The green-eyed monster

I don’t like the way Jasmine’s hair moves when she walks. Why does she have to smile to everyone she meets? And why does everyone seem to like her? The teachers always ask her to help them with something. What’s the deal? I know how to do things, too. But it’s always Jasmine.

“Hey, Sharon! What are you doing here? And who are you staring at?” Amie interrupted my thoughts.

“Oh, hi. I was just looking for my eraser.” I lied.

“Here? What would your eraser be doing behind all these shelves?” she asked in disbelief. I was about to say something when she saw Jasmine pass by.

“Jas! Jasmine! Wait for me!” Amie ran after her. Ugh, she’s just like the rest of them. What’s with that girl, anyway?

After class, I saw Jasmine crying in her seat. Surprisingly, no one seemed to notice. They were all in a hurry to go home. I was the only one left in the classroom with her but I was ready to leave, too.

“Sharon…” I stopped walking when I heard her call my name. Or did she? Maybe I was just imagining it. I continued walking but she grabbed my arm. Taken by surprise, I shoved her back to her seat.

“What do you want?” I glared at her. “Have you seen my diary? It’s not in my bag and I know it was just on my table before I went to the restroom this afternoon,” she explained. 

“No idea. Don’t care.” I left without saying another word. It’s not my problem. She should be more responsible with her things.

She was absent from class the next day. Our classmates were talking about her. They were so worried. I went behind the shelves to retrieve the notebooks I hid there. I noticed that there was one notebook which did not belong to me. I was just going to drop it on the floor when the front cover caught my eye.  It had a big J on it, written in calligraphy. I flipped the cover open and there I saw Jasmine’s photo. It must be the diary she was looking for. I looked around and saw Amie watching me intently.

 I remembered that Amie was also behind the shelves the day before.  Before I could form any conclusion, she signaled me to be quiet. That confirmed my suspicion. I didn’t want to be anyone’s suspect so I gave the diary to our class adviser and told her where I found it.

“How could you do that, Amie?” I confronted her. “You don’t like Jasmine and, well, I hate her.”

She confessed.  Teacher Adel heard her. “Actually, it doesn’t matter how much you dislike a person, but it is not good to hide her things to make her worry. You both know she did nothing wrong. Now apologize to Jasmine, Amie.”