The Tutor (Eremin) {Editing}

1. sparks~coldplay

The Tutor

1. sparks~coldplay

Eren's POV

Autumn days were my favorite. I loved the nostalgic feeling in the crisp, new air. It carried memories of Halloweens past and diving through piles of leaves, laughing until my lungs hurt. Staring out the window as the sunlight shone, I watched the scarlet leaves intently, thoughts swirling around in my head.

"Eren Jaeger?"

The voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see the office receptionist, peering down at me with eyes owl-like through her round glasses.

"She's ready to see you now."

In the principal's office, I sat in one of the plush chairs, tossing the Rubik's cube from her desk back and forth in my hands. She was typing away at her computer, frustrated sighs erupting from her mouth every so often. Her name tag spelled out her name in gold—Valerie Perez, and beside it was a picture of her in casual clothing, holding the hands of two identical twin girls.

After a minute of my boredom-induced observation of her all-too familiar office, Ms. Perez finally spun around to face me in her swivel chair. I could see my grades displayed on the computer behind her.

"Eren, you're failing three of your classes."

I stared, disbelieving, at the stern, tight-lipped woman in a crisp black suit, whose gaze was unyielding even at our relatively close proximity.

"Yeah? So what?" I answered, rolling my eyes as I kicked at the carpet with the toe of my combat boot.

"So, you're going to need some special help. A tutor. I've already talked to your mom, and you'll be meeting with your tutor for three hours every Wednesday, starting next week."

I groaned. Tutoring? There's no way, I concluded. I had neither the time nor the will for that. My sports activities took up enough time, and I liked to hang out with friends in my spare time. Three hours a week with a tutor would rob me of said precious time, not to mention it sounded like an incredibly insufferable experience.

"There's no way I'm going to do that!" I protested, sprawling forward in my chair and falling over her desk, proceeding to knock over a well-placed mug that was luckily empty.

Ms. Perez pursed her lips, unflinching. She had a jaded look in her eyes, like she'd had this exact conversation before. "I think you will," she challenged. "Or else you won't graduate. Seems like a fair compromise, don't you think?"

I sighed, closing my eyes and reflecting on the offer. It didn't seem like I had much of a choice in the matter, especially with the wrath of my mom looming heavily above me.

Opening my eyes and meeting her gaze, I regained my composure as I crossed my arms defiantly. "Fine," I agreed. "But I'm not gonna like it."

• • •

My least favorite part of every school day was going home. It was always impossible to tell what vicious mood my mother might be in, or if I would eat a proper dinner if the fridge hadn't been raided by her drug-dealing friends, or if I could even make it through the back door without having to dodge a flying beer bottle.

Long story short, I hated being at home.

Pacing the length of the parking lot, I waited until a familiar, mismatched pair of girls came into view. Ymir and Christa were inseparable, one basically never seen without the other, and complete opposites. Ymir was all hard edges and ripped jeans and oversized men's shirts, and Christa was her angelic counterpart, all pastel pink skirts and yellow crop tops and the softest personality imaginable. I had been close to Ymir since freshman year, as we had similarly awful home lives and bonded over our situations. Christa was always a welcome addition, even if we weren't as close.