Jasmine slammed her locker a little harder than usual.
She'd been holding it in for weeks—watching Zariah drift deeper into herself, offering her every ounce of comfort she could, and still… still… watching her best friend crumble like sand in her fingers.
She didn't know what else to do.
Zariah met her behind the gym again after school, like they always did. Her sleeves were pulled low, her hair a little messier, her eyes duller than yesterday. She dropped into the grass like a shadow.
Jasmine didn't sit this time.
"I need to say something," she said, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Zariah blinked slowly, like she was too tired to even react. "Okay…"
"I can't keep being the only one who knows."
Zariah flinched. It wasn't loud, but it hit like thunder.
"I'm scared," Jasmine said, her voice trembling. "I'm scared every day. That I'll text you and you won't answer. That I'll call and get your voicemail. That I'll come over and it'll be too late."
Zariah looked down. Her fingers clenched the hem of her sleeve. "I didn't ask you to—"
"No. You didn't. But I chose to be here. And I still want to be. But I can't be the only one keeping you alive."
Silence fell. Cold. Heavy.
"You said you don't want help. Fine," Jasmine said, her voice quieter now. "But you have to let someone else in. A teacher. A counselor. Your mom. Someone. Or I swear, I'm going to."
Zariah's head snapped up, tears already brimming in her eyes. "You wouldn't."
"I would," Jasmine said, and she meant it. "Because I'd rather have you hate me and alive… than love me and gone."
Zariah opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. Just a broken sob that slipped past her lips like a secret that had been buried too long.
Jasmine finally sat beside her.
"I love you," she whispered, holding her hand. "But I can't do this alone. And you shouldn't have to either."
Zariah didn't respond. But she didn't let go either.
She just cried into Jasmine's shoulder as the sun dipped low behind the gym, and the weight of being seen—really seen—wrapped around her like a blanket she hadn't known she needed.