18. Throw in the White Flag

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It might take a moment but we sometimes realize that life isn’t all we’d made it out to be and that the things we thought mattered don’t seem to matter as much as we thought

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It might take a moment but we sometimes realize that life isn’t all we’d made it out to be and that the things we thought mattered don’t seem to matter as much as we thought. Jamila feeling like that lately, like she didn't need to try so hard, to plan every little detail. She’d come back at Elite trying to be the girl she had been when she’d left last year but she had obviously out grown that.

It was because of these precise thoughts that she had transferred back to normal classes instead of having private lessons like the boys. She wasn’t trying to have Claire’s attention, she'd gotten it but it didn't feel as good as she expected. Instead, she wanted to focus on having a good time.

She did feel like things were as good as they were before she left, like she was on top of the food chain (something she felt she got from her father) and for now, it was enough. Sure Claire’s attention was only in the form of glared and disdain, but she felt like she belonged at Elite. And that was enough. For now.

It did irk her that Claire was still acting pretty bitchy towards her. They were in the same class but the other girl barely glanced her way no matter how many times Jamila tried to catch her eye.
She was in the bathroom right as lunch period was ending; she had come in here to throw some water on her face so she could take some of the sleep off. She’d slept pretty late last night and surprisingly it was not at a party. She was on the phone with Luke; they had spent the entire night talking and then chatting after they’d hung up.

Claire emerged from one of the stalls behind her just as she was wiping her face.

“Hey,” she said finally being courageous enough to risk not getting a reply back. It did help that Claire’s minions weren’t around and no one could see Claire treat her this way.
Claire just glanced at her and kept making her way to the sinks.
Jamila felt her lip quiver the way they did when she was about to cry. Claire saw the familiar action and relented “Hi,” she said washing her hands.

Claire wasn't a bitch. She wasn't. She just didn't want to go back to being Jamila's shadow. As far as she was concerned, Jamila leaving elite was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

“Are you mad at me or something?” Jamila asked, too tired of playing any games to force Claire to be her friend. She obviously didn’t care if Jamila could get her to sit at the hottest lunch table in school or that Jamila could afford the private classes. Or replace her with another bestie.

And Jamila didn’t want that kind of friend anyway she and Claire were more than that so why was her friend treating her like she was a mere person of inconvenience?

Claire scoffed “Is that a rhetorical question or are you just that dumb?” That hurt, Jamila was blessed with everything but brains – she wasn’t dumb but she was not as smart as all the people around her; the F4 and Claire specifically and Claire knew how she felt about this. It was probably why she'd said it.

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