Grandfather: A Narrative Fiction

Jean sat with Armin on the bus ride home. Each of them stealing a glance from each other every now and then. Jean watched Armin out of the corner of his eye pull out an old flip phone to text someone under a contact named: Grandpa.

"You have a phone?" Jean asked. Armin smiled a bit and rolled his eyes.

"Obviously." He replied holding up the small device.

"Well, give me your number." Jean said bluntly and Armin chuckled causing his blue eyes to light up brightly. It took Jean a minute or two to process what he had just blurted out. "I didn't mean it like that! I thought you wanted to talk sometime after school. Not that you have to, I mean-"

"Jean, just..Stop talking." Armin laughed and took out an ink pen. He grabbed Jean's hand and wrote his

He entered the kitchen and sat at the dining table with a groan. "Hi, It's Jean. I only called because I have a secret, yet major crush on you. No biggie."

His home life was very boring, especially since his mother worked night shifts. No one was in the house, besides himself, between the hours of five to eleven. Jean couldn't wait until football season started. He wouldn't be alone so often, and all this pent up anger could be of use on the field.

The microwave clock read the time: 5:32. Having nothing else to do, he pulled out the algebra homework that was supposed to be turned in yesterday and sighed.

"Ms. Rico is horrible at explaining this stuff. It doesn't make any since." Jean grumbled gesturing to his unfinished assignment. An involuntary sigh fell from his lips. "I wish I could be more like Armin. I bet he knows how to do this."

A sudden thought came to mind when Jean caught sight of his phone lying atop the kitchen counter. Yeah, he thought. Armin would know how to do this.

He had found an excuse to call the boy he has been admiring. With one last thought of victory Jean grabbed his phone, quickly dialing Armin's

awkward... conversation. Jean groaned loudly as he flopped onto his couch. He wanted to continue speaking to boy, why is he working at such a young age anyway?

He unlocked his phone smiling fondly at the background photo. The picture was taken about a year ago, when Jean was in the eighth grade...

The picture was of him and a boy he used to go to school with. His name was Marco. Jean and the slightly taller boy stood side by side, with Marco's arm draped over his shoulder. Each of them were grinning brightly at the camera. And somehow, Marco's smile made the freckles on his nose and cheeks, stand out. Jean had memorized each one, and the exact location of the small dimples that appeared when he smiled.

Marco was Jean's best friend, his inspiration, and the reason he is the way he is now. Believe it or not, Jean used to be just another hormonal teenager with a short-temper. Marco changed that, he could make the good side of Jean's personality shine through, even in the darkest situations. And for the longest time Marco was his only friend at all. However, Marco Bott, is also the reason Jean transferred