"I THINK I LIKE ARMIN ARLERT."
"CONGRATULATIONS ON BEING THE LAST TO FIND OUT."
romeo and juliet reborn
in the 2000's as two high
schoolers but ones
a PC obsessed anime geek
and the others a total
bitch with designer shoes.
social hierarchy quee...
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after armin walked out, you couldn't help but half-heartedly kick a few boxes out of a fit of anger. the mess wasn't just physical, you'd officially fucked up, the smell of old banners and forgotten janitor supplies just a sorry reminder.
sitting there for a few more seconds just staring into nothingness, until the silence eventually became unbearable. hiding wasn't going to reverse anything, and it surely wouldn't fix the look on his face when he walked out. two choices: sit withering away in guilt, or do something about it.
choosing the second one made you eventually take a shaky stand, brushing dust off the cheer skirt like trying to wipe off the whole moment itself. spoiler: it didn't. one last glance at the mop in the corner, and you were off trying to pretend nothing was wrong. spoiler: there was.
instantly regretting ever leaving that room, ever attending the first half of the school day, ever getting involved with a nerd. people were seriously testing your patience.
countless dm's from burner accounts calling you every insulting name under the sun, and if it wasn't the nerds making unprovoked flirtatious comments like this was their one shot at finally having a chance to live out a wattpad fantasy, there'd already been about five guys to come up and ask how much for a lay as if you'd been suddenly running a pop-shop in the middle of the school hallway.
even girls were acting weird, as if you'd committed a crime against feminism. one even came up and asked if the kiss was a dare or a cry for help. no megan, it was a kiss, and definitely none of your business. but thanks for the concern.
you were seriously seconds away from charging a fee just to speak with you, until "(y/n)?" a small voice calls from behind while trying to make a casual appearance in the lunchroom, not far from a fail, head down like the paparazzi was snapping off-guard pap walk photos.
it was more of a plea to be left alone, not caring to deal with anymore bullshit, but completely ditching school wasnt any better so this had to do. with the pep rally later, the spotlight was bound to be on you today regardless. coach wouldn't be too pleased with a runaway cheerleader, so there was no point of going into hiding.
quickly halting to a stop, there were only two possibilities here, colt grice or a walking chalkboard with nails scratching it. who were you kidding, guessing between those two was impossible.
that voice could be recognized anywhere, however not in this setting. school was like the one place you could be brat-free, already dealing with it enough at home. finally turning, he's got the nonchalant backpack-slouched-over-shoulder look down to a T. perfectly tasseled hair, calm and collected demeanor, probably saved a cat from a tree on the way here. classic.
