Memoirs of the Lost Loser

Lie so Low

"You sound like my mom," He chuckled lightly. "But why are you doing this? We called you a freak sometime back."

Oh, so he remembered. So he remembered and that's enough to let go of what they said. Although the bullying hadn't stopped yet, (Some unimportant, unnamed cadets just can't let it go!)  it felt relieving they knew what they did that triggered the whole thing. Maybe they'll even apologize if you're pushing your luck.

"You didn't do this to get back at us, did you?" You shook your head nonchalantly because you are a magnificent liar.

"Wish I did. Whoever did that to you's pretty clever."

"Sorry about that." After an awkward silence, a chuckle escaped from his lips as he blushed by the moonlight. Jean scratched the back of his head. That's just the poison ivy right? Not some awkward hormonal reaction from a boy undergoing puberty?

You tucked your hair behind your ears. As soon as you noticed he's interpreting it as something else, you began to panic.

Oookay, now what the fuck? You showed kindness and you get a fanboy? You're older than him. Like years man. You sure don't look like your age, but with a fifteen, fourteen year old guy? Nope, not happening—

"Hey, um," he scratched his sideburns like some shy high school kid trying to shoot his shot to his crush to an after school boba date. You fought the urge to cringe as he went on on his delusions.

"Do I get to share this with Connie or...?"

"Share them with Connie. I don't have anymore but I'm sure you got enough for two."

"Oh." He sounded like a lost mutt. "I thought this was just for me."

"I think I need to go... Histor— Christa said she'll rub my back for me so..." Historia never said that.

"I see. I'll update you with the effects tomorrow—"

"No need to do that."

"Then I'll show you in the morni—"

"No." Take a fucking hint man.

"I see. I'll see you tomorrow in the mess hall?" He said so cooly he almost convinced himself he did look cool, but in all honesty he looked like an ostrich peeping on a women's public bathroom.

"Don't wait for me." You just wanted to leave at this point. "Great to see you, Jean."

"Good night, um..?"

"Johnson." You don't want to give him your first name. It's too familiar and you don't want to be too familiar with the people you'll leave after a couple of years and never see again.

"Johnson?" Jean took your surname to memory with that smile on his lips. "Yeah, good night, and uh..." He still have something to say as he meaninglessly flailed his arms on his sides, in which you really can't give two shits about.

"I'm sorry we said those things before. We know you're quite... different but it's not right to pick on you."

Different. Hearing that word you detest made your insides churn. Jean already apologized, and it should be enough. You shouldn't punish him for the things he's sincerely mending and contemplating upon, right?

"You mean it?" You tested him, raising an eyebrow.

"What do I mean..?"

"What do you mean 'different'?" You dreaded to hear his answer. "Bad different?"