Valedictorian | Armin Arlert

help

Your breath was heavy.

"What have I done... what have I done... Jesus Christ, how did I let this happen?" You repeated more times than you could count. A mistake, you made a mistake, at least that's what you told yourself. Truth was, you didn't know whether you wanted it to be true or not. That in itself was proof enough you needed to talk to someone. Someone who was level-headed and would take your situation seriously.

You pulled up to Marco's driveway. To your dismay, Jean's car was parked and vacant. Your eyes studied his house, the light was dim in his living room. You wondered why his parents weren't home. A blue television beam blared through the curtains, which he kept closed. You almost laughed, Marco perhaps didn't consider the silhouette that outlined the things he did with Jean in his living room.

Your head softly rested on your steering wheel. Lifting your head, you backed out, knowing you couldn't interrupt them. It made sense now, why Jean and Marco kept their relationship a secret. This shit was hard.

All you could do was drive home, hoping you'd get the chance to get it off your chest in the morning. Plus, you didn't want them asking why you and Armin didn't speak to each other at school all of the sudden.

An anguished cavity seemed to replace your gut. You sighed, seeing your father's car in the driveway as you approached the street you lived on. It was automatically assumed that your father was fast asleep, probably on the couch.

You were lucky to say your father wasn't a bad guy. Quite the contrary, he was a surgeon. Saving lives every day, from a young age you knew exactly why he spent more time with those who were dying.

While other kids might be losing their fathers in the hospital, you were losing your father to the hospital. The man was a machine and he always had been since your mother passed. It was a typical sob story but it hurt just as bad.

The asphalt was still damp as you stepped out, the porch light illuminated as you reached the patio. A familiar man was strung out on the porch swing, you scoffed. Your dad was an extraordinary individual, to put it kindly. By extraordinary, you meant he was eccentric and unconventional, perhaps that's how he became the world-class surgeon he is now.

Your smile faded as you realized how long it had been since you'd seen him. You almost forgot what he looked like, the two of you seemed so distracted all the time. It hurt to admit, but even the fact he existed drifted from your head a few times a week. Maybe it was sad, but it didn't bother you as much as you'd expect. 

You softly smiled as you climbed the stairs to the porch. He snorted awake as the bright LED were triggered at your approach. He sat up, you already imagined how he would deny that he was sleeping.

"Dad... what are you doing. It's getting cold." you knelt. He was still in his scrubs. It had been days since he'd stopped by. You would assume a doctor would take better care of himself.

Then again, wise didn't always mean smart. He churned haphazardly. He lifted his head, "I was waiting for you... I wanted to see you."

You shook your head, "You fell asleep,"

He stood up, rubbing his eyes and stretching, "I was resting my eyes. There's a difference."

You smiled, rolling your eyes. There was no fooling a doctor, even half asleep he sensed something was wrong with you. The thing was, there wasn't anything wrong with you. It was Armin who you'd hurt.

"Hey... did something happen?" He led you inside, the two of you plopping down on the underused furniture that sat in your dimly lit living room.

You rubbed neck, laughing nervously. The debate stirred in your head, whether you should confide with your father or not. However, it was late and you gave in.