Chapter Twelve

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Jean had barely finished packing when his mother knocked on his bedroom door, telling him someone was here for him.

"He looks about your age, with dark hair... Said his name was Marco."

"Okay," Jean replied. Christmas had been hectic. And annoying. Jean's relatives had come just before he and his mom finished their collage, and of course had to ask about it. Jean just brushed them off. He actually would have preferred the "how is college?", and "goodness, you've grown! How old are you now?". But all in all, it wasn't so bad. There were relatives he couldn't stand, who nagged him for everything, but then there were those he didn't mind so much. The cousin who wore cool shirts to gatherings, and who posted cool things on Facebook, but he didn't really talk to other than that.

Then, the night of Christmas Eve, he Skyped Marco. They were able to gossip about their families.

"I still have some relatives here... They didn't want to leave until morning," Jean had complained.

Marco smiled. His room was dark, but Jean could still slightly make out his features. "I do, too... My aunt stayed."

Jean watched as the clock on his bedside table finally turned to 12 a.m. He smiled softly, staring at his screen. "Merry Christmas, Marco."

"Oh... It is Christmas now, isn't it?" Marco smiled in return. "Merry Christmas, Jean."

Jean grabbed his phone and bag, quickly hurrying downstairs.

Sure enough, Marco was in his living room. He was smiling, his cheeks rosy from the cold, and yet his smile grew bigger when he saw Jean.

"Hi! Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Jean replied coolly. "Did you drive here? I told you I could've driven to you..."

"Oh, no, it's alright! My family's chauffeur is driving us."

"Jesus Christ... You have a chauffeur?"

"Well, yeah. It used to come in handy when I couldn't drive and would need to be picked up from school or taken to a friend's house or something. My parents often couldn't do it." Marco smiled and gently took Jean's bag from him. "I'll carry this."

"Oh, thanks..."

Then Jean's mother came downstairs. "Have fun, Jean! And do keep your father and I updated on your classes once in a while, alright?"

"Yeah, okay."

She managed to get one final hug in before Jean insisted that he and Marco had to leave.

"Bye!" Marco called with a smile. "It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Kirschtein!"

"Tch... Do you have to do that?" Jean groaned under his breath.

"I'm just being nice." They walked out to the sleek, black car in front of Jean's house, putting his things in the trunk.

They sat in the backseat. The car was certainly luxurious. It was very toasty, and the seats were made of comfortable leather.

Jean took off his jacket, finding that the temperature was then perfect. The man in the driver's seat glanced at Marco in the mirror. "Ready?" He looked as though he were in his fifties, with greying hair and kind eyes.

Marco looked to Jean, who nodded. "Yup!" He finally said to the driver. The car began to move, pulling out of Jean's driveway and onto the main Street.

This was really weird. Jean hadn't had someone drive him since he was in high school. And how was he supposed to have a conversation with Marco when that guy was there?

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