for that matter. Mikasa pressed the phone to her ear harder, looking out her window to the now fully dark sky. "Armin needs us. Please, just hurry."
She hung up the phone then, switching back to the line Armin was on. "Armin, are you still there?" She asked worriedly.
"I-yeah…can't move," Armin mumbled incoherently.
"I got a ride to Jean's party, I will be there as soon as I can." As she hung up the phone with Armin she wondered in disbelief how Armin managed to get himself into a situation like this. Mikasa thought that Armin would've never been caught at one of Jean's parties, let alone be drunk at one.
Mikasa spends the next 10 minutes pacing back and forth on her porch before a big green rusted pickup truck speeds into her driveway. Mikasa would like to comment on Sasha's reckless driving as the truck leaves skid marks on her driveway, but that can wait till another time. As Mikasa approaches the vehicle Sasha rolls her window down, the music in the car blaring loudly. "Hey Mikasa! So we're going to Jean's, right?" Mikasa nods.
A smell instantly hits her as she climbs into the backseat, the odor smelled like the rotten, acid smell of a skunk. She looks over at the bowl of marijuana sitting on the dashboard and the freshly used grinder next to it. The floor of the car is covered in fast food wrappers, along with plastic pop bottles. Mikasa tries to conceal her disgust, as her face turns down into a frown.
"Hey! what's up?" Connie exclaims, turning around from the passenger seat. When he notices Mikasa eyeing the joint in his hand with a scowl, he quickly gestures to it. "Oh shit! Sorry, my bad. You want a hit?" He asks as he holds it out for Mikasa.
"No…" She paused for a long moment with a hint of disgust. "I'm good."
The ride to the party was bumpy to say the least. Sasha yelled at Connie multiple times to roll down the window since the smell of weed was becoming too putrid. Mikasa, however, toned it out as she stared at the screen of her phone. She never was worried for Armin usually since he was always responsible. It was the boy across the street's recklessness that troubled her, never Armin. Tonight though, shined a new light on the matter. It didn't matter though that Armin had made a mistake by ending up at Jean's party, no it didn't matter at all since he was distraught and that made Mikasa upset. She didn't understand though how the boy who always had his nose in a book on a late Friday night was at a party. It also wasn't just any party, it was Jean's party, and not just anyone was invited to his parties.
Mikasa could tell they were nearing the party since she could hear the music growing louder. Jean had invited her multiple times to his parties; which she always declined. When she thought of Jean's house, it was nothing compared to the real thing. The only word that her brain could come up with to describe it was huge.
Sasha pulled up to a curb, her mouth agape at the view of the house. Connie laughed at her expression, "Southern folks like you have never seen a party house, huh?"
Sasha's eyes widened as she quickly closed her mouth. "Uh—well," she stammered. "Hey, wait! Connie, you have never seen something like this either."
Mikasa quickly opened the door not waiting to hear the end of their feud. "Wait here, I'll be right back," she calls. The smell of fresh air was like a breath of life, but she paid it no attention, as she sped to the pair of doors at the front. A ginger boy is slouching there, scrolling through his phone. When he notices her approaching, he quickly stands up straighter before giving her a long look up and down. "Name?" He asked, coldly. Mikasa doesn't answer as she moves to push him to the side. As she forcefully makes her way into the house, the boy tries to chase after her but a voice cuts him off, "Mikasa!?"
She pauses, turning her head slightly. Jean sits on a long sofa, his arms are outstretched around two brunettes. His dirty blond hair that is usually kept in place by gel—is now loosely stringing over his forehead and eyes. He gives her a smile, removing his arms from the girls while grabbing his drink from the coffee table. Once he makes his way to her, he asks, "Mikasa, what are you doing here?" His cheeks are tinted with a hint of pink. "Did you finally decide to come to one of my parties?" His smile grows brighter as he lets out a small laugh. He looks at his drink, shaking his head slightly. "Nevermind that. Can I get you a drink or something?"
When Mikasa doesn't answer, he looks up to the stairs, his face lights up as if he just remembered something. "Also, I got some cool art up in my room, if you want to see?"
"Where's Armin?"
Jean's face twists with confusion. "Which one is that?"
Mikasa, full of rage and frustration, storms off to search for her best friend herself. As she makes her way through Jean's house, the sound of loud, obtrusive music booms through large speakers. The continuous bass and risers echo in her head. She feels out of place among the crowds that she passes. Mikasa was never someone drawn to the flame of adoration and popularity. In fact, she didn't like crowds nor many people for that matter. Despite that—here she was.
I'm doing this for Armin, Mikasa reminds herself as she grabs a blanket that was hanging over a tall lamp. After searching the house, she finds the sliding door in the back of the house. In an instant, she slides it open to then be greeted by the wisp of air. Since it was September, the air during the night was starting to have that slight biting chill. It felt nice to her, however, she knew Armin had to be cold.
There were a few people that linger outside. They mostly consisted of a few guys chatting and smoking, with an occasional couple that cling to one another. Mikasa shook her head, walking along the grass towards the large lake. The moonlight glistened off the water, making the liquid sparkle. It was a nice setting, something she would like to draw. Maybe even share the view with someone…Mikasa frowns at the thought. She continues to push along the edge of the water when she spots something in the distance.
"Armin?" Mikasa shouts to the object.
No reply.
Mikasa takes off at a jogging pace, and as she grows closer she realizes that the object is some type of raft. When she reaches it, she bends down slightly to look if anything is inside.
"A-armin?" Mikasa whispers, full of shock and sadness. The boy is curled up in a ball with no more than just his underwear on. His body shivers from the cold and he bites onto his lower lip to stop it from shaking. Mikasa is horrified from the site, unable to fathom who would do something so cruel. When Armin finally notices Mikasa, his eyes open slightly and his lips quirk up in a drunken smile. "Oh, you came. I'm cold."
"Yes, you might need this, Armin," Mikasa gestures to the blanket she's holding. Armin leans up so Mikasa can wrap the blanket around him. Once it meets his skin, he grabs it with an iron-like grip, holding onto the blanket like a life force. "Who did this to you, Armin? What the hell happened?"
"T-they lied. I thought it would have been different," Armin shook his head. "They took my clothes and laughed," he gestured to himself. "I feel sick."
Mikasa nodded, helping Armin out of the raft. "Let me get you home."
Mikasa, with her hand placed on his back, leads Armin back into the house. When they almost make it out the front door, Jean blocks their path. "Oh, so that is Armin," He laughed, his breath reeling of alcohol. At Jean's smart remark, she was filled with a sort of anger she rarely felt. And with a jolt of sudden and unexplained power; she rammed her fist into the side of Jean's face. As he stumbled back, hand on cheek and eyes filled with surprise, the room broke out in a series of "ohs" and "shits''
To make matters worse, Reiner and Historia came rushing down the stairs. Both of their hair was ruffled. Historia made quick work to smooth her hair and her clothes. Reiner on the other hand, only just started with amused shock. "Oh shit, bro! Isn't that the goth chick from our class?" Reiner questioned then paused. It took him a second, but he soon caught onto the scene that had just played out. "Oh shit. Did she just punch you?"
"I-I uh think so," Jean mumbled, hand still pressed to his cheek.
Mikasa was frozen in place, shocked by her actions. Her eyes frantically searched the room only for them to land on him.
Eren Yeager, the name hurt her heart in an unexplainable way. Though his name didn't hurt half as bad as when she looked at him. It's when her eyes met his striking green eyes, that she wished she could relive those moments. Relive the memories that were nothing more than embers to a seasonal flame.
Mikasa wondered if he ever thought of her as she thought of him…
...
Flashback to 3 years ago
(Scene song: Summertime Sadness - Lana Del Rey)
...
It was the summer just before 7th grade when they first met. Mikasa had just moved to America from Japan. Her father was an architectural engineer who was responsible for designing some of Japan's largest and innovative structures. Due to him being one of the best engineers in Japan, businesses in America had contacted him offering him a large settlement so America could have the same structural advancements that Japan had access to. Although her father was originally from America, he met her mother in Japan. The two then fell in love and the rest was history, so she had heard.
It was the day her parents were hauling boxes from their car into their new house. There was a metal rack in her garage and as she helped place boxes on it, her father accidentally bumped into it causing the rack to come tumbling down. The sharp edge of it ended up scraping into her cheek, sending a stream of blood down her face. Luckily, their new neighbor, Grisha Yeager, was a doctor. As Mikasa's father brought her to him with a rag pressed to her cheek, they passed a young boy angrily throwing a ball against his garage door. When Mikasa took a seat inside the Yeager's house, waiting for stitches, the boy walked up to her. "Did you get into a fight or something?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
Mikasa stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head. "Does it hurt?"
"Yes," Mikasa whimpered as Doctor Yeager tried to clean the blood around her face.
The boy looked closer at the wound. "That will leave a scar. Right, Dad?" Doctor Yeager nodded at his son as he numbed the area with a special cream. "It would be a small scar at most though."
Mikasa frowned. She had felt so small and scared at that moment, her eyes full of fear as she stared into the eyes of the boy. "You have to fight through the pain," the boy smiles, holding out a red beaded bracelet. "Here, play with this." Mikasa blinks hard at the gift before reaching out her hand and grabbing it from his callous palm. Once Doctor Yeager began sewing the stitches into her skin; she felt many tugs but the procedure was mostly painless. The whole time she rolled the beads of the bracelet between her fingers.
Once everything was done, her father thanked Doctor Yeager and while her father was doing that the boy pulled up his pant leg a bit higher to reveal a skinned knee. "I get a lot of injuries from playing Lacrosse in my yard, so stitches and stuff are no big deal to me," He pushed his pant leg back down. "Hey, come on. You can watch how far I can throw a ball. I'm gonna go D1 in Lacrosse," The boy said, running for the door expecting Mikasa to follow.
"Eren, be careful of Mikasa stitches!" His father yelled as they both ran out the door.
Mikasa hadn't known what a friend truly was until she met Eren. And after that day, Mikasa had spent her whole summer with Eren. Actually, she had spent many more summers with him after that, but the summers were all it was…since once school started, he didn't bat an eye at her. So Mikasa watched him from afar as he shined, silently hoping for the days to drag quicker. Hoping that summer came quicker. Eren was sort of like a leech attached to her skin. When she felt like she could get over him—move on from the memories—he would suck harder on her skin. Since once the summer came, Eren would go on acting like nothing happened.
Maybe that's why this feeling deep inside her wouldn't go away.
Mikasa wondered what it would have been like to be the girl who wore his jersey, the girl he could shamelessly walk down the hallways with. The girl that he could call more than a friend. However, that was impossible, Mikasa was never going to be Historia or anyone popular for that matter. Mikasa was the girl who wore dark clothes, created weird art, and was antisocial.
That didn't bother her.
Mikasa was labeled as the goth girl among her peers, but unlike most people, Mikasa didn't let that define her. Most people vowed to never do drugs or drink alcohol, but Mikasa vowed to never be someone she wasn't. She was more than an outsider or goth girl.
Armin saw her for who she truly was and that was why she ran so quickly to his aid. That was why she was at this dumb party frozen in place as she stared at Eren. Just a few weeks ago, he had stared at her with warmth. And when his eyes gazed into hers during the summer, her heart would skip a beat. Now, however, his eyes flicker with fear and guilt. A certain cold glare has glassed over them. This wasn't the Eren she knew from their summers. No, this wasn't her Eren. As they stare at each other, the chaos froze in the background, she pleads for him to help her with her eyes. Mostly, she pleads that he wasn't involved with this, that he hasn't stooped that low. Please, tell me you didn't take it this far, she thought.
She wanted to scream at him.
Scream, "I need you!"
Scream, "Help us, Eren."
But Mikasa stays quiet and so does he. A certain feeling starts to swell in her stomach, a sour feeling. It hits her hard, to the point tears start to swell in her eyes as she continues to haul Armin out of the house. Once they are half way across the yard, no one bothers to follow them. Armin seems to notice her flushed face and the tears that have managed to spill since he mumbles, "Mikasa…"
Mikasa shakes her head, wiping the tears with her free hand. "Armin, tell me something and be honest, okay?"
Armin who has sobered up a bit, nods his head with a worried expression. "Eren. Was he part of this?"
He doesn't answer right away since they make it to Sasha's rusty truck. Connie steps out to help Armin get inside. "Man, what happened? Where did his clothes go?"
"Don't ask," Mikasa states, coldly.
Once they are driving away and the music becomes nothing more than a faded memory, Armin finally answers her question. "He watched but he didn't do anything to me. It was mostly Reiner and the other Lacrosse members. Some of the cheerleaders were laughing, but that's it," Armin pauses, looking down. "I was such an idiot to believe those…douchebags."
Mikasa frowned, resting her hand on his shoulder. As they looked at each other, the question played in both their heads; Who was their Eren anymore?
Jean
September third week of school - Monday morning
(Opening Song: Teenage Dirtbag - Wheatus)
...
Throughout Jean's whole life his mother would force him to watch those clique romance movies with her. Like Sixteen Candles and shit. In Jean's offense, it wasn't cool to spend your weekends cozying up with your mom while watching a long drag out 'love story'. He hated it. Well, at least at first he did…After a while though, he would start to consider what he would do in certain situations and start to picture what he would want in a relationship. Jean started to like the particular movie: Notebook. He liked the dynamic and chemistry. He sometimes even found himself sneaking down stairs to slip in the DVD to watch it.
And once Jean was in 7th grade, he saw the most beautiful girl. Mikasa had this long black hair and dark eyes that caused his cheeks to tint pink. She was quiet and mysterious and he liked that about her. And after seeing her, he started to pay extra attention to his mother's chick flick movies. He thought about how he would give her dozens of roses or confess his love at a Lacrosse game. He tried to come up with a lame excuse to build up the confidence to talk to her. He wanted Mikasa and his love story to be like a movie.
The day Jean had slicked his hair back the perfect way and wore his best clothes, planning to finally tell Mikasa how he felt, a group of his friends pointed a an art piece in the lobby's showcase. "That weird girl Mikasa made that."
"It looks demonic," another of his friends pointed out.
Another laughed, "I heard she does voodoo stuff."
"Creepy."
"She's really quiet and weird."
A normal good guy would have ignored them, but the thing about Jean is that he liked the approval of others. It made him feel good. He liked being liked, and I mean who wouldn't? And during that very moment, Jean realized that his crush on the odd girl couldn't be known. His friends then went on to talk about Mina Carolina, another quiet girl with black hair, but this girl wasn't considered to be 'weird'. That got Jean thinking that maybe he should pursue girls that others would approve of, but instead Jean went on to secretly like Mikasa all throughout middle school all the way to his current Sophomore year.
During all those years, Jean remained well liked. Actually, he became more liked. He threw the best parties, was a decent Lacrosse player, got good grades, and most importantly had a lot of money.
To say Jean was spoiled was an understatement. His dad was a CEO of multiple successful businesses. We're talking multiple vacation houses, private chefs, and VIP club memberships, some Jeff Bezos type shit. His family even had a private yacht which Jean had the privilege of using on the California coast in the summer. Jean was envied, he was in simple words; cool. And hell, he strived by it.
Due to Jean's wealth he developed a tendency to take the easy way in life. To put it simply, Jean was lazy. Growing up Jean had always gotten everything he ever wanted, he never had to work hard for anything. Everyone at school always talked about how jealous they were that his parents let him do whatever he wanted, and how he always had the newest and coolest stuff.
The truth was Jean didn't have everything though. Jean craved his father's attention. He wished this empty feeling in his core would be filled by his father's love. In reality, Jean's dad worked far too much to care about his son. That's the thing people don't talk about with wealth. When most parents would be playing ball with their kids, Jean found himself alone in a house too big. He didn't like the openness of his house—there was too much unoccupied space. Maybe that is why Jean liked to host parties since for one night of the week it wasn't so big. For one night of the week it was crowded. Maybe his father's lack of presence bugged him, but at least he did have people who admired and envied him at school.
He soon found out he would do anything to keep up this reputation and his well liked persona. This would include lying his ass off. His mother would always grill him about how lying was wrong. She would say, "Jean-boy, lying only hurts people and eventually will only nip you in your behind. So the truth will be better in the long run."
Since lying had yet to bite him in the ass he continued to thrive without the truth. Towards the middle of his Freshman year, the biggest bullshit spilled from his mouth during a conversation with two of his Lacrosse buddies. It was Reiner who indicated the topic and Eren who nagged him on, but it was Jean who fueled it with his lying ass. "Tits are cool man, but I'm more of an ass guy myself," Reiner shrugged.
"Nah, tits are the way to go," Jean nudged Reiner playfully.
"Shut up, Jean. You have never even seen anything in person. Those magazines your dad gets in the mail doesn't count," Eren narrowed his eyes.
"Of course I have! I even touched them before," Jean spits, defensively.
"Bullshit! Whose?"
"Your mom," Reiner shouts before bursting into a fit of laughter.
"Shut up, Reiner!" Eren hits him in the side of the head. "Seriously, Jean. What girl would let you touch her?"
Jean scratched his head nervously. "Too many to count, man. I mean, you didn't think I was a virgin, did you?"
"What's your body count?" Reiner asks as they got closer to the Lacrosse field.
Jean bits down on his lip as he thinks of a reasonable number. "Two. That's not counting making out and other stuff. I'm a fairly attractive guy, so you couldn't blame the many girls for wanting to get with me."
"Horse face," Eren coughs.
"What the hell did you say, asshole?!" Jean yelled, pointing at Eren's ugly ass face in accusation. He gruffles a second at Eren's smart comment before mumbling, "Not like you get any action."
Eren scrunched his nose. "I'm with Historia."
Reiner throws his arms around Eren's shoulder, pointing at him. "Lucky guy right here with having someone like that in your bed. You know sharing is caring, Eren. She's the baddest girl I've ever seen, I'm not gonna lie, if you ever break up let me know." As Eren rolls his eyes, Reiner turns his attention back to Jean. "Hey, I have an idea, since we are both full fledged men; at this upcoming party of yours, we should see who can get laid first."
Jean laughs nervously. "Bet."
You see the truth is Jean is a virgin, through and through. He hadn't even had his first kiss. It wasn't that no girls liked him, but instead it was that he was saving himself in a way. He wanted his purity to be taken away by one person. You see, his friends didn't care about romance or a love story. Jean did want those love stories, but he wanted them with Mikasa. He wanted the ones where they kiss in the rain or the ones where they watch the sunset dip below the horizon. Where their souls entwine and everything in the world dissolves in the background. He wanted to be the one to take away her worries and fears. He wanted her name to be engraved in his skin. He wanted her. He wanted her love.
He wanted to give himself to her as well, but he couldn't tell his friends that—so he lied.
And when the day of his party rolled around, he had assumed Reiner would have forgotten about their previous conversation. However, that wasn't the case. So while Reiner was trying to find a girl, Jean was ready to throw in the towel and come clean when he had found a girl from another school sitting sadly on his sofa. He sat next to her and found that her boyfriend had just broken up with her. They soon went up to his room, but nothing transpired. Instead, Jean gave her tips to help make her feel better, quoting the many clique movies he watched. In the end, Jean had 'won' the bet Reiner and him made since the girl had lied for him.
Ever since then, the lie had just been growing larger.
Jean was scared shitless when the mysterious blog was released about Marlo. He then couldn't shake that sick feeling on Monday when another person's secret was revealed. He watches from afar as Armin walks down the hall looking like lamb ready for slaughter. He holds his phone in front of his glasses, his face pale. Jean watches as Mikasa tries to whisper something as Armin looks around with panic. "Armin, I-" He hears her say.
"Mikasa please don't worry about me," Armin cries as he takes off down a side hall. Mikasa is left with her hand outstretched. The blog stated the previous events that happened at his party that Friday night. Pictures of Armin in nothing but his underwear were plastered on the front page of the blog. Jean honestly felt bad for the guy and guilty since he was a bystander during it all. He never meant for it to go that far and upset Mikasa, he just did what the others did…
Jean eyebrows frown as he stares at Mikasa. Her face fills with defeat and sadness. She stands watching the spot where Armin had disappeared when her eyes then start to take everyone in around her and soon they settle on him. Jean had always dreamed that when they made eye contact it would be like the movies, full of romance and tension. However, when her eyes met his, they went cold. Then, without another thought she turned and walked away like the sight of him repulsed her. God he really fucked up.
Jean lingers in the hallways for a minute or so, playing out the scene that just transpired before making his way to the lunch room. Once Jean is in front of the table, he notices Marlo's textbook in his hand and Eren playing mindlessly with his food. He hears Hitch's annoying laugh as Reiner waves around his phone saying, "Damn look at these pictures, we really got him good, huh?"
"Was the hazing really necessary?" Historia sighs at Reiner, her eyes fixing on Eren then to Jean with a type of worry. Jean takes a seat not liking how the conversation is going already.
"Well, I thought it was hilarious," Hitch pitches in as she stares at her phone screen fixing her short hair. "I mean what did that nerd expect showing up to Jean's party like that?"
"I hate this damn blog! It really fucked me over, now I gotta take the stupid SAT again, or I can kiss my scholarships goodbye." Marlo slides his hands down his face before frantically flipping pages of his study book.
"Well like I always say, Marlo. You can't get away with stuff forever, did you really never think you were gonna get caught cheating?" Hitch smirks, before continuing on despite Marlo's dirty look. "I think studying is good for you, some hard work wouldn't kill ya. At least now that kid with the bowl cut is on here—it takes some heat off of you."
Reiner nods in agreement before slapping Jean on his back. "I tell ya Jean you really know how to throw one wicked banger, and that stuff with Armin was just icing on the cake."
"Didn't that goth girl punch Jean though?" Floch mentions. "Eren, why was she looking at you like that too?" Floch asks possessively. He leans a bit too close than normal to Eren, who ignores him, still playing with his food.
"Nevermind that ginger," Reiner dismisses. "It wasn't that big of a deal, just chicks being crazy."
Jean's thoughts turn to Mikasa. That look on her face, that punch, the way she just walked away. Was a little laugh worth that? "The party was ok…" Jean looks down guilty.
"Just ok? It was your idea to prank him anyways."
Eren finally looks up from his plate and stares at Jean and Reiner. Then Eren turns his attention to something in the distance, he frowns. "And Eren, why the long face? I mean, you were the one who invited him. You told us we could do whatever and that it was a golden opportunity," Reiner questions, confused.
Hitch shrugs. "I mean, I don't understand why this school is making such a big deal about it anyways, it's just boys being boys."
Eren slaps his hand on the table, snapping. "Won't all of you just shut the hell up already?!"
Jean's eyes widen as all the guilt just implodes in his stomach. He stands up wanting to get away. He wished he could just shake that look off her face. "I'm not feeling too good, I'm going to the bathroom."
"That's code for shit," Reiner nudges Historia playfully.
"That's disgusting," She scrunches her nose.
As Jean walked away he could understand why Reiner and everyone else wouldn't care. I mean it wasn't the first time they had hazed someone, but to Jean this time was different. He hurt her and he was an asshole for it too. As he passed the table she sat at everyday for lunch—the one that was usually full of life—now empty. He realized it was worse than he thought.
It only got worse when his art class rolled around. Art was a class he looked forward to not only because Mikasa was in it, but because he genuinely liked the subject. His teacher said he was good at it, like one of the best in the class. Well next to Mikasa that is. With art he could finally express himself how he's always wanted to, the pieces he made were often romantic and contained so many of his inner feelings, but that was just another one of the many secrets he would never tell anyone.
Now, however, his stomach twisted like he was going to retch at any given moment. She's late to class and she is never late. Mr. Zacharias, their art teacher, excuses her by saying something along the lines like, "Mikasa, this is unlike you, but I'll let it pass this time."
Mikasa doesn't say nor look at Jean as she takes her assigned seat next to him. He watches her eyes as they never leave her project. Her brows scrunch in both anger and concentration. Thirty minutes pass and he has yet to say anything to her and she has yet to look at him. During this class he can finally be himself since no one from Lacrosse is in this class to judge him. Oftentimes, Mikasa and him strike up engaging conversation, and on occasional times he makes her smile and laugh. Jean hated now that her lips sat in a frown. He missed her soft smiles and the way her eyes lit up with joy. At that thought he finally gets the courage to say something.
"You know I think charcoal is one of the messiest things qqan artist can use. This is what sucks about this project, now I have charcoal all over my hands, see?" He holds out his stained hands in an attempt to make her laugh.
Mikasa says nothing, she doesn't even look up.
Jean tries a different approach. "How's your large imaginary interior coming along anyways?"
Mikasa continues to ignore him.
"I think mine is going pretty good, it was a little bit of a rough start but I decided to go with a giant wedding chapel. I know it probably seems stupid, but I thought it would look kinda romantic. Right here I plan on adding some architectural designs to the walls and the glass to tie into the overall intimate theme of the piece."
Mikasa finally glares at him, her stare like a dagger. "Are you serious right now?"
"H-huh?" He stutters.
"You think you can just talk to me like everything is ok after what you and your friends did to Armin?" She narrows her eyes more. He swore he could feel literal daggers shooting into his body.
"It wasn't—I wasn't, I-It was Reiner who did it. It was his idea!" He tries to defend himself, lying once again.
Mikasa laughs humorlessly. "I don't care whose idea it was, Armin told me both you and Reiner were talking to him before the incident."
"Well I…"
"And it was at your house, at your party. If it wasn't you doing it, then why didn't you try and stop it?" The look she gave him now was far worse than all the others. It wasn't the look of anger or a cold look. No, it instead was a look of disappointment. "I thought you were better than that…"
"I am better than that! I would never have done anything like that to you. And Reiner, well he was going to do it anyways. All I did was talk to Armin, Reiner was the one who actually threw him into the lake," Jean says, reaching a hand out like she had done to Armin earlier that day—she backs away.
Mikasa points at him with anger. "This is why everyone thinks you're such a pretentious asshole! You never own up to any of your shit, and you're always blaming other people for your mistakes. Yeah, Reiner was the one who threw Armin in the lake, but you helped and cheered him on the whole time," She paused, shaking her head. "At this point, you should have just thrown me in your damn lake."
His eyes start to water as he whispers quietly, "I'm sorry, Mikasa."
Mikasa shakes her head. "I don't want your goddamn apology, if you really want to apologize to someone, apologize to Armin." And after that, they don't speak to each other for the rest of the class.
Jean didn't realize how the guilt and that look really got to him until the end of the day when he found himself in front of Armin himself. He doesn't do it for just her but also for himself as he says, "Sorry." Something that isn't a lie.