I'm back with my first update after the new year. Yay.

I'm almost at 500 hits on ao3, and it only took me two months to get there. Impressive, right?

No, actually, that's pretty sad and I'm lying to myself.

Now that The October Story is finished, I'll finally be able to focus all of my fanfic efforts on this one. So, hopefully from this point onward, I'll be able to post a new chapter more than once every two months. If it were that infrequent, it would take a rather long time for the entire story to get posted, wouldn't it?

A little disclaimer: Like I said in the final note of the last chapter, this one might be a little unrealistic in terms of what people are able to do when coping with something as debilitating as what most of the characters in this story have to deal with. But apparently Hazel Grace was well enough for international travel, and I think that she was a little worse off than Eren currently is. I just hope I'm not messing with the accuracy too much.

I don't know what else to write, so it's time for plugs again. My tumblr is asking-appelia (still a work in progress, I'm sorry) and this story's tags are "fic: tmiu" "fic: the monsters inside us" and i've decided to forget about "fic: tmi" since I recently figured out that can stand for other fictions that have nothing to do with this. *cough*The Mortal Instruments*cough* Also if you want, feel free to leave a review on this chapter, bookmark it, follow it (I'm trying to straddle two separate fanfic sites here), whatever.

Someone on one of the sites was a little concerned about the relationship between Eren and his dad. The only answer I can give them for now is my usual advice: Wait it out. I know details about the way things are between the two of them are more than a little foggy right now, but they'll clear up eventually.

Also, some whiny little bastard on one of these sites wants to know why I rated the fic M if nothing is specifically M-rated is happening. My only answer is GODDAMMIT, HE IS SIXTEEN, HOW FAST DO YOU EXPECT HIM TO MOVE?

That will be all.

Story time.

Things with the support group started out rocky, at best. At the outset, I hated it with the flaming passion of a thousand burning then... I didn't. Over the span of what couldn't have been more than three weeks, my whole opinion of the operation did a complete 180. First the angsty hatred faded into indifference, and then before I knew it I had begun to- dared I even say it- enjoy going to the meetings. Aside from hiding in my room and flooding my consciousness with replayed TV shows and movies, I might have even called it my favorite thing to do.

Then again, it was really the only thing that I did.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were pretty much the only days that I ever did anything other than stay home and amuse myself for hours on end. The only exceptions were the days that my tutor came in for a visit. Even those happened far less often than they did during Mikasa's school year, since he also provided summer-school teaching services to kids who were behind in their education for reasons different from mine. Then there was my monthly Rosevelin infusion in July. I didn't know why they were still giving it to me. I thought that since my leukemia cells had gotten loose the previous summer, the medication had stopped working. But apparently it was still proving itself effective, since after they had brought the dosage up I'd been in remission for... what was it, a year?

It was the same routine every week. Monday: nothing. Tuesday: support group. Wednesday: nothing while anticipating next support group. Thursday: support group. Friday and everything that came after it: nothing. And so on until the week started over again.

The more meetings I went to, the less resentment I held for the YCSG. I had Armin there. He was always a nice day-brightener. I had also managed to pick up a few other cancer buddies along the way. Marco had been quick to reach out. I always had a feeling that he would be. He was the first name in my contact list after Armin, making it just a touch less sad. Reiner turned out to be just as friendly as Armin had said. Really friendly. So fucking friendly that it actually creeped me out a little. But no one else in the support group seemed to mind. They had all sort of adopted him as their communal big brother, since he played the part so naturally. I figured that the discomfort was just me being antisocial and not giving him a chance. Bertolt gave me his cell number shortly after his boyfriend had broken into Eren's little circle of friendship. Once word had gotten out that I was no longer guarding my personal space with my life, Hanji, Connie and Sasha practically threw their phone numbers at me. Krista was next in line, then Ymir with some gentle motivation from Krista. Only Annie and Jean stayed out of my contact list, either for their reasons or my own. It would have only made sense for Levi to be next, but I could never get up the nerve to ask him. He probably would have said no anyway.

After the eventful meeting where half of the exchange went down in a single hour, I realized that the YCSG was the only place I knew of where I had friends outside of my own family. That was also the day when I finally decided to stop pretending that I didn't like the group and just accept the fact that whatever it was doing was probably the best thing for me.

The support group seemed to be having the exact opposite effect on Mikasa. The enthusiasm she'd shown in dragging me to the first few meetings faded fast. Before my indifference turned, she was at just about the same level of excitement as me. She didn't seem to be getting anything out of the meetings, and I knew well enough that she had better things that she could have been doing. I was surprised she was even still coming to the meetings with me anymore, what with Jean throwing himself at her ten ways from Tuesday. Or Thursday. Either one.

And then there was the issue of Levi.

I didn't know. That was all I could ever say when it came to him. As far as I was concerned, Levi was a living puzzle. I hardly knew anything about him, other than the fact that he was an LPN. I didn't even know how old he was, although I couldn't really be sure why the question bothered me so much. I tried talking to him a few times. And, on occasion, he did the same for me. I had no way of knowing if he ever felt as awkward as I did when we were together. He was never exactly what you'd call expressive. I was still questioning whether I wanted to reconnect with him or not. I had been ever since Mikasa had brought it up. Of course, that past summer Levi had been the closest thing I'd had to a friend in years. But I had sort of forgotten him after I left Trost. Something told me that he had done the same.

Support group meetings were usually made up of free snacks, one-on-one time with Armin, watching Jean attempt to get with my sister, getting into the circle, discussing our feelings for an hour, sometimes a writing assignment from Hanji, and finally breaking the circle up and hanging around outside until our rides home showed up, since a grand total of four of us actually had a driver's license. Sometimes Levi would follow me outside. Then we'd stand around and talk until my dad or whoever happened to be taking us home showed up. I still couldn't figure out why he did that for me. But I appreciated it when he did.

It was the Thursday meeting of the second week in July. As usual, we were all gathered in the circle, and someone or other was in the middle of talking about their traumatic childhood experiences at some sleepaway camp for cancer kids. I was busy half-listening to the story and half-thanking the cosmos that my dad, even with all his shortcomings, was anything but smothering and hadn't subjected me to the kind of bullshit that the narrator had to suffer. And then Jean, with his impeccable timing, decided to cut them off just as the story was getting interesting.

"Hey, guys, I've sort of got an announcement to make," he said. "Just saying, so once the story is wrapped up-"

"Okay, Jean. You'll get your turn. Now shut up."

Jean sighed before shutting his mouth and sinking back into his seat. I glanced over at the nurse across the circle. Levi always had the best way of cutting Jean down to size.

Once the story was over, Jean didn't spare a second before standing up again. "Okay. Now that that's over with..."

The support group turned their attention to Jean, some more reluctantly than others. I could have sworn that I saw him look directly at Mikasa before he began.

"I just wanted to let everyone here know that I'm going to be having a party at my place this Sunday. It starts at three and we haven't figured out an ending time yet, so I guess that means you can leave whenever you feel like it. It'll be a pool party, so if you're going, you might just want to keep that in mind..." I caught him glancing at Mikasa again. I had the briefest thought of Jean seeing my sister in a bathing suit before it was overtaken by a sudden urge to pick him up and throw him through the window. "If you're interested, come see me after the meeting and I'll give you my phone number. If you don't have it already, that is. I'm gonna need all the RSVPs by Saturday, though, so if you haven't made up your mind, make it up fast."

Jean sat back down, and the support group discussions continued as if nothing had happened at all. I stared venomously at him for most of the remainder of the meeting. He'd sounded so sure of himself when he told the group about the party, as if he expected everyone to throw themselves at his feet at the end of his speech and start thanking him for the invitations. Sometimes I honestly had to wonder exactly who Jean Kirschtein thought he was.

Four in the afternoon arrived right on schedule. I spent my regular few minutes talking with people from that day's group. Armin was off in a corner with Annie again. It was the fourth time I had seen it happen. I made a mental note to ask him about it sometime. It made me curious as to what they talked about while they were over there by themselves. Or texted about. Since, you know, Annie couldn't really do much talking.

With Armin unavailable, I was left with Marco, Reiner and Bertolt for the day. And being with Marco, despite all its merits, unfortunately increased the risk of Jean.

Sure enough, Jean decided to strike.

"So, Jaeger," he said, sidling up behind me and breaking into our conversation as if he belonged there.

I glanced sideways at him and spat, "The fuck do you want?"

"Hey. What's with the hostility?" he said defensively. "I was just going to ask whether or not you were planning on attending."

He didn't even mention what "attending" was. He'd just expected me to know what he was talking about. Of course, I did know. But I decided to play dumb anyway.

"Attending what?"

"The party, numbskull. The thing I got up in front of the entire group to talk about. Remember?"

"Oh. You mean the ploy to see Mikasa with her clothes off?" I scoffed. "Yeah. Of course I remember."

Redness flared up in Jean's face. "Okay, first of all, I don't know what kind of pervert you take me for, but whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. Second, I am not doing this because of her. I throw parties every summer. Because people like them. And because I have friends, because unlike you, I'm not an antisocial jerk."

"But seeing her in spandex would be a nice plus, wouldn't it?" I shot back.

"Eren, I swear to god if you are even thinking of getting betwee-"

"Okay, Jean, that's enough," Marco said, taking a step towards Jean and putting his hands on his shoulders. "Calm down. Eren's not thinking of doing anything. You know, I had this idea that maybe on Saturday, I could come with you to..." I lost the rest of Marco's statement as he steered Jean away from us and towards the door. The tension in the air dissolved into relief.

And the day was saved once again, thanks to the Freckled Messiah.

"He's a bit touchy today, isn't he?" Bertolt said once Jean was out of earshot.

"A bit? More like several thousand," Reiner replied.

I shook my head and stared after Jean and Marco as they retreated to the other end of the room. "It's like he doesn't realize it's my sister he's talking about."

"Yeah. Jean's always been a little desperate like that," Reiner said.

I turned back to him. "He has?"

"Yeah. Definitely. There was this NEC girl that joined the group that he was hitting on last year. He threw one of his parties, she decided to come, then, well... She stopped showing up to meetings after that."

I suppressed another cringe attack. There were way too many implications that came with that fun little fact. "Does he actually throw those parties every summer?"

"Of course." Bertolt looked as if he were shocked that I didn't know. "I'm surprised he wasn't hosting one sooner. His lives in the same town as this place. Have you ever seen Trost? Other than the hospital, I mean."

Images of massive million-dollar houses, expansive lawns decorated with Sina University merchandise and overpriced-boutique-lined streets immediately came to mind. Of course I had seen the rest of Trost. I drove through it every time I came to visit this hellhole. "Yeah. It must where all the rich doctors who work here live or something like that."

"Well, Jean's dad is one of those. He's in plastic surgery, and his mom is a pharmaceuticals CEO. Their place is huge. Literally almost everything you can imagine someone putting in a house, he has in his house. And it's never just the support group there. There are always other people. He usually invites people from Trost High. And then he sometimes has joint parties with his older sister."

"He has a sister?"

"Yeah. Her name's Nicole. She's a sophomore at Sina. She's probably told Levi and Hanji about the whole thing already."

"Wait a second," I cut in. Things were going too fast for me to keep up. "The admins know Jean's sister?"

"Yeah. Hanji told me about it after the first meeting," Reiner explained. "They all had biochemistry together last year or something, and as far as I know she's still talking to them. Besides, Nicole always invites her friends from Sina, so there'll be a good amount college chicks present, if you're interested." He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

This was too much. Reiner's words were going straight over my head. "I'll think about it," I noncommittally replied.

"Cool," Reiner replied, giving me an approving nod. He glanced sideways at Bertolt. "I'm definitely going. It's about time Jean hosted one of these damn things. What about you, Bert?"

Bertolt gave Reiner a confirmative smile. He hadn't even needed to ask. I failed to the hold back the memory of them making out against Reiner's Neon and asked, "So does the entire support group always go?"

"Usually," Bertolt answered. "Kirschtein parties are a pretty big deal."

"He thinks everything in his life is a pretty big deal."

"Yeah, but when it comes to his parties, it's actually true."

I dug my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. We'd been standing around for almost an extra five minutes. Levi would start snapping at us if we didn't pick up and leave soon. And if that weren't all I had to worry about, my dad might have actually showed up on time today and be waiting for me outside. I wasn't sure if he'd be annoyed with me if I made him wait, but it was always possible that he might be. I gave Reiner and Bertolt a tiny wave. "See you guys at later," I said. It took every ounce of self control I had not to say See you gays later instead.

"See you," Bertolt responded, one arm already around Reiner's waist.

"Remember," Reiner added. "The party! RSVP by Saturday!"

I nodded and went out into the hallway. Mikasa and Armin were standing around outside. I assumed that they had been waiting for me. "Hey," I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets as we started towards the entrance. "Sorry I took so long."

"It's no big deal," Armin said. "We were only out here for a minute or two."

"What were you doing hanging around in there?" my sister asked.

"Getting harassed by Jean." I stared straight ahead, pure resentment displayed plainly on my face. I heard Mikasa scoff in response. "He apparently thinks that party invitations are his gift to humanity."

"Tell me about it." I heard her voice drop into a low-pitched, shitty imitation of Jean's. "So you're coming to the party, right? Not to brag, but it's going to be pretty amazing. It's only the biggest event of the year since the fucking Oscars."

"So he was on your ass about it too, huh?"

I glanced over at her. Her face was almost a mirror image of my own. "Yeah. In more ways that one."

I didn't even want to think about what she was implying through that word choice.

"Marco said he was going," Armin cut in.

"Of course he is," Mikasa retorted. "He's Jean's best friend. If he doesn't go, who will?"

"Reiner. And Bertolt. And Connie and Sasha. Krista, too. Annie said she was thinking of going, but she's not really sure."

"Really? Because I'm not so sure that Annie said anything."

Armin glared at me. I grinned back at him.

"I still don't know if I want to go or not," Mikasa said, looking ahead of us towards the cancer center entrance. "I mean, from what the others have told me, it's usually a pretty good time. But then there's..." She trailed off, biting her lip as she stared straight ahead.

"Jean," I finished for her.

She nodded. "Jean."

We left the conversation at that as we crossed through the sliding glass doors and stepped outside into the late afternoon sunlight. Despite my worries from before, my dad's car was nowhere to be seen. Neither was grandpa Arlert's. After a minute of comfortable silence out in front of the hospital, Armin spoke up again.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm thinking of going."

I glanced sideways at him. "You are?"

"Yeah. Why not?" He looked over at me, his blue eyes bright.

"I guess you're right. Pretty much everyone else is going." I shifted uncomfortably against the wall. I wasn't sure why I even felt uncomfortable enough to do it in the first place. It wasn't like he expected me to go with him, was it?

And Jean was going to be there. I wasn't about to force Mikasa to come with me if I suddenly decided on a fickle, unexplainable whim that I wanted to attend. But she would probably come anyway. She tended to do that sort of thing on her own. And she liked Jean just about as much as I did. Probably less.

And Reiner had said that Jean's sister went to Sina, right? Didn't I know someone else from there? I dug around in my head for that conversation, but only bits and pieces turned up.

All the same, I suddenly really, really wanted to go to Jean Kirschtein's party.

An unusually short four and a half minutes later, grandpa Arlert's Accord pulled into the parking lot. Armin gave us a quick goodbye and made me promise to text him once I'd made up my mind about Jean's party. Then it was just me and Mikasa. We stood around outside for a while longer, baking in the irritatingly warm sunlight and talking about everything but Jean's party. I checked my phone after a few minutes had passed. Then Mikasa checked hers. Then I checked mine. Then I checked it again.

It was almost 4:45. My dad was still nowhere in sight.

Whatever. He was bound to show up soon.

Sometime.

Eventually.

God fucking dammit, where the hell is he?"Oi. What are you two still doing here?"

I tensed up at the sound of a razor-edged voice that I had recently learned to recognize again. My head whipped around towards the door. The panels of glass had slid open and Levi was standing between them. He had the plastic bags that had brought that day's snack contribution to the meeting looped over one arm, the containers inside crushed and empty. He took a step forward and the doors slid shut behind him. "Hey. I asked you a question, brat."

Mikasa answered for me, seeming to miss Levi's use of my adorable little pet name. "Waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"Our dad was supposed to pick us up over half an hour ago and hasn't shown up yet."

All of a sudden Levi's steely gaze started to soften up. "Oh. He hasn't?"

"No," I replied before Mikasa could. Judging by the look on her face, she still hadn't gotten past the kinda-hot-but-also-a-total-dick first impression that Levi had given her during my liver surgery summer. My awkwardly told story from Armin's visit two weeks ago didn't seem to have swayed her at all. "Both of us have tried texting him, but he won't answer and his phone keeps going to voicemail."

"My. That's unfortunate," Levi said. His deadpan voice almost covered up the split-second flash of pity I had seen earlier. Before any of us could say another word, he had spun around on his heel and started walking away. He disappeared around the corner, leaving us helpless to do anything but stare after him.

Mikasa set her teeth and let out a long, growling sigh. "What. A piece. Of shit."

I shrugged, tugging out my phone to check the time again. "Well, that's Levi for you."

"What's his problem?" she snipped, even though I thought the conversation was over. It was 4:52. This had to be some kind of record. "Did he just come out here to make fun of us or something?"

"Probably not. There's a dumpster where he was headed, and he was carrying bags."

"But he didn't have to be so snobby about it."

"What, taking out the trash?"

"No. Asking why we're stuck standing around in front of a fucking hospital," she answered roughly. She dug her phone out of her messenger bag and unlocked the screen. "4:53. And he hasn't even texted me back yet." She sighed and put her phone back. "It's like he's on the goddamn moon or something."

A second later, Levi reappeared at the corner of the building, the plastic bags no longer present. He kept his eyes down as he slowly approached, not regarding either me or Mikasa until he was in front of the doors again.

"What, you two are still here?" he asked as they slid open for him.

Once again, Mikasa answered before I had the chance. "Yeah," she snapped, her eyes flickering up to glare daggers at him. "And if you're going to make another douchebrained comment about how pitiful we look standing here, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and keep walking."

Levi blinked and raised his eyebrows at her. "Whoa. I don't recall pissing in your coffee this morning."

"We've just been waiting around for a long time," I cut in before Mikasa could snap at him again, which she certainly would if given the chance. I made a show of taking my phone out and checking it for the thirty-seventh time. "Our dad's never usually this late."

Levi stood with his arms crossed over his chest, biting his lip and looking the both of us over like a bird watching chipmunks scamper around on the ground with a hungry cat nearby. I wished desperately that his face could be a little less impassive, even just for a second, to let me in on what was going through his head. He stood there so long that the doors of the entrance slid shut again. A moment later, he uncrossed his arms. "My shift ends at five," he said.

I blinked at him, my face screwing up in confusion. "What?"

"My shift ends at five," he repeated. "I'm getting let out early today. I can give you guys a ride home, if you wouldn't mind waiting around for another five minutes."

I almost collapsed from the sudden wave of relief that washed through me. "We've been out here for almost an hour," I replied. "Five minutes is nothing at this point."

Levi nodded. "Okay. I'll be back in a bit." He stepped back, letting the doors register him and slide open again. "You know how to get back to your place from here, right?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Y-yes, I think so," I said. I had taken that trip so many times that if I didn't know it by heart, I either had to be blind or just really, really inattentive. Probably both.

"Good." With that, Levi disappeared into the hospital and the entrance doors slid shut behind him.

Mikasa stared after him for a second before turning her gaze to me. The charcoal in her eyes had turned into dark grey poison. "Why did you do that?" she demanded.

"What are you pissed off at me for?" I asked in response. "I don't see any other way of getting back home."

"Yeah. Now. But what about later?" she retorted. "What if he's on his way here and his phone is just dead or something? He'll show up and there will be no one here."

"Mikasa, it's been an hour. I'm pretty sure he's not coming."

"So you'd rather just take a ride home from the bitchy nurse?"

"Yes."

Mikasa scoffed, folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against the wall. "I can not believe you are making us get into a car with him."

"Well, too bad. You're going to have to."

"Do you even remember what an absolute clean freak this guy is? He probably has plastic coverings on the seats and rules about where we can put our feet or something."

"Come on, Mikasa. Just this once. It's a fifteen minute drive from here back to the house. And then we'll forget any of this happened and never get a ride from Levi again."

My sister growled under her breath and looked away in defeat. "Fine. Just this once."

A few short minutes later, the cancer center doors slid open again and Levi came traipsing through. "Alright, this way," he commanded, not even offering us a sideways glance. I could practically feel the resentment coming off of Mikasa in waves as we listlessly obeyed Levi's orders. I kept up with his unusually fast pace and Mikasa lagged behind. It took a full minute of staring at Levi from behind to realize that something was different.

"What happened to your clothes?"

"I changed," Levi answered flatly. "What, did you think that I wear just scrubs all the time?"

"N-no, I just... wasn't expecting it." The unanticipated wardrobe swap seemed to have changed Levi into a completely different person. I was surprised that I hadn't noticed sooner. He'd switched out his boxy, generic mint-green scrubs for a vintage grey Rolling Stones shirt, well-worn navy blue Converse and a pair of distressed black jeans that he would probably have to peel off that night. He'd layered a broken-in green plaid flannel over it all, one that looked so comfortable that I had to fight the urge to snatch it off of him and bury my face in it. When he wasn't in scrubs, Levi actually looked pretty approachable. What Mikasa had said to me a year earlier was finally starting to make sense (if it hadn't already).

Contrary to Mikasa's prediction, there were no plastic covers on the seats of Levi's bright green Kia Soul. He never once mentioned anything about feet placement, either. I slid into the front seat, letting Mikasa keep as much of her distance as the tiny juicebox of a car would allow. I twisted my neck around to glance into the back seat as she clambered in behind me and nodded towards the plastic-free seats. She rolled her eyes and took her phone out, letting me know that she had understood me perfectly.

"So," Levi said as he dropped into the driver's seat and stuck his key into the ignition. "You know how to get us back, right?"

"Yeah. First you take a right out of the parking lot, then it's a while before you have to do anything else." Levi pulled out of his parking space, then we were out on the road and Trost was disappearing behind us.

The drive home was mediocre, as far as car trips go. The silence that pervaded the car wasn't 100% awkward, but it definitely wasn't as comfortable as it could have been. Mikasa and her steady glowering from the backseat harbored most of the blame for that. Levi seemed to be twitching in his seat the entire time, his fingers clamped tightly around the wheel. Mikasa's eyes were probably burning holes in the back of his seat. Then, on top of everything else, the car was constantly lurching around sudden stops and turns taken a split second too late. Most of that was my fault, though. I wasn't the best at giving clear directions until approximately three seconds before they had to be carried out.

Fifteen disconcerted minutes later, we were back in the driveway of our house and Levi was shifting the car into park. He pulled the parking brake back and looked over at me. "This is the place, right?" he asked in a spectacular monotone.

"Yeah, it is. Thanks," I murmured as I reached for my seatbelt. "I don't know how we would have gotten home without you." Well, that came out a little more gratifying than I had hoped.

"Don't mention it, brat," he said. "Now get out of my car."

"Will do, nurseman," I said, grinning. I stepped out of the car before Levi could retaliate and slammed the door shut just as he was opening his mouth. "See you later!" I shouted at him through the glass.

"Later will be too soon, brat!" he tossed back. Then he took his parking brake off, rolled out of the driveway and disappeared around a curve in the road.

"Well, that could have gone better."

I turned around to see Mikasa standing in the middle of the driveway, her arms once again folded tightly over her chest and her phone clenched in one hand. "Yeah, it definitely could have," I agreed, although I was pretty sure that her reasons were completely different from mine.

"What was with the snap decision to get a ride home from nurseman, anyway?" she asked, tapping furiously at her phone with her thumbs. "You just jumped at him the second he asked. It was kind of weird."

"I don't know. Maybe I just didn't want to be waiting out in front of Trost until the sun went down."

"It's the middle of summer, Eren. The sun won't be down for another four hours."

"I know. But who's to say we wouldn't have been waiting that long?" I cautiously approached her and leaned over her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Texting Dad," she said coldly.

"What's he saying?"

"Well, he finally got the text that I sent him forty-five minutes ago." She sighed, locked her phone and slid it back into her pocket. "One of his lab partners was out sick today and he had her on speakerphone for the first two hours of the day or something. Anyway, his phone died, so he left it in his office to charge and he hadn't picked it up again until now."

"He's not on his way to Trost or anything, is he?"

"No. He's still at the lab."

Dad hadn't even left work. Big surprise there.

"Hey, Mikasa, what do we have in the fridge?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm starving. And I have no idea if there's anything that either of us know how to cook hanging around."

"Okay. I'm kinda hungry too, I guess. We should probably check it out."

She started toward the door and I followed behind, grateful to have steered the conversation away from my dad's absence.

Two hours later, I was lying around in my room and staring at my phone.

It wasn't an unfamiliar position for me. I'd been stuck like this loads of times before. Well, loads of times in the past few weeks, to be accurate. I'd hardly even used my phone before joining the YCSG. I didn't have anyone to text other than Mikasa. My dad hardly ever answered his phone, so I never saw the point in trying to contact him. Most of the lying and phone staring was done while debating whether or not to text Armin and complain to him about how angsty I was feeling. I did that more times than I would ever care to admit.

But this time, it wasn't Armin I was battling my inner demons over. It was someone who I had never even considered texting before. To be specific, someone who had been bothering me about texting him all afternoon. And someone whose number I deliberately didn't have programmed into my phone.

But the only reason I wanted to make even the most remote form of contact possible with Jean was because of that stupid party he was throwing.

I had been arguing with myself all night. I hadn't been able to stop, even after Mikasa and I had given up on trying to cook and decided to order the cheapest takeout we could find. As of now, it had been going on for almost four hours. It was longer than I had ever spent debating nonstop about anything in my life. Well, except one thing. That one thing was Levi. But then, he'd become sort of a constant debate topic in the back of my mind/ He had been out of the running for a while.

I did not want to go to this stupid party at all. Jean was going to be hosting, and if there was anything I knew about Jean, it was that he was probably the worst excuse for a human being on the face of the earth. He hated my guts for no apparent reason, and I wouldn't have put it past him to devise some convoluted plot to embarrass me at the party on Sunday if I happened to turn up. Not to mention the fact that he felt the exact opposite way about my sister. If she showed up along with me, which she definitely would if I said I was going, he would probably be harassing her the entire time. No matter how I tried, I couldn't push away the images of Jean throwing tacky pickup lines at Mikasa in every other sentence, touching her everywhere that wasn't covered by her bathing suit, sliding his hands under the already scanty spandex, taking her up to his room in the middle of the party and locking the door, and an infinite supply of other horrors that I couldn't even bring myself to specify. Aside from all of this, I was still obscenely inexperienced in the realm of human interaction. My social life had been all but six feet under for years. I wasn't sure if attending the YCSG counted as having one either.

But that gave me all the more reason to get some practice, didn't it?

The rest of the support group had seemed pretty excited about it. Despite all his inherent douchiness, Jean appeared to have made a name for himself in the hosting department. And Armin had decided to go. If everything else went to shit, I could always spend the party with him. And hadn't Reiner said something about Nicole inviting a handful of college buddies from Sina?
I clicked the lock button on my phone, tapped my passcode, stared at the empty message screen, and locked it again a second later. I did not want to go to this party. Not at all. But at the same time, I would have given whatever was left of my liver to go.

What would I even say to him in the RSVP? I thought, flipping my phone over and over in my fingers. Should I be all concise and formal about it, or would that just make it look like I have a stick up my ass? There was no way I could get into contact with him, anyway. I didn't have Jean's phone number.

I did know someone who might.

But I also didn't know how willing she would be to give it to me.

I stuck my phone into my pocket, swung my legs over the side of my bed and walked over to my doorway. I leaned out and took a deep breath. "MIKASAAAAA!"

A second later, she poked her face out of her door down the hallway. Her kohl eyeliner had been smudged off, and her hair was tangled into a jet-black rat's nest. "WHAT?" she shouted back to me.

"What are you doing in there?" I asked, my voice returned to a normal volume.

"Girl things," she grumbled, stepping out into the hallway. "It's none of your business."

"So... jilling off, then?"

She sighed longer and more heavily than any human ever should. "You're gross."

"Hey. It happens. It's no big deal."

"I wasn't. End of story."

"Did you clean up afterwards, at least?"

"I said end of story. What did you call me out here for?"

I stepped out to meet her halfway. "I wanted to ask you something. For something, actually."

Mikasa blinked, interest piquing in her expression. "What is it?"

"Well, you remember the thing that everyone was talking about at YCSG today?"

Mikasa tensed up, her eyes fixing on me and slowly filling with bitterness. "You're not."

I pursed my lips and sighed. "I am."

"Why the hell would you want to go to something like this?"

I stared blankly at her for a second, not entirely sure how to respond. I had been asking myself that question for hours, and I hadn't been able to come up with a single answer. "To be honest, Mikasa... I have no fucking clue."

"And now you're coming to me, hoping that I have Jean's phone number and that I will somehow be willing to give it to you so that you can say yes to the invitation and go to his stupid pool party at his Trost McMansion."

I nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Mikasa fixed her hands on her hips and pinned me with her gaze. "Give me one good reason why I should."

"Armin will be there," I offered sheepishly, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

Her stony posture softened up. She removed her hands from her hips and slid one into her pocket. "Okay."

Her answer blindsided me like a car without headlights. "What?"

"I said okay," Mikasa reiterated, taking her phone out and tapping at the screen. "I'll give you Jean's phone number. Go ahead and tell him that you want to attend his grand spectacular shindig or whatever the hell he's decided to call it."

She reached her arm out and offered her phone to me. I mechanically took it from her and stared at the screen. A strange number was displayed across the middle, and Jean's name was at the top, punctuated nicely with a (do not call EVER). "Thanks," I mumbled, more confused than I ever thought I could be.

"Don't thank me. It's not a big deal," Mikasa said, shooting everything she'd said before into one massive paradox. "Just do me one favor."

I looked up at her. "What is it?"

"Let him know that I'll be coming too."

The same car that had mowed me down before had come back for sloppy seconds. "You want me to what now?"

"I'm not going to text him myself," Mikasa said, shrugging her shoulders in a what-the-fuck-were-you-expecting gesture. "Do you think I want him to save me into his contacts and start spamming me with texts every hour of every day?"

"But why would you-"

"What are you, stupid?" Mikasa tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at me. "You're socially inept, Eren. I'm not going to let you run out on your own and commit social suicide. I'm coming along to make sure you don't wind up on a flagpole or in prison or something. Comprende?"

"Si, señorita," I replied. Well, that went faster than I had expected. I knew she was going to want to come with me, but I hadn't expected her to make up her mind so fast. I looked back down at the phone in my hand. "Hold on a second."

"What is it now?"

"Why did you have Jean's number in the first place?"

Mikasa shot me a dead-faced stare. "Because I could only run for so long."

"Okay." I started backing away and retreating back to my room. "I'll tell Jean we'll be there on Sunday. Maybe we can catch a ride from Armin or something."

Mikasa nodded in agreement. "Yeah. As long as the Arlert Accord is still running by then." She started back towards her room, but stopped and glanced back at me once she'd reached the door. "And don't you dare text Jean from my phone."

"I won't."

"Good. Because if he starts spamming me, you'll be in the hospital on Sunday instead of at his party. Understand?"

I kept my mouth shut and nodded. Over the years, I've learned that when Mikasa promises you an injury, you take her seriously. Because if you don't... Well, this is a story about cancer, not concussions.

Without another word, Mikasa slipped back into her room and shut the door. I did the same. I sat back down on my bed, both our phones splayed out in front of me. I opened up a new contact slot and punched Jean's name and number in, taking care to add Scumbag to his title. Then I opened up a new message and typed his name into the send to bar.

Me: you win. i'm going to your stupid party. i hope you're happy now.

His response came flying at me before even a minute had gone by.

Jean Scumbag Kirschtein: Too bad, guest list is almost full. Nicoles got friends too and our house only has so much space.

Me: oh i forgot to mention Mikasa is going too.

I smirked to myself as the message loaded and sent.

Jean's reply came in a few minutes later.

Jean Scumbag Kirschtein: My address is 563 Leto Avenue in Trost.

Jean Scumbag Kirschtein: Party starts at 3 PM. Show up as late as you want because no one really gives a shit.

Sunday couldn't have come soon enough.

After waking up earlier than usual (meaning around 10 AM), I immediately threw myself out of bed, ran downstairs, downed a bowl of cereal and went straight back to my room to start throwing my bag together to bring to Jean's. I may not have been to a party since middle school, but I still knew that pool party attendance required a little more preparation than most. After cramming an extra shirt and pair of shorts into a complementary sports bag from some cancer fundraising event I was dragged to god knows how many years ago, I ripped my pajamas off and got dressed. I checked my phone halfway through to see that Armin had sent me a text shortly before I had woken up.

Armin: Hey. I looked up Jeans address last night. We'll be stopping by to pick you up at 2:30. Can u be ready by then?

I quickly typed in my response.

Me: Yea totally. Did u txt mikasa?

Armin: Yep. She knows when I'll be there. You know, just in case u forget

Me: Stfu. I'm not that bad.

Armin: You sometimes are :/

Me: Fine be that way. See u l8r nerd

Armin: Having a giant Sherlock poster in my room does not make me a nerd!

Armin: Ok maybe a little.

I laughed to myself and placed my phone back on my dresser. I'd pulled on a pair of swim trunks and an old 2004 Linkin Park shirt while texting. I glanced at my digital clock, even though I had just checked the time on my phone. It was 10:35. I still had more than 4 hours left. I turned on my laptop and decided to scroll through Tumblr to pass the time, fastening my headphones over my ears to drown out the world and try to calm myself down.

I was so excited for Jean's stupid party that I couldn't even stand it. But at the same time, I was dreading it more than I had dreaded my first surgery. I had hardly thought about anything else in the past few days. Mainly because there wasn't much else to think about, but that was beside the point. I hadn't been to any kind of social gathering since my relapse in freshman year. And I knew, somewhere deep in my soul, that this was not going to be just a handful of kids gathered in the same place. Reiner and Bertolt's enthusiasm over the whole affair had assured me of that. This was going to be a real party. And I had no idea what the hell I was getting myself into.

Not only was I walking in blind, but there was also Jean to contend with. And Mikasa had to contend with him as well.

But Reiner had said Nicole was bringing friends from Sina. And for some reason, the mention of Sina made the excitement come bubbling back up and turned the dread into some kind of twisted emotional cocktail that felt nothing but disorienting. And no matter how I tried, I couldn't remember why.

The smattering of hours spiraled away as I scrolled, my thoughts bouncing back and forth inside my skull. Jean. Mikasa. Social anxiety. Sina. I couldn't decide which issue I wanted to work out first, so in the end, I didn't work any of them out. Before I was anywhere near ready, I felt the faint vibrations of an outdated engine traveling through the house. I had somehow managed to spend the entire four hours between checking the time and Armin's arrival scrolling through Tumblr and worrying.

"Eren!" Mikasa shouted at me from the kitchen. "Armin's here! You ready to go?"

I scrambled to my feet, slung my party pack over my shoulder and staggered to the stairs. "Yeah, I am! Be right there!"

I made it downstairs just in time to hear Armin's signature timid-mouse knock and see Mikasa opening the door for him.

"Hey, guys," he said, flashing us an excited smile. "You all set?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Let's just leave and get this over with. The anticipation is killing-"

My sentence dropped dead when my eyes landed on Mikasa. She looked over at me and cocked her head to the side. "What is it?"

"That's what you're wearing?"

Mikasa looked down at herself. She was wearing tattered jean shorts, a blue and yellow tribal bikini top, and... and nothing else. "What, is there something wrong with it?"

"I thought we were supposed to be avoiding getting you sexually harassed by Jean," I pointed out, thankfully able to keep my eyes where they belonged. "You're pretty much stapling a hit on me sign to your forehead."

"This was just what I wanted to wear, and I'm not going to let him limit me. Is there something wrong with that?"

Armin hummed in agreement and looked to me. "She's got a point."

"I guess she does," I acquiesced. "But you brought something to cover up in case he-"

"Of course I did. I'm a big girl now, Eren. I can dress myself."

"Alright, alright, I get it. Sorry for caring." I sighed and started toward the door. The three of us walked outside, piled into the Arlert Accord and started off towards Trost.

Jean's house wasn't exactly a house. It was really more of a manor. The whole thing was three stories tall and the size of probably four of my houses. It had wide, white-framed windows, a beige stucco arch over the front door and walls comprised of bricks in a charming variety of browns. I could hear the distant sounds of music and voices drifting around from the backyard. When Bertolt had been obsessing over Jean's house, he hadn't been exaggerating in the least.

My hand hovered in front of the doorbell, still hesitating. There really wasn't any point to it anymore. I had decided to go through with this a solid three days earlier and the Arlert Accord was long gone. There was no going back.

I was going to fuck this all up so badly. I just knew it.

"What are you waiting for? Just ring the doorbell already," Mikasa chided behind me.

I took a deep breath and pressed it. The tinny, muffled chimes seeped through the solid oak door. I caught a glimpse of movement behind the frosted glass window before the latch clicked and the door swung open. A tall, skinny Barbie doll of a girl stood in the doorway. She was sporting a Sina softball tee shirt over her bikini, and her ash blonde hair was tied back, revealing the dark brown shade underneath. She looked us over with her narrow hazel eyes. "You're... Jean's friends, right?"

I tried not to cringe at the subtle sneer in her voice. "Y-yeah, we are. He said we were coming, right?"

"Hold on a sec." The girl leaned away from the doorway and returned with a few sheets of printer paper. "What's your name?"

"Eren." I looked over my shoulder. "And that's Mikasa and Armin."

"Oh. Yeah, there you are," she said, tapping the paper. "Come on in. Put your stuff anywhere you won't forget it. Pool's out back, food is everywhere, go knock yourselves out." Without another word, she spun away and stalked off with her nose in the air, leaving the door wide open behind her.

That was Nicole Kirschtein. She was so similar to Jean I was surprised the two of them weren't twins.

Mikasa took the lead walking through the door. I followed, and Armin tagged along behind us, shutting the door in our path. The entire house was clogged with people, all of them either our age or slightly older. Mikasa practically had to carve a path through the crowd to see the rest of the house. I couldn't stop the shiver that crawled up my spine. I hated the feeling of being surrounded by strangers on all sides. We had yet to find anyone we recognized. And as far as I could tell, it would be a while before we would.

"Hey, guys! Guys, over here!"

My head snapped in the direction of the voice. An arm was flailing desperately around in the air, which was attached to the suntanned shoulder of a boy with a buzzcut and a stoner grin that looked like it would rip his face in half if it got any wider. It was Connie. He was sitting on the kitchen counter, Sasha hanging around nearby with an entire bowl of potato chips on hand. I sighed with relief and started forging a path towards them, Armin and Mikasa close behind.

"Connie!" I shouted out over the conversational hum.

"Eren!" he shouted back. "I didn't know you were going to show up!"

I slid up next to the counter and shrugged. "That's the thing. I wasn't."

"So why'd you change your mind all of a sudden?" Sasha asked around a mouthful of chips.

"Um..." I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. It seemed as if my brain had suddenly ceased to function. There was that question again. Why I changed my mind?

Thankfully, Armin and Mikasa caught up and saved me from myself.

"Hey, Connie. Sasha," Mikasa said, greeting them with a convincing smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

"That outfit is what's fancy," Sasha chirped, eyeing my sister's clothing (or lack of it). "Sweet top. You're from like, Final Fantasy or something."

Mikasa grinned victoriously and glanced at me. "Thanks. It's new."

"Any idea where we can put our stuff?" Armin asked, holding up the reusable Whole Foods bag he'd used to bring his change of clothes. "I don't want to be dragging this thing around for the entire party."

"We just put our stuff upstairs," Connie answered. "Jean's room is the second door on the right. No one's allowed to go up there, so we figured it was safe. I think the rest of the support group left their stuff in there too."

"Thanks," I said. I quickly turned away and started pushing my way through the crowd toward the stairs.

The sea of people started to thin out as I made my way up the staircase, completely disappearing by the time I reached the landing of the second floor. I glanced over my shoulder to see that Armin and Mikasa had decided to tag along. Connie had said the second room on the right was Jean's. I approached the appointed door, crossed my fingers in the hopes that he was busy somewhere else and slipped inside.

Jean's room wasn't anything special. Well, except for the giant flatscreen tv hanging on one wall, the polished black shelf of gaming and entertainment systems underneath it, the two extra doors that probably led to a personal bathroom and walk-in closet, and the fact that his bed was the size of a fucking meadow. Other than that, it wasn't anything special. Just as I'd suspected, there were a few bags and articles of clothing scattered across the grey plaid expanse of his comforter. I spied Annie's oversized grey sweatshirt thrown into the mix. Mikasa peeked through the door just as I was shrugging my party pack off.

"Well, someone's eager today," she said, walking in with Armin close behind.

"I just didn't want to be dragging this around," I replied, tossing my bag into the pile on Jean's bed. "I might as well have my hands free while I humiliate myself."

Mikasa rolled her eyes and threw her messenger bag at mine. "If you're going to be so negative about all of this, then why did you decide to go in the first place?"

I couldn't even guess which time it was that she'd asked me that question. I'd stopped bothering to count a long time ago. "Mikasa, we've been through this already."

"As long as we're here, we might as well have fun. I don't know how you're going to accomplish that with all the bitching and moaning you're doing."

"I'm not planning on bitching and moaning for the entire party," I retorted. "Just for right now."

Armin made his way over to the bed and dropped his bag next to ours. "Well, whenever you're done doing that, you want to come out back and see the pool? It's insane. It's like he has his own private resort. Jean's parents could probably start charging admission for people to come visit."

"Judging by the rest of their house, I don't think they'd need to."

"It's just a thought," he murmured, kicking his flip flops off. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, then balled it up and stuffed it into my bag. I heard Mikasa shuffling around on the other side of the room while she took her shorts off. I glanced over at Armin, noticing he hadn't made a single move.

"Hey. Aren't you going to get changed?"

"Me?" Armin squeaked as if the question surprised him. "U-um, I was actually thinking of just keeping my shirt on until I actually decided to go swimming. Just, you know, didn't really see a point in... um, walking around without it, you know?"

"I think someone's feeling self-conscious today," Mikasa teased, a smirk crossing her lips.

Armin's face flushed a faint shade of pink. "N-no, I just..."

"Hey, it's no big deal," I said. I flicked my hand at my stomach, pointing out an obvious, lumpy red line running across my skin. It was the liver surgery scar that I'd been putting up with for almost a year. "As you can tell, not everyone here is going to look perfect."

Armin sighed. "I know. But still-"

"Come on, Armin, it's a pool party. What were you expecting?"

"Jesus, Eren, just let the man keep his shirt on," Mikasa cut in. I turned to look at her and fought back the urge to scream. It was even worse without the shorts on. Jean would be all over her the second she stepped outside.

"Alright. But it's going to be super weird when he gets in the pool."

"Then maybe I just won't go swimming," Armin said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Please," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're tiny, you startle easily, and there's a pool out back. I'll give you half an hour before someone pushes you in."

Armin let out a frustrated whine. I stifled a laugh and caught Mikasa biting one back as well. The three of us left Jean's room and returned to the fray downstairs.

After a solid minute of pushing and shoving, we finally made it through the sliding glass door in the living room and stumbled outside. The patio and backyard weren't anywhere near as crowded as the house. I took a deep breath of the fresh, non-people-scented air, grateful that I finally had enough space to let my lungs expand. Then I saw the pool.

Armin was right. It was just like a resort. Actually, it was better, since there were no weird old people or obnoxious little kids running around. The pool was huge, probably a few hundred cubic feet at the least. And that wasn't even including the hot tub nearby, placed just above the pool with a tiny waterfall spilling over a miniature mountain of rocks from one into the other. Even if I had to spend the whole party dealing with Jean, this was going to be nice compensation.

"Hey! When did you guys get here?"

I whirled around at the sound of a bright, cheery voice. Marco's sweet brown eyes met with mine, accompanied by an engaging smile. My face immediately returned it, and I was just about to wave him over when my gaze lowered from his face. My brain went into a mental cringe before I could stop it.

He wasn't wearing a shirt. And his entire body was covered with scars.

I couldn't stop staring, no matter how hard I tried. His peachy, freckled skin was fraught with jagged lines. Some of them were dark and sunken, some rising up in lumpy white markings, and whatever was left covered every other description of scar tissue that would come up in an internet search. They were slashed into his flesh as if carved by a wild animal, pulling his normal skin taut between them and stretching it in ten directions at once. I felt a strange burning sensation in rising up the pit of my stomach, and my attention drew instinctively towards my own scar. But mine was nothing in comparison to what had happened to him.

Well, he had mentioned that half the organs in his body either weren't there or weren't his.

I choked down the traumatized gasp that had been coming up and forced my eyes back up to his face. "Marco!"

"Polo!" he laughed. "And there's actually a pool here this time."

Armin seemed to melt with relief as soon as our Freckled Savior was in sight. He shouted his name a second before surging forward and winding his skinny arms around his waist. Marco returned the hug without question. "Hey, Armin. Good to see you, too."

"Sorry. Just happy to see you," Armin explained bashfully as he pulled back. "I don't really do well around new people." His eyes drifted down to Marco's exposed torso. "Um... that's a lot of..."

"Yeah," he said indifferently. "Pancreatic cancer tends to spread a lot. It kind of comes with the territory. The transplants stopped after the first few years, though, so I don't think I'm going to be getting new ones anytime soon."

I wasn't sure whether he was talking about the surgeries or the scars.

Armin looked back up at Marco's face. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, they were just there and...I... Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's no big deal. I've talked about it so much, it doesn't really matter anymore."

"Is anyone else from the support group here?" Mikasa pitched in, possibly to rescue Armin.

"Yeah. I think that Connie and Sasha are hanging around somewhere. I talked to Krista when she came in, and Reiner and Bertolt were out here not too long ago."

"Well, at least we know we won't be here by oursel-"

My sentence fell flat when a voice cut through the crowd and grated against my eardrums. "Hey, Marco, do you remember where Nicole put the-"

And that sentence was cut short as well.

Marco turned around and Jean materialized out of the crowd. A jolt of adrenaline flashed in my veins as he passed by his friend to stand directly in front of me, glaring at me as if I were a blackhead on the face of humanity. "Jaeger," he spat.

I returned the disdainful favor. "Kirschtein."

A smug grin spread across his undeniably horse-like face. "So, you just couldn't stay away, could you?"

"No, I definitely could have, I just didn't feel like it," I snapped. "I didn't show up just so you could piss me off the entire time."

"Then why did you bother showing up at all?"

A hand settled on my shoulder before I could shoot my response at him. "Eren. Stop it."

Jean's sneer dropped from his face. He blinked, and his eyes went wide. "Holy..."

My head whirled around. Mikasa was standing behind me with a placid expression on her face. Also with her toned body, MMA six-pack and tan-lined cleavage all on absolute display.

I shrugged her hand off. "Mikasa," I murmured quietly, flicking my eyes back at Jean.

Kirschtein's dickishness melted away like it was made of ice. "H-hey, Mikasa," he stammered. "You look..."

"Thanks," Mikasa snipped, fully aware of what he was about to say.

"So... how's life been lately?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Library work, support group, free time, that kind of stuff."

"Oh. Nice." I caught Jean's eyes flicking back and forth between Mikasa's eyes and her... other areas. I dug deep into my soul for enough restraint to keep myself from shoving Jean backwards into his own pool.

I stood by while the two of them talked, ready to step in if things got out of hand. Marco did the same, although I was pretty sure he wasn't about to stop Jean if he decided to make a move. I, on the other hand, was ready to break his arms if it came to that. I glanced around after a few minutes to see that Armin had wandered off. I was just starting to wonder where he could have gone when my question was answered by a bloodcurdling shriek ripping through the air, followed by a loud SPLASH.

I spun around towards the pool. Armin was floundering around at one end, his shirt floating around him in the water and his hair plastered over his face. Reiner and Bertolt were standing at the edge, laughing so hard they looked like they might topple over and fall in after him. I noticed Annie a little ways off. She had her hands over her mouth, her face drawn up in a smile and her body shaking uncontrollably. God, it creeped me out so much when she laughed.

Armin found his footing on the bottom of the pool and reached up to push his hair out of his face. "Stop it, you guys! This isn't funny!"

"Sorry. I thought you said you could swim," Reiner joked. He'd also decided to keep his shirt on, which was probably for the best. I wasn't in the mood for vomiting at the sight of his skin deformity, and I didn't think the other guests were, either.

"I can, I just... What was that for?"

"It wasn't for anything," Bertolt replied. "It was just a joke."

I glanced over at Mikasa. Jean was still keeping his hands to himself, and Marco was still keeping watch over them. Figuring that Mikasa could take care of herself if the host tried anything funny, I left them alone and made my way over to the poolside.

Armin looked dejectedly up at me as I approached. "Oh. There you are, Eren."

I choked down a burst of laughter. His hair was sticking out on the side where he'd brushed it out of his face. The words A Flock of Seagulls came to mind. "I bet you're wishing you'd taken my advice now," I said.

Armin sighed and looked down at his soaking shirt. "Just a little."

"You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Good." A second later, I couldn't stop myself from adding, "Can you seriously not swim?"

"Just shut up and help me out of here."

"Okay," I said, a tiny giggle escaping along with the word. Before I could even offer a hand to Armin, a huge, heavy arm looped around my shoulders.

"Eren!" Reiner boomed, pulling me towards his chest and crushing my entire skeleton in a deathly-tight bear hug. "Good to see you! Didn't think you were going to show up."

I wriggled free of Reiner's grasp and tried to gasp for air as casually as I could. "Everyone keeps saying that."

"Well, you aren't really the social butterfly of the support group," Bertolt mentioned, draping one ungodly long arm over Reiner's shoulder. "And then there's Jean."

I sighed. "And then there's Jean."

The two of them continued talking while I knelt down next to the pool and offered a hand to Armin. He reached out toward me, and I took hold of one of his bony wrists, bracing my other hand on the edge of the pool. I was able to pull him out pretty quickly for someone with my strength. It was a miracle that my out-of-shape arm didn't snap in half from the effort. Still, that was probably only because Armin was a twig.

Armin dropped down on the edge of the pool and and slumped over, hiding his burning face behind his hands. "That was so embarrassing."

"Hey. It wasn't so bad." I glanced sideways to see Reiner crouched down next to him, one hand on his shoulder. "And think about it. Nobody here knows you. Half the people at this party you'll probably never see again."

Armin dropped his hand-shield and looked up at Reiner, his face still resentful. Reiner sighed and helped Armin get to his feet before apologizing and wrapping him up a reconciliation hug. Man, this guy is really feeling the hugs today.

By the time he released Armin, there was a huge Armin-shaped wet spot on his shirt and a faint smile had somehow found its way onto my friend's face. "Okay, I guess it was kind of funny," he admitted.

Reiner laughed and placed a hand on Armin's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "See? I told you!"

I played along and smiled to myself as well. Things seemed to be all taken care of. I had survived the trip there, Jean was being supervised, I wasn't completely surrounded by strangers, and it seemed like the waiting and guessing had been the worst of it. That was all behind me now. I figured I could probably spend a little while wandering around the house and see what other wonders the Kirschtein estate had to offer. Bertolt had certainly gotten my hopes up at the last meeting.

I turned away from the others to walk back to the house-

And froze.

I stared unblinkingly at the other end of the pool. Someone was climbing out. Suddenly my muscles had lost all function and I stopped dead, my eyes fixed on the stranger and unable to move. Then my vision was being taken over by the image of a toned, slender body, smooth skin with a barely-there tan, taut muscles, sculpted abs and raven hair dripping wet and tousled into the sexiest mess I have ever seen. All at once it suddenly made sense to me why the mention of Sina University had been so motivating.

Levi was here.