Chapter Text
Maybe this is what Jemilla deserved.
Some twist of fate led to Jemilla sitting alone in a corner in the library, without her friends, without a place in the play. It seemed that it was all her fault, otherwise, she wouldn’t be there. If she had just listened to the others and considered their ideas they wouldn’t blank her in the hallway and move to different desks in classes they shared with Jemilla. She knew being controlling was one of her problems that she had to work on, but she had no idea it would lead to this.
Then there was fucking Zazzalil. She had always been testing Jemilla’s patience for years now, but there was never anything as extreme as what happened. Surely Zazzalil must have known how Jemilla would have reacted to it, how she had always reacted to Zazz doing stupid shit to get a rise out of the other girl. She knew that Zazzalil did it fully on purpose, knew of how protective Jemilla was of her close friends and purposely doing something incredibly reckless.It was almost a decade of built up annoyance between the two that exploded in one argument. Zazzalil had some fucking nerve and she knew it.
But Jemilla was right the whole time. The storm was dangerous and Zazzalil was just lucky to come out without injuries. Maybe she was holding the whole group back to a better play, but the danger in that particular afternoon outweighed Zazzalil’s goal, which everyone failed to see.
Of course, Jemilla was wrong this time. She knew it, she got it. If only the group knew that from Jemilla’s point of view she did it all for Zazzalil.
The barely hidden truth was that Jemila had fallen for Zazzalil years ago, and she fell for her hard. Everything that the other girl did only made it worse, from her small spins and large grins when she had a new idea, to her absolute kicked puppy face when the slightest thing goes wrong. Jemilla was incredibly overprotective of her, which only led to trouble, but she couldn’t bear anything bad happening to her. Zazzalil could never know, and Jemilla didn’t think she was observant enough to know in the first place, despite how obvious she was about it.
Through all this, without Zazzalil, without the others, Jemilla was alone. Maybe she never really never belonged with that friendship group with the first place, as they looked so much happier now that she was no longer in charge. Even if Jemilla did what the other girl braved that evening, nothing would change. She missed her friends, she missed the fun they all had together and goddammit, she missed Zazzalil too.
Someone tapped on Jemilla’s shoulder and she almost slammed her elbow into the wall in surprise as she was jolted out of her thoughts. She tried to gather herself together as best as she could and turned to see the person squatting next to where she was sitting against the wall behind a shelf.
“Uh, are you okay?” He asked, frowning. Behind her was a tall guy, short brown hair and looking very concerned. Jemilla recognised him from her music class a few years ago, she didn’t remember his name though. Her mind in this state was only tossing up anything but what it possibly could be. Clive? Clint? Clank?
“Yeah, uh-huh I’m fine.” Jemilla reopened her laptop on her lap, despite how obvious it was that she hadn’t been doing any work previously.
A beat passed. “You’re crying in the library.” He stood up, somewhat more confident than before and just extended his hand. Whether it was to help Jemilla up or just for her to take, she didn’t know, it was more of an unspoken question hanging between them.
Jemilla took his hand.