Unspoken Norms | Levi Ackerman ✔️

Chp 15 ~ Bus Trouble

Your POV

The alarm clock quaked my insides as soon as it screeched through the room. Subconsciously, I reached towards my bedside table, head groggy with sleep. What day is it?

After many tries, the merciless clock eventually hushed. I slumped back onto my pillow, face buried deep within its silken folds. I think I was having a wondrous dream, with rolling meadows and a sweeping sky, until an earthquake split the utopian world in two.

I bolted upright, irritation surging, only to find a hand shaking my shoulder. "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Did you fall asleep again? Today's camp!"

My eyelids launched open at my mother's words, body instantly awake. "Today? Wait, wait. Is it Monday already?"

"Yes, (Y/N)," she confirmed, kissing me on the head. "Now get ready will you—I'll make your favourite breakfast."

I smiled through the sleep in my eyes, grateful for my mum's kindness. The door closed as I got off my bed, heading blindly towards the adjoined bathroom. Camp, camp, camp... why's camp today? I'm not ready...

***

Gathered outside the school's main entrance—the familiar Eldian crest carrying back the first day's memories—our grade mingled about the steps in disorganised groups. Chatter met whoops and whistles and yells, clashing together to seriously hamper my hearing ability as Connie rambled off. I kept my attention on him—even though I couldn't catch what he was talking about. 

On his left, Sasha was gnawing on her jacket sleeve, teeth clamping on cerulean fabric while Jean attempted to separate mouth and sleeve for the twentieth time.

"C-Connie! (Y/N)! C-can you... help?!" Horseface bit out. Exertion was evident all over his face; forehead slick with sweat, eyes narrowed, teeth clenched. Sasha determinedly stuck herself to her sleeve, despite all Jean's efforts. Connie pulled the devil's ponytail back, whilst Horseface continued to yank at her arm.

I was contented to leave them to it and watch the scene unfold—but I couldn't do that to my friends. 

I went over and pushed Sasha's chin upwards, my other hand helping Jean to separate her arm. Fingers brushing over her mouth, I completely forgot the threat the devil posed—she was the bread devil. The only thought I had was that Sasha mistook skin for bread when she fastened her teeth on my pinkie.

The yelp I let out was ear-splitting.

"Quick! Quick! Pull!" I shouted, biting my lip as I tried to release my finger.

At least she was clamping down on my nail—that prevented it from hurting too much. But still—it was teeth. And teeth could break through skin.

Jean and Connie were full-on wrenching at Sasha's arm now, their features stained with panic and horror. I could only watch as the devil at last let go, freeing my poor pinkie, and making all three of them tumble backwards in a heaping mess. Horseface took the brunt of the fall, while Connie and Sasha flopped over him.

Everything surrounding me faded from my vision as I took a deep, amble breath, mind still flashing to that near-death experience. I could've died. Literally.

As soon as I recovered, the shrieking of tyres proclaimed the bus's arrival, and immediately the noise level heightened another few notches. A hand clamped on my shoulder—I turned around to see a tired Jean wincing with pain—and we were once again carried away by the tide of the grade.

I recognised Miss Munroe in sporty attire, so unlike her usual flowery skirts and dresses. She stood in the midst of them all, hair swept to the side in an exemplary style. A megaphone was held to her moving mouth, and I had to strain my ears to hear her words.

"...students are... gather with their mainstream class—those... be your groups on the bus! Your assigned teacher will arrange you into your seats..."

Turning to face Jean, I read the identical emotion on his face; dismay. The teachers were going to choose who we sat with. I could be sitting with Kiran or Elvas, two of the worst troublemakers in our class. And who knew how long the trip to camp would be? Three hours? Four?

Disquiet ensconced heavily in my stomach, more from the impending threat of camp than who I sat with. I flicked my eyes to the buses—five in total—and searched for our leader. Mr Quin. I only had him once as a substitute teacher, but that one lesson was all it took to form an impression.

The senior grey-haired man stood beside the second vehicle, eyes squished upwards by his baggy lids. Despite his non-existent gaze, he portrayed sternness in every other way; from his sharp, lifted chin to his rigid pose, spine completely vertical. To be honest, it was hard to take him seriously with those scrunched-up eyes.

Beside him, the bus driver hauled belongings into the luggage compartment, suitcases and duffle bags alike. Our class soon gathered by the bus door, followed by another class.

"10E stand to the left—10C on the right," Mr Quin snapped over our heads, a clipboard and pen in his grip. We lined up in a disorderly row, disrupted by a group of wrestling boys.

I raised an eyebrow when I spotted Eren within the fight, punching and kicking a guy from the bully group. Serves him right. If only the victim was Jarrod. That would've been my ultimate satisfaction in life.

"...Hange and Connie. Erwin and Jean. Sasha and Elvas. (Y/N) and Levi. Mikasa and..." I didn't pick up the rest. There was no need to—I was sitting next to Levi.

A whirlpool of emotions churned through my bones, conflicting one another. Hatred met awe, annoyance met delight, doubt met curiosity. Combined all at once, I was torn with how I felt towards this person. What do I feel?

If I was asked this question two terms ago, it would've been an easy answer; I hated him with all my heart. But now...

I don't know.