S.P.E.L.T (Completed ✅️)

jealousy 💔

Days went by, and my friend—now the undisputed queen of the college, Kim Emra—kept soaking up the limelight as if it had been made just for her.

It was impossible not to feel a pang of jealousy.

I tried to keep my intentions pure, to be happy for her, but deep down, I knew that envy was lurking, waiting for the moment I would inevitably fail.

But Emra… she was so different from anyone I’d ever met.

Despite her newfound popularity, she chose to spend her time with me—only me.

She had this way of looking at me, as if she knew something about me that I didn’t.

Her gaze was penetrating, almost knowing, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was aware of the jealousy gnawing at me.

Guilty as charged.“Tamrah?” Her voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I blinked, realizing she was waving a hand in front of my face.

“Yeah?” I looked up at her, her bright, smiling face framed by those curious, ever-watchful eyes.

“I was thinking… why don’t you come to my place this weekend? We’ll have fun, and you can teach me management accounting too?” She rested her head on her hands, her pale elbows pressing against her thighs as she looked at me expectantly.

“I…” I began, hesitating as I packed up my things.

I wasn’t used to being invited anywhere, especially by someone like Emra. The prospect was both thrilling and… a bit intimidating, though I wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Okay, do send me the location,” I finally said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was already racing at the thought of spending time at her place.

“See you then?” Emra smirked, and I couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind it.

“Yes, see you, Saturday,” I nodded, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

On the way home, my mind buzzed with thoughts about what her home would be like.

Would it be grand and imposing, with marble floors and chandeliers? Who would open the door for me—her, a maid, or someone else entirely?And, irrational as it was, what if her dad didn’t like me?Seriously, who thinks that?

When I got home, I started the hunt for the perfect outfit.

Clothes flew from my closet onto the bed, creating a mountain of fabric.

After what felt like an eternity of rummaging, my eyes landed on a black silk dress—elegant, not too revealing, and the perfect length.

Best of all, it had sleeves.

I paired it with matching heels and delicate earrings, scrutinizing my reflection in the mirror.

“You’re not going on a date… stop it,” I muttered to myself, though the butterflies in my stomach begged to differ.

Excitement coursed through me, but so did the fear of overdoing it, of making too much out of something that was supposed to be casual.

After hours of preparation, I finally slipped into my sheets, closing my eyes against the thoughts that swirled in my head.

Little did I know, the next day was going to be the best day of my life.