Emily’s face went cold with sweat as she staggered her breath, looking around to her peers. "T-there’s no way. This just can’t be," she said, her arms shaking profusely. "Did anyone see what happened to the tray he had before, because this one obviously has to be a fake! Soone must’ve seen it, right?"
Her lips attacked the vicinity with any number of excuses, ranging from sleight of hand to outside intervention from a cohort. Of course, they all fell on deaf ears since he’d been standing in plain sight.
"Emily, just give it up," Jasmine consoled, placing her hand on Emily’s shoulder, "you lost. Use this as a lesson for the fact that stupid gas get you stupid rewards—"
"No, damn you! Are you really okay with this— having to sell myself off to that bastard?" Emily’s tone gutted Jasmine so terribly that for a second, Jasmine had to breathe out the raw anger spiraling in her chest.
"Emily, was it not that advised you to stop this madness? There was no valid reason to wager yourself in such a manner, and this is just the consequence." Unwavering, Jasmine crossed her arms in Emily’s face.
Even more furious, Emily slamd her fist into the table—fully empowered by mana—splintering its end. As sharp plastic shrapnel shot to the sky, she fully embraced her fury. "Well, I suppose I should, huh. Then maybe I’ll just murder him before he wakes up; that way I don’t have to listen to whatever perverted orders he has in store for !"
Sabrina’s face rose from the sudden provocation, gripping Logan even closer to her chest. "Emily, what the hell are you talking about?"
Sabrina’s words only received a loud snarl, the gnashing of skin along her tightened fist resounding a leather-like churn. Then, like a wild dog, she lunged across the table to where Logan rested, clawing at the air where she would et his head.
Thwam!
Even though she’d been hurtling in Logan’s direction, her path straightened just monts before. Violently, her muscles tightened—hair singed by heat as an invisible force clutched her into a dark embrace, causing her to drift just overhead of Sabrina and Logan.
Although she’d remained quiet for most of the quarrel, Alia couldn’t help but stutter at the sudden escalation, frantically skipping her attention between Emily and Jasmine.
Jasmine—with her hand raised forward in Emily’s direction—frowned sorely at the sight. "To think I would have to use my gift on you. This burns more than any fla could." Then, an affirmative nod in Sabrina’s direction. "But I know that you can’t use your magic when your hands are in use, so it was necessary."
Though it was restrained, Sabrina smiled back, brushing her hand through Logan’s hair once.
In contrast, Emily twitched wildly on the ground, wrists curved in and eyes wide with shock. "J... Jasmine... how... could you..." Painfully, Emily helped herself off the ground, grunting through every movent. "Ah, but I understand things now. You must’ve been in on it. After all, you were the first one to point out the lunch tray. What, did the F-rank know you before this?"
Jasmine could only sigh. "Think what you will, Emily, but believe it or not, your words hurt. Please, could you not talk to —or about —like that? We’re friends."
Shaking her head, Emily readjusted her now-tattered purple dress, though its damage was outshone by her ruined hair—so disheveled that it may have pointed in every possible direction. "No-o-o, Ms. Perfect. See, I always knew you were jealous of my strength, but I never thought it would get to the point you would try to ruin like this. I swear, I’ll rember this slight against ." Weakly, Emily raised her finger in Sabrina’s direction. "And you... don’t think I’ll forget about you. You’ll regret double-crossing like this."
"Emily..." Alia gasped, teary-eyed. Sabrina and Jasmine both looked directly into Emily’s eyes, faces stone-cold. Jasmine took the ti to sit down and calm herself.
With her chin raised, Emily stomped to the rightmost exit, holding the ends of her dress up even as it ripped off from the friction of her crash. With one final gesture, she threw her arm behind her, raising just her middle finger.
As Emily made her leave, the air heaved like soone who’d held their breath for too long.
At the sa ti, Logan’s chest jolted up, kicking against the underside of Sabrina’s stomach. Frightened, she raised her hands in the air, but her left hand was instantly grabbed.
"Is that you, Sabrina...?" Mumbling, Logan looked to his left, where his freshly refurbished lunch rested, and then at the two friends who seed increasingly distraught. "What happened...?"
Making his eyes take turns blinking, he acclimated to the light. Although he was the one to grab it, his hand imdiately went red once he looked above him. "Ah! I’m sorry, Sabrina, I didn’t an to—"
Warmly, Sabrina’s forehead rubbed against Logan’s once she lowered hers. "You happened, silly."
Blinking in confusion, Logan realized she was responding to his second question—Woah! Why is my face wet?
Lips blushed and eyes reddened; a torrent of raw emotion rushed from Sabrina’s eyes to Logan’s face. Instinctually, he tried to twist his body away from her grip to avoid the random droplets, but once her face squeezed inward, he withheld. "You dummy, getting yourself in trouble like that. You shouldn’t worry so much!"
Her tears, although soft and bright, punched his gut like a sledgehamr. He had to actively shake his head from the thought of reciprocating with his own explosion of feelings. "I’m sorry; that wasn’t my intention."
On the other hand, Alia and Jasmine both jumped out from their seats. "Sabrina, what are you doing? You’re in a relationship with Zack!" they shouted in unison. Sabrina looked to them just once, then back down to Logan.
"Ugh, she’s hopeless, that one," Jasmine groaned, lowering herself back to her seat. Though her face was turned, Alia could make out the faintest of smiles on her face.
Alia smiled too.
While Sabrina and Logan had been engrossed in their mont, a dozen footsteps clicked against the cold floor tiles. Bestial, Sabrina glared directly into the group’s eyes, dragging Logan back from them.
"Hey, hey, we’re not here to try anything—just an offer. After all, the F-rank’s already making himself out to be a sort of hero." The boy shook his hands in the air, eyes beaming. "Say—Logan, was it? How would you like to be our friend?"
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