Chapter Text
“You good?” he asks.
“Marseille was on the coast,” Jean says. “The Mediterranean.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jeremy asks, looking absurdly pleased by this titbit. “I’ve never been to Europe.”
“Europe is not a country,” Jean says. “You can’t just say— never mind,” he just waves his hand, and that is that.
******
“Yeah,” Lucas says, “but we’ve also heard how he made starting line-up.”
Cody grimaces. “Stow that, Lucas. We talked about this.”
“We agreed we were going to take the rumours with a grain of salt,” Lucas sends back. “But Grayson is saying it, too.”
“Saying what exactly?” Jean asks. Oh this is good.
Lucas tilts his head. “How you whored your way to the starting line-up.”
“LUCAS!” Cat, Laila and Jeremy shout at the same time.
Jean clenches his teeth. “And you believe him?”
“You know, Jean is right,” Jeremy says. “How can you believe him knowing how the Ravens are?”
“What do you mean?” Lucas asks.
Jean loses his patience. “If you believe this, then you’re just as stupid as all the Ravens. And your brother is even more stupid, because he knows the reality of the team.”
Lucas’ brows shot up.
Jean sends him a cold look. “Do you really believe the— Coach Moriyama would care about who I supposedly slept with? Do you really think he’d signed me because I slept with some players? It’s Coach Moriyama we’re talking about, the most important person to the Ravens, the most powerful man in Exy. And suddenly his players find out someone made their way to the starting line up by— you have no idea, it’s the hierarchy, and respect, and—” Jean stops for a moment. All eyes are on him. He’s used to this at this point. “If it was the truth, then it means neither Coach Moriyama nor Riko care about skill when it comes to the Ravens. It makes them and the Ravens looks stupid. And even if, hah—” Jean must look insane right now, but he doesn’t care. “If it’s as simple as sleeping your way to the line up, why didn’t your brother do it? He could’ve had a number on his face from his freshman year.”
Lucas doesn’t have an answer for that, so Jean continues, “So go check my stats before you say another word, because you have no idea what you’re talking about. Go ask your drenched brother how come he knows about it, and why he says bullshit about me. Go on,” Jean finishes.
Everyone is silent. Jean stands up and leaves them all alone.
*****
“Good lord,” Cat says. “Effective immediately you are required to acknowledge every major holiday. When’s your birthday?”
“November.”
Cat waits, but nothing else is forthcoming. “Like all thirty days of it, or do you want to narrow it down some for me?”
Jean nods at Jeremy. “You should know. It’s in my papers somewhere.”
“Huh?” Jeremy asks.
“You saw my file, you know I’m nineteen.”
“Uhh.. I guess... But I don’t really remember. You have your ID? Driving license?”
Jean shrugs.
“You have to have it, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to fly here,” Jeremy explains to him.
“Coach Wymack took care of it,” Jean says.
“My god,” Cat says. “Just check your bag.”
Jeremy runs his hand over his face. “The more I learn about the Ravens the more crazy they seem.”
“Tell me about it. I read somewhere every Raven has a car. And get this, they have to be identical. Every time there’s a major body style change that would cause a freshman’s car to stand out, Edgar Allan simply sells back and replaces all of them. Absolute freaks,” Cat says.
“Does Jean even have a driving license?” Jeremy starts to wonder. Did Jean even have time to learn how to drive?
Jean comes back to the kitchen with his driving license. He waves it at Jeremy. “9th of November.”
“So you’re a Scorpio,” Cat says. “Explains a lot, honestly. Well then you’re three days before Cody. We could have a double birthday bash and go all out.”
“When did you get that?” Jeremy asks.
“I didn’t,” Jean says. “Someone took care of it.”
“What does it mean?”
“Come on, Jeremy,” Cat says happily. “Use your brain. Can you imagine driving lessons in the Nest? With their crazy sixteen hour days?”
“Oh,” Jeremy says. “But you can drive, though?”
“My Raven car is an automatic,” Jean says. “Driving in the US is stupidly easy.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Jeremy grins. “I, for example, can’t drive a stick shift.”
“Of course you can’t,” Jean says, smiling meanly. But Jeremy likes this smile.
*****
“My passport, my birth certificate, and my social security card, I don’t have it. My mother keeps it somewhere. Even if I wanted to run away from my family, I can’t,” Jeremy tells him. They’re sitting in the park at the campus, waiting for Cat and Laila, and somehow the subject went to Jeremy’s family.
“You need all of those papers to live on your own, when the school ends, yes?” Jean asks. It’s not like he has any idea about American documents and whatnot.
“That would be helpful, yes,” Jeremy says.
“We can tell Browning it all burned down with the house and you need new ones,” Jean says.
Jeremy frowns. “What do you mean?”
“If you tell him, he will help you. That actually makes sense, you having your documents in the house. Besides, he’s stupid, he can’t tell when someone is lying, trust me.” Jean huffs a laugh, thinking about Neil eating his noodles in the FBI office.
“I’m not sure… Lying to an FBI agent?”
You’d be surprised, Jean thinks, but he doesn’t say. “You need these documents, you have a chance to get them, what’s the problem?” Jean presses.
Jeremy rubs his fingers into his forehead. “Well, at least the documents would be… authentic, I guess…”
“You know,” Jean says. “I know someone who could help as well. Someone who changed his name at least ten times. I’m sure he knows how to get a fake passport.”
Jeremy takes the bait. “Oh no, no. I don’t need any trouble.”
Jean tilts his head. “Well?”
“Okay, okay! I feel like my mother is going to kill me, when she finds out.”
“She’s not,” Jean assures. “Because we have the FBI on our side.”
“Not helping,” Jeremy grumbles.
“Why are you so attached to your family?” Jean asks. Every time Jeremy says something about his family he sounds… upset? Jean can’t find the word for it.
“Because they have me in a grip,” Jeremy confesses, staring at his shoes. “I don’t have any money and they control every dollar I spend, and I still have almost the whole college year to finish with.”
Jean gives him a sceptical look. “And you think I have any money?”
Jeremy looks surprised, but then his face relaxes. “I know about your situation, I’m not stupid. Cat and Laila know too, and they— we want to help you. You don’t need to hide it, or avoid the subject, you know.”
Jean feels relieved, like someone took a huge weight out of his shoulders. “Kevin told you?”
“No. I figured it out. If you were living in the Nest and—” Jeremy grimaces. “Then it’s easy to assume you had nothing.”
“Mhm,” Jean mutters. “And yet everyone helps me, so why wouldn’t it work for you?”
“That’s— how do you mean? You don’t have much,” Jeremy says, and then adds quickly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like—”
“It is fine. I’m sure Coach Rehmann would help you, Lesninski too. You have a scholarship?”
“No, my parents just paid the tuition, they can afford it,” Jeremy admits.
“But you could have a sports scholarship, like me, yes?” Jean asks. If Coach Rehmann and USC managed to fix Jean’s situation, then what’s the problem here, exactly?
“Maybe,” Jeremy says.
“My god, stop being so modest, it doesn’t suit you. You’re America’s favourite. Anyone would give you a scholarship. And we have the FBI’s place to live, yes? Then you’ll go pro and you will be rich. You will need a passport to go to the Olympics.”
“Well, maybe—”
“And I can’t imagine a situation in which Cat or Laila refuses to help you. Coaches too. Even Wymack would help you. You have no idea how much he admires you,” Jean says.
“Really?”
“My god Jeremy, stop being so dramatic.”
“As if it was this simple.”
“Kevin would sell his soul to help you. His underwear too, probably, if it helped you.”
“Ewww— where is this conversation going? Why would anyone buy Kevin’s underwear?”
“You’d be surprised,” Jean sighs. “Well then?”
“I need to think about it. But please don’t say another word about Kevin’s— anything.”
“If you promise me, then I won’t. Say ‘Yes, Jean’.”
Jeremy rolls his eyes, “Yes, Jean.”