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Sometimes Floyd forgot but sometimes he’d remember. It pretty much depended on what mood he was in at that moment. He sat quietly at the bleachers of the gym, rehydrating himself with an inhuman gulp of the energy drink he brought to basketball practice. It was seriously hot today, he thought. The moray eel couldn’t tell if it was the weather nearing summer or the cumulative warmth radiating from the basketball club running up and down the court. His odd eyes followed his club mates chasing after each other, then followed the ball speared through the air eventually finding home in tanned slender hands. Those red and yellow wristbands, Floyd knew those anywhere. Jamil had successfully intercepted the opposite team’s passing course and stole the ball.
The merman watched Jamil pull a fast one, quickly dribbling the ball all the way to the other side of the court and shoot for the hoop before the rest of the players could catch up to him. Of course, he scored. Floyd couldn’t help but smile.
“Nice shot, Sea Snake!” he cheered, his voice echoing shamelessly from the bleachers.
Jamil spared him a glance and a hand gesture, letting him know he heard that. Ahh, Sea Snake spirals back into a polite people-pleasing student sometimes. Floyd wished Jamil would show him more of what he saw of him back in beanfest, back when he overblotted. Floyd remembered. He knew Jamil was quite athletic, whether he actually shows it off also depended on his mood, Floyd thought. Sea Snake is good at flight, basketball, dancing and even in combat. Floyd wasn’t the type to remember details about most students outside of Octavinelle, but remembered that about Jamil very well. He was getting too excited for his own good. Should he replace someone from the opposing team right now so he can go one-on-one with Jamil again?
“Geh, what’s with that face?” Ace commented, pulling Floyd out of his thoughts.
“What was that Crabby?” Floyd turned to his side, finding the Heartslabyul freshmen seated beside him.
“Ahh, it’s nothing,” Ace recomposed himself, still very much alarmed by the crazed look in Floyd’s eyes. “I just thought you looked like you’d want to be on court right now.”
“I dooo!” the moray whined, his eyes back on the court, or rather on Jamil’s back. “It’s unfair. Why doesn’t he ever ask me to be on his team?”
He? Ace followed Floyd’s line of sight. Jamil. Of course. Ace knew exactly why Jamil didn’t ask Floyd to be on his team with his mood swings and all, but he valued his life and said something else unrelated. “Time’s almost up for this quarter anyway. You can play in the next-”
“I don’t want to play in the next quarter!”
“Whoaa, okay,” Ace fought a full body flinched, hearing Floyd’s voice flip from whiny to murderous within seconds of their conversation. “Well, what do you want then? I thought you were itching to play.”
“I do want to play. But right now, I don’t want to play basketball,” Floyd sighed, growing restless in his seat. “I want to play with Sea Snake.”
Only Sea Snake?
Floyd had a realization.
The moray thought he rarely saw eye to eye with Azul but now, with his mismatched eyes following the Scarabian vice housewarden’s back, he realized. He realized why Azul always exerted so much effort into extending his hand to this one student, not even the typical rich ones he’d obviously get something in return for. Jamil was Kalim’s servant, wasn’t he? Even Floyd knew that. He also realized why he was so dead set on going one-on-one with Sea Snake for beanfest when there were others who could’ve probably put up a better fight. Wait, no. There wasn’t anyone. Only Sea Snake. Even now there’s only Sea Snake.
Floyd had a realization.
He might be sick with something and it better not be Jade’s mushrooms again. Maybe, just maybe, if Floyd could wrap his large hands around Jamil's neck once, squeeze him dry as those sharp eyes stare up at him defiantly, he'd feel a little less sick.
That's right. It's not his fault Jamil always acts like he wants to be squeezed.