To fall in love with someone who doesn't remember you exist...
To make the same mistakes over and over again......
To live, only to have nobody believe you..........
It seems really painful, doesn't it?
Panting, the boy ran through the rain and puddles, hovering a bag over his head that contained folders and notebooks. Turning the corner right next to the wooden fence, he expected to see it.
The playground.
But more accurately, he expected to see her. The girl. She always sat there, on the swings, facing the sidewalk. He doesn't even remember exactly when he first saw her, as the elementary school was in the same direction of the high school. And she's been doing it for as long as he could remember.
Some of his earliest memories consisted of his mother or grandfather driving him to school, and he would always notice the little girl who would sit on the swings. Of course, there would usually be a parental figure with her. Not so much anymore.
Some days she would only be sitting there, other days she would be swinging. It also wasn't uncommon to find her with her eyes closed and head leaning against the chain of the swing, presumably sleeping.
As he looked through the opening that seemed like a gateway with no door, he saw her. Peacefully sitting there, pushing her feet against the ground to just slightly move the swing. He smiled at her, which she barely returned with a gentle wave. He would've most likely waved at her if his hands weren't occupied, and it seemed like the girl somehow knew this.
She never smiled or waved unless someone did those to her first
Now, why did he even care anymore? Why bother to look in if they see each other every day? What was the point of it? I mean, he had no intention of talking to her.
Though he would if he wasn't so damn shy.
Once he reached his school, he hurried inside with the other kids and teens who were either soaked in rainwater or had umbrellas or raincoats with them.
Once he made it inside, he took off his deep green sweater, which was actually school merchandise, to be left in a light blue t-shirt. He sighed, feeling the water drip from the article of clothing. Had he known it was going to suddenly start pouring on his walk to school...
"Aw, man! Now my lunch is totally soaked!" He heard his friend and locker neighbor, Sasha, complain as they walked down the same hall to their neighboring lockers.
"Why don't you just start getting lunch here?" He questioned, though it was more like a suggestion.
He grabbed the lock, still having his balled up sweater in one hand, and started twisting it to get in his code. Once it opened, he put the sweater inside.
"Because my dad hasn't had the time to get money from his credit card, or the bank, or something." She frowned as they both put non-important-at-the-moment-items in their lockers and took the important-at-the-moment-items out. Then she suddenly gasped, slamming her locker shut. It would've frightened the blonde next to her if he wasn't so used to it. "Armin!"
'Oh no...' The boy so called 'Armin' thought.
"Do you have lunch money?!" She asked, nearly yelling.
If he did, and said yes, then she probably would take it all and buy her own food... And then never pay him back. He learned a long time ago to never lend her food money.
"Not enough for us both, but I'm sure Christa would be nice enough to spare some." He quickly directed her focus to an acquaintance of theirs. Sure, he felt guilty about it, but Christa never minds sharing. She's practically an angel.
She quickly exclaimed, "You're right!" before running off to go find her.
He sighed for the second time within ten minutes. He doesn't get paid enough for this.
~
After Armin made it to homeroom, his best and childhood friend started pestering him. In a friendly way, of course. The only thing was it was usually the same thing whenever he did this. Thank goodness for Armin that it was only once every few months before that airhead gets caught up with something else.
"So?" The brunette spoke in a teasing tone.
"So what?" Armin played dumb.
"How's your friend?"
"You're talking about the girl from the playground again?" The smaller boy asked. He only got a nod in return, a dumb smirk staying on his friend's face the entire time.
The sigh was coming back. Though he held it down this time, so he wouldn't seem more annoyed than disappointed.
Every time Eren, the aforementioned friend, questioned Armin about the 'Playground Girl', it was just a reminder of all the confidence he lacked. No way could he go up to that girl and start a conversation with her, especially straight out of the blue!
What is he going to say? 'Hey, Playground Girl. I've been seeing you since we were children but I want to talk to you for the first time now, so randomly'?
"She's not my friend. I haven't even spoken to her." He sheepishly looked at his desk that he was sitting at. Eren was the one to huff out a sigh this time as he walked over and sat on the blondie's desk, gaining his attention causing him to look up at his towering figure.
"You've been wanting to talk to her for, what? A year, right?" Eren started.
"Actually, almost two..." Armin corrected in a small voice.
"You seem pretty into her, too. It's actually kinda creepy-" Eren was cut off by Armin.
"It's not like that! And you're not helping." He whined, quietly so he wouldn't cause a disruption. Eren chuckled.
"Okay, okay, chill. Anyways, you should rip the bandaid off."
Armin nodded, debating whether he should really do it. But then his mind wrapped around a different question and he furrowed his eyebrows.
"Eren, why do you care about this?" He questioned, noticing that Eren took seat in the desk beside him.
He smirked. "I haven't seen you happy in a while, so you should get a girlfriend! Everyone else is getting one, and I hate seeing you so stressed out, especially over something like this."
Who knew Eren could be so bromantic? But Armin ignored the last part, focusing on the girlfriend part. His cheeks begun to feel warmer as they turned red and he opened his mouth, about to tell his buddy that his intentions weren't to date her, only to he stopped by the teacher hurrying into the room and apologizing for being late.