Chapter Text
Eren pulled his bag up over his shoulder, grateful he hadn't had to wait too long at the baggage claim. This was one of the only times he'd ever been to an airport, besides the one time his dad had taken him on a trip to the UK. Airports were weird, they were gross and smelled nasty, and he felt so alone there. He knew he was supposed to be meeting his new exchange family out towards the gates, but the gate was a hundred miles away it felt like. What was even worse was the fact that pretty much everything was in English, save for the signs that showed what each location was called. Thank god for the little German text under the English sign, or he knew he'd be pretty lost. He stepped out of the way of everyone, pushing a hand through his brown hair. He watched the flow of people leaving the baggage claim and decided to follow and hope that it directed him to the gate. How the hell was he expected to navigate all by himself through an American airport?
He’d been told it would be difficult when he arrived, and his English teacher had tried to prepare him as best he could. Eren had passed most of his tests with decent marks, his teacher had requested he go to America, and his dad even had enough faith in his abilities (surprisingly) enough that he’d pay to send him away for an entire school year, but the actual application of being in America by himself while trying to just sit and focus on the words flurrying and swirling around him was making him feel frustrated and hopeless. He wasn’t as smart as he thought, it seemed.
He followed the flow of people until they started flooding through a gate. Eren glanced up to check if there was a sign, but nothing. He continued to follow the people though, pulling his suitcases, strapped to each other, and held his duffel close by. He needed quite a few things if he was going to get through an entire school year at his hosts house. The thought of an entire year away from home and his parents made his stomach turn. No matter how much mental preparation he had, he would never be ready for it. The brunet tried to shake those thoughts from his head. He needed to concentrate on finding his host family in order to not get kidnapped and killed on his first day in America.
Relief washed over him when he realized the flood of people were all heading towards a main entrance. The bustle was stressful, but he knew that if he followed towards the front entrance he would find his host family. Unfortunately, he didn't know much about his host family besides that it was the Arlert's, and it was a grandfather and his grandson. He knew the grandsons name, Armin, but had hardly talked to him. They sent maybe three or four letters back and forth in the months leading up to the trip, when Eren was first assigned to that family. He knew what Armin looked like though, which was a plus.
He clung to his baggage as he walked down the section off aisle, thankful that the people seemed more spread out in this area. He looked for a sign with his name on it, or at least blond hair. The blond hair seemed like the easiest to notice out of the crowd of people waiting along the ropes. Eren rolled his luggage forward, walking slowly in order to look all over. When he didn’t see anything he was hoping for, he continued forward. He was getting confused now, were they even here? He hoped to god that they were, that he was just missing them somehow. He walked closer to the front doors, all glass and all tall. He waited a few feet away from where the deep red and grey carpet met tile. And then he saw the blond. He had been watching the crowd morphing, and saw the blond head, and then there was a clearing and he saw Armin and his grandfather. Armin was short, as was his grandfather. The youngest of the two was wearing a light pink shirt, almost salmon, with loose skinny jeans and a pair of converse that Eren could tell even from where he was that they were beat up and ripping. His face was sunburnt on his nose and cheeks, and his blond hair framed his face and made the red stand out. His grandfather had on a collared lime green shirt, the top button open and showing his white undershirt and a few silver chest hairs. The older man’s shorts looked khaki, and stood out against his tan skin, down to his leather sandals. Both of the boys were tan, and Eren assumed it was just because of the ending of summer, evident by the tan lines that Eren spotted on Armin’s knees, tan going to pale white. Eren grabbed his bags again, and started towards them. He got within three feet before Armin noticed him, and suddenly he was being grabbed.
“Eren! You made it safe!” Armin squealed, hugging him tightly and trying to jump at the same time.
“Ah, y-yes?” Eren said, holding his arms out in the air, not quite sure what to do with them.
“We’re glad you made it, my boy. Come, let’s get out of the way, Armin.” Armin’s grandfather said, trying to usher them to the side.
Eren furrowed his brow. He was confused and uncomfortable. What the hell was he supposed to do with the teen wrapped around him? Pushing him away seemed plausible.
Armin let go, just as he was about to push the blond off. “Sorry, I’m just so excited. I’m so happy to see you!” He said, his voice shaking just as his hands were as they held Eren.
“Thank you?” Eren said, not quite sure what to say in this situation. Well, he knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t know if it would come out the way he thought it would. Constructing sentences on the fly was always difficult.
“It’s nice to meet you, Eren. I’m Armin, and this if my grandfather. You can call him grandpa, too.”
“Nice to meet you.” The brunet breathed, relieved that Armin said exactly what he’d been looking to say.
“Let’s get you home, I’m sure you’d like to unpack.” The old man said, smiling wide and his wrinkles folding.
All Eren could do was nod in agreement. Even if it was only a little past five in the evening where Eren had just arrived, back in Germany it was already eleven at night and he was tired. He knew he should have slept on the plane. Instead, no, he was totally stupid and played dumb horror games on his laptop, messed around with his Animal Crossing, and practiced catching popcorn with his mouth for nine hours. Oh, and he studied his English text book. By studying, he meant he stared at the vocabulary lists for about an hour without practicing them. He just wanted to soak them in. Maybe if he stared at the words long enough, they’d float into his brain and just say there forever. Then he wouldn’t seem so stupid when he got to America. He was really nervous, even though he knew there would be other exchange students at the same school. Although, he was the only one from Germany. He was definitely going to be fucked. Eren patted his pocket to feel if his phone was still there, and was relieved. Thank god, it had his German to English dictionary on it. Also, which the brunet guessed was at least a bit important, his mom told him he had to text her every day.
Armin and his grandfather started off towards the front doors, all glass panels with warm orange light pouring through. Armin lagged behind, offering repeatedly to help Eren with his bags, that way he could relax more. No matter how much Eren refused, the blond still got a hold of his duffel. Armin decided it was a victory.
As they left through the doors, Eren felt like the breath was just knocked out of him. He’d been to a few bigger cities before, and he’d obviously been the Berlin before, but this felt completely different. While Berlin had a lot of historical buildings, Trost had nothing like that. Outside of the airport, they were faced with a long street of cars. A ways away, over the cars and passed a chain linked fence, Eren could see a mess of blinking lights. They blinked red, on and off in different times, and he couldn’t tell what exactly it was that caused the blinking. Armin must have seen Eren staring, because he nudged him and smiled.
“Those are windmills. They help with electricity here.” The blond explained, and followed behind his grandfather.
Eren nodded in understanding. Windmills. He pulled out his phone to double check that he was sure of the meaning, as was habit for him. His thumb swiped over the screen, tapping in the passcode, 3-7-3-6. The brunet typed it in how it sounded, hoping to god it was the correct spelling, and was pleased. Windmühle, he was familiar with that, but they sure as hell didn’t look like those.
Luckily, as the three of them walked towards the parking lots and the sun began setting further, Eren noticed the the distant windmills so far were the only different things he’d really encountered besides the language, but he’d anticipated that. Obviously.
The school that Eren went to back at home didn’t teach as much English as the other high schools that he’d been to, so he struggled with English. Sure, other schools were required to start at about third grade. Yeah, he started then too. But then he was pulled out of school in the fourth grade, was homeschooled and learned next to no English from his father, and then was dumped into his freshman year of English classes and since then he’d been desperately trying to learn as much as he could. Eren was one of the lucky students who apparently tried hard enough for his teacher to talk to his mom and dad about studying abroad. They sure as hell had the money, and that’s where the brunet found himself. America. Learning English via complete immersion. His teacher did say that complete immersion would be the best for him, and he’d be totally fluent by the time he came back home to Shiganshina the following year at the end of June. It gave him plenty of time, considering he’d arrived mid August. It was almost an entire year that he’d be away from his parents and his friends back home. It was making his stomach hurt. Even though Eren had highly doubted that he’d be one-hundred percent fluent, and still did, he hoped he’d be able to speak it fluently, just because he wanted to show off to his mom what he’d learned. He wanted to show all of his classmates how hard he’d worked and what a great experience he’d had. Most of all, the brunet just wanted to show that even though he was gone for a while, he could still pull out on top and out rank even Jean. He was smart enough to be on their level. The teen glanced over to Armin, who was beside him now. Eren had a feeling that Armin would be more than happy to help with learning. Eren stuffed his phone back into his pocket after locking it, and paid attention to his surroundings.
The pavement on the sidewalk had gone from smooth and new looking to cracked and broken, grass poking through as they followed deeper into the parking lot. Armin was chewing at his bottom lip, the tip of his pink tongue dipping out to smooth over the worried flesh. He didn’t seem anxious or nervous, but Eren could be mistaken already.
“Are you right?” Eren asked, hoping to whatever god there was out there that he didn’t sound stupid?
“Right about what?” Armin asked, looking over at the brunet.
Eren thought for a moment, trying to just sort out the blonds words. Shit, what was the English word for lippen again? It’s a cognate, he was pretty sure. At least, part of it was. He quickly ran over the stupid body part song, only to realize lips weren’t even a fucking part of it. Fuck elbow, he didn’t need to know what that word meant. Lips were more important than elbows, he was pretty sure.
“Your lip.” Eren said, pointing at his own mouth and tapping his lips just to make sure his point was getting across. “You’re biting.”
“Oh, yeah.” Armin said, smiling shyly. “It’s a weird habit. I’m fine though.”
“Yes.” Eren said, nodding. He kept his head down to walk to the car.
They stepped off of the sidewalk and onto the asphalt, the sound of Eren’s rolling suitcase changing as they made their way towards the back of the parking lot. They walked passed rows of cars, until the cars started becoming sparse and only a few here and there. The group approached a rusty, burgundy colored truck that looked like it might just fall apart if they all got in it.
The rust had completely eaten away at the front and back bumper, and had formed small holes on the hood. The bed of the truck had holes through the bottom of it, and Eren was too nervous to put his bags back there. The door to the bed had apparently “fallen off”, according to Armin’s hurried commentary, and they would have to strap Eren’s bags with a bungee cord. There was no way in hell. He’d prefer to be cramped as hell in the cabin than lose any of his luggage. So, he stuffed in his bags, and scooted in after them. Armin looked as if he was debating on whether or not he should sit in the front with his grandfather or in the back with Eren, and decided on the latter, sliding in next to Eren and shaking in excitement.
“If you’re hungry, grandpa brought some money for us to stop and get food. It’s kind of a long drive cuz we live on the other side of Trost. I hope you don’t mind, it’ll be like forty-five minutes.” Armin explained, reaching into the front seat to paw at a cooler. "We also have sandwiches. You want one?"
Eren shook his head. Armin's grandfather climbed into the truck with some effort, gripping the steering wheel and yanking on his seatbelt to hoist himself in. Once seated, the three buckled in, and waited for the unsettlingly rusted truck to roar to life and pull out of the parking space.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Eren.” Armin said again, smiling over at him. It seemed the smile had been plastered to his face since Eren had arrived.
The brunet nodded. He was genuinely excited to be there as well, but he felt awkward around the two. This was going to be a long school year, and school hadn’t even started.