Helping Others Out

Chapter 3

 2,493 words! Yay! I always try to get my chapters to at least 1.7k words, or else I feel like it's too short. 2k words also kind of seems short, but it can be a struggle sometimes. I admire those who can write 4k+ chapters in a matter of hours and still have them turn out amazingly.

Anyway, prepare for the somewhat sadness of this chapter. (There may or may not be some chapters coming in the future that are more sad, so watch out.) 

Warning: mention of a previous suicide. (After "'Second of all,' Reiner was silent for a second, as if debating whether or not to tell him.")

~O~O~O~O~O~  

"So," Marco's father began, taking a bite of his chicken Alfredo. "How was your first day of school this year?"

Marco chewed and swallowed the food he had in his mouth before answering. "It was good."

"Are you liking your classes so far?" His father continued to push the conversation along. 

"Yeah--er, yes," he corrected himself. "The teachers all seem quite nice as well."

It's not like Marco even had a choice in what classes he was taking anyway. His parents had already chosen his career for him, and made sure he had no room for error. They made him start taking college-level classes during his junior year of high school, too. They also tried to make sure he didn't have any friends unless they were both polite and academic, and as mentioned before, Armin was the only one who passed that test. And no, it's not just his parents wanting him to have a good, successful life. They couldn't care any less about the well-being of their son. They just wanted money. And grandchildren. They had made that clear to Marco numerous times.

"Are there any girls that may have sparked your interest?" His mother decided to join the discussion, although she probably wasn't paying very much attention beforehand anyway, considering the topic was almost completely different; the only combining factor was the idea of the first day at school.

"No, Mother." He always had the same answer. "There are no girls who are smart enough and pretty enough to even consider dating." Of course, he didn't actually think this, it was only what he knew his parents would like to hear. He obviously wasn't going to tell them the only reason he didn't have a girlfriend by now was because he doesn't even have the slightest interest in them, only in guys. Well, only a certain guy with two-toned hair and the face of a horse. Anyway, this answer would usually let him off the hook for another month or so before his parents questioned him again.

"Oh, still? What about that Margaret girl? She's at the top of your class, and she's absolutely beautiful," his mother urged, grinning widely. "If things ended up working out for you two, you could end up having a couple of adorable children."

Shit.

"Mother," Marco deadpanned. "I simply cannot date her. She practically hates my guts."

His mother blinked, taken aback. "How could anyone not adore you? You're incredulously smart, and you're very handsome."

He held back the urge to roll his eyes and sigh at her. "She thinks that I am trying to take her place as top of class," he let out the annoyed actions, as if to show annoyance at Margaret, not his mother. "Which, I guess I am kind of trying to do."

"I guess that makes enough sense." His mother pursed her lips. "Anyway, you should see to it that you get a girlfriend soon."

"I will."

The conversation dropped and Marco was left to his own thoughts of how pretentious his family sounded, even though they lived in a mediocre house and had just under the average amount of money of a normal three-person family. Thus, why they wanted him to become a dentist. Which, didn't even make much sense. It didn't make quite as much money as a physician, but he tried to make sense of the fact that they didn't want to pay for about eight years of schooling. He didn't argue, though. He doesn't want to have to operate on someone and have their lives depend on him to do every surgery right, to diagnose every single disease and infection correctly. He would prefer to scrape plaque off of people's teeth and other dentist-y things. Besides, if the person's breath smelled bad, he could just brush their teeth and it was better. At a hospital, however, he couldn't just tell someone to brush their teeth or take a shower, because they would most likely be laying down on his operating table, cut open.