Valedictorian | Armin Arlert

matched

Ugly, rancid school buses infested the streets, as expected. It was an unfortunate, annual ordeal that summoned the acknowledgement of a terrible omen that dragged into the ending days of July.

August, arguably one of the worst months of the year, finally rolled its ugly face around. Oh how very brave it must be. School, high school, more specifically, was scheduled to unravel. Only this year, August would be a little different. For others in your grade, it was a slow year and not many people cared as much as you did about school.

Of course, you were (Y/N) (L/N), one of the two likely candidates determined to earn the class's title as valedictorian.  Knowledge is power, at least that's what you always told yourself. It was as if being an overachiever flowed in your blood. Grade point averages, bell curves, cumulative scores were your wings and the school was your sky.

Of course, the tragic reality lies in the confines of the human body. That's to say, you may or may not have developed some unhealthy habits, but it was easily shrugged off as sacrifice. 

The summer came to an end which meant that the volunteer work and summer jobs you took on to keep you busy was being replaced by state-induced education.

You couldn't help but grin as the freshmen, sophomore and late-bloomer juniors board the pale, wheezing, yellow bus as it passed your house. That's not to say your ride was especially grand, but it was a luxury compared to the school bus.

It was your senior year of high school and you, out of almost everyone had the most to prove and your whopping 4.3 GPA demonstrated your eagerness. Ever since the sixth grade, you've gotten only top grades. From extra credit to science fairs, everything your academic career has thrown at you has prepared you for the day you walk first on the podium and deliver your valedictorian speech.

It was a shame, a boy you had your eye after when you were young, also known as the another candidate for valedictorian, was also pursuing the spot. While he was a brilliant student, he hardly worried you. Armin Arlert was a nervous boy and always has been since you were friends. His meekness and lack of community involvement were grossly unattractive to universities across the country. You relied on this particular weakness to outrank Armin.

Despite belonging to separate friend groups, you and Armin used to be very close friends. It would have been obvious looking back. Nobody else matched your intellect the way he did. He stimulated every neuron in your head, you two were practically inseparable.

Unfortunately, your friendship suffered fatally freshman year. High school began and education made you two compete for class rankings. It tore you two apart as you shared your scores. Resentment spread like a disease between you.

Maybe in another world, you and Armin would see each other outside of intellectual performance. This was not that world, sadly.

It's not as if you and he took these things lightly, it was real life and your future counted on it. The dynamic is what made relationships like his with Eren and Mikasa work. And relationships like yours with Jean, Connie, Marco, and Sasha.

You had different goals and with lower stakes. You and Armin had been at each other's throats since the second semester of freshmen year. It was odd of Armin to be so competitive. You always assumed he understood the gravity of the situation.

You started the engine to your car and it wheezed out black fumes. Pulling up to Marco's house, you felt the heat come out of the furnace. Marco came to your car with Connie behind him.

"You're a lifesaver, (Y/N)," Marco said before stockpiling Connie into your small vehicle.

"What friend would I be if I didn't drive you guys everywhere," You said sarcastically, "I still have to pick up Sasha and Jean, so make room."