Thursday Night – Emma's Room
She got things done. She set alarms. She color-coded her notebooks. She fixed problems before they became disasters.
Crying didn't fix anything.
That's what she told herself as she sat at her desk, hands folded neatly over a list of council reports, meeting notes, and midterm planning materials.
She had rewritten the meeting agenda three times already.
It was flawless.
So why did it feel like something was… off?
Morning – St. Ivy High
"Sinclair! You're still helping the council, right?" a second-year girl called across the hall, slightly breathless.
Emma didn't slow down.
"Yeah. I've got the updated booth layouts. Tell President Hanamura I'll send them before lunch."
"Ugh, thank you! You're saving my life!"
Emma gave a quick, tight smile.
She wasn't officially a council member—first-years rarely were—but she had been invited to assist by the upperclassmen. Technically, she was still "learning the ropes."
Unofficially? Everyone already treated her like one of them.
Her eyes wandered to the nearby bulletin board—trip photos pinned across it in colourful layers.
In one picture, her arms were folded, voice probably mid-sentence.
Behind her, just out of focus—Jay.
Not posed. Not smiling big. Just there.
She looked away.
Council Room – Thursday's Session
Emma sat at the far end of the long table. The president and other second-years were mid-discussion, debating traffic flow between booths.
She waited, polite but poised, flipping pages in her binder with practiced precision.
"Emma," the president said, "you've been analysing event logistics, right?"
She nodded. "I recommend moving the food stalls to the outer courtyard. If we funnel people past the display booths first, we'll boost visibility and avoid overcrowding."
Silence.
Then nods.
Respectful ones.
Emma glanced across the room. None of them looked at her like a first-year.
But still... something was missing.
Jay would've raised his hand, said something dumb like:
"What if we set up a cupcake ambush near the entrance?"
It would've made everyone laugh—even her.
She blinked. Looked back down at her binder.
"...I'll update the layout," she said quietly.
After School – On Her Own
Emma didn't go home right away.
Instead, she wandered. No destination. Just walking.
She ended up in the courtyard, where spring buds had started blooming. The same courtyard where Jay once challenged her to a "debate under a tree" for fun.
She sat alone under that tree now. Not a single debate in sight.
She pulled out her phone. Opened the class group chat. Scrolled.
Tyler and Sofia were bantering. Miles was posting stats again. Amaya had reacted with a few hearts.
Jay hadn't messaged in two months.
She hadn't deleted the chat.
She couldn't.
The Aquarium Ticket
At home, she finally opened her desk drawer.
There, between a stack of council folders and neatly arranged pens, was the folded aquarium ticket from that day.
The day Jay asked her to come with him again.
"I just want one more day," he'd said.
At the time, she'd rolled her eyes. Called him dramatic.
But when she saw his face?
She said yes.
She'd even enjoyed it. Quietly. Carefully.
And she'd noticed something.
His laughter had sounded like it was borrowed. Like he'd stolen it from someone else just to give it to her.
She stared at the ticket.
And this time—
Tears started rolling from her eyes, without she even realizing.
She did cry.
That night, she wrote nothing in her journal.
Just drew three tiny dots.
A pause.
And underneath them, a question:
"Why do I miss someone who never promised to stay?"
She didn't have an answer.
But the silence of her room was heavier than any council meeting she'd ever led.