since i am absolute hamilton trash-- jasmine cephas jones(maria reynolds and peggy schuyler in the musical hamilton) will be portraying jamilla.
also, jamilla is pronounced juh-mill-a.

also, you should probably check out my avengers(bucky barnes) fic. ;)

||Jamilla Tate||First Person||

"You know you can take a break anytime." I hear someone hum in an amused tone, alerting me immediately of their presence. I quickly turn around from my position seated on top of my new bed, abandoning the duffel bag of mine that previously had captured my attention. Becca stands in the doorframe of our dorm room, her back leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest as she looks at me judgmentally. "You've been sitting there for an hour." I turn my head back to my bag, my eyes picking out a certain article of clothing that I love with all of my heart.

I pull the shirt out of my duffel bag, my fingers running over the cotton fabric and the stitching along the sides, my gaze following the designs on the front. It's an old band t-shirt of mine, advertising the band Thirty Seconds to Mars and their album A Beautiful Lie. My mom didn't appreciate my music taste-- in fact, she despised it. I remember saving up every dollar I got from her for lunch money for a couple of weeks before I had a friend go to the mall for me and buy it. The shirt was always stashed in the very back of my closet between a couple of hoodies on the off chance that my parents decided to raid my room. It was a beacon of hope for me-- it was just as much a part of me as the music was.

"Just... Unpacking," I say with an uneasy chuckle, my breath getting caught in my throat as I immediately look down at my hands encasing the shirt, noticing the tremor that it gives. I gulp nervously. "You can go on without me, I'm tired." I choke out, unused to the prospect of going outside to hang out with friends at such a time. It was six something right now, probably the time that I would be locked up in my bedroom with my earphones jammed into my ears. Even though I am free of my parents tyrant-like rules, I still don't feel ready to make such a sudden, drastic change to my lifestyle.

"You have so much time for that later," Becca pushes herself off of the door frame with an exasperated sigh, crossing the room quickly to stand over me. She reaches out for my wrist, tightening her grasp on my arm as she attempts to pull me up to my feet. I resist moving, resulting in me tipping over on my bed and hitting the fluffy mattress hard.

"But--"

"I don't want to push you," Becca says in a playful, warning tone. I glance up at her through tired eyes and let out a sigh.

"Then don't." I rebuttal easily, the words rolling off of my tongue with ease as I stare up at the ceiling. I can tell that I've just earned a rather playful eye roll from the girl.

"You have ten minutes," she tells me with finality before she turns on her heel and quickly heads out of the room again, leaving the door wide open. I let out a soft groan, all too used to this song and dance. I roll over onto my side to stare at the wall, my eyes tracing the textures that the coat of paint had left behind. I blow a cool sigh from the part in my lips, letting my tired eyes slip closed.

My parents never let me hang out with my friends outside of class, which always was somehow a mission to explain to everyone in my grade because that's an absurd rule that their parents never made them go through. Everyone had the perfect life growing up; their parents had decent finances that never cut into food expenses far too often for it to be a mistake, they got new backpacks or clothes every school year, and they spent their summers outside with friends rather than in doors against their will. I cannot begin to count the amount of times I had to explain to the few friends that I had managed to retain that I didn't hate them and that I wasn't trying to avoid them, my parents were just very different than theirs. Still, it tarnished many relationships with people, which is exactly why I decided to drop all contact with anyone from Cleveland in an effort to forget all of that. I need to forget all of that.

I push myself off of the bouncy spring mattress with a hint of resentment still welling in my chest, bending over my knees to retrieve the sneakers I discarded by the foot of my bed. I quickly tug my shoes over my sock covered feet before I grab my phone and wallet from my bag. I get to my feet with a sigh, brushing the strands of my curly hair behind my ear as I move towards the door.

If I want to live a new life, I'm going to have to work for it.

-|-/-

I follow behind the group of people down the sidewalk, my hands jammed into the pockets of my skinny jeans. Nate and Becca are walking ahead of me with Tara Lakeland, Scarlett Evans, and some other guys that I have no clue of their names. I blow out a sigh of cool air, personally not liking the way that my 'new start' is going already. It's my first day on campus and I've already somehow managed to become a seventh wheel in a group of people, even when I was personally invited along. I mentally give myself a sad round of applause for already having trouble with the whole friend-making business.

"Jamilla, right?" One of the boys that was walking ahead alongside Nate falls back in his step to walk along side me, a smile curling his lips up at the corners. I nod my head slowly as I move and offer him a plastic smile, hoping I don't look too annoyed. "I'm Mark." He tells me with a large grin.

"Hi, Mark." I say stupidly, inwardly cringing at how awkward my words sound. He lets out a light chuckle as he runs a hand through his brown hair, not seeming fazed at all by my response. I hope desperately that my feelings haven't disobeyed me and that I'm not blushing in embarrassment at this point.

"You're friends with Tyler and Josh, right?" He asks me, and for a second I can't put a face to the names that he's giving me even after the large impact they already had on my first day here. I pin that on my nerves-- it was actually fucking nerve wracking having to talk to someone that I don't know. He opens his mouth as if to further elaborate when he senses my confusion, which is when it belatedly hits me that Tyler is the sassy looking High School Musical guy and Josh is the boy with the brilliant smile that I couldn't stop running into today.

"I wouldn't say that." I tell him, my fingers instinctively reaching to tuck my curls behind my ears when they start to cover my face.

"What would you say then?" He raises his eyebrows in an inquisitorial way, prying further than I'd appreciate him doing. I huff out a sigh that I am one hundred percent sure came out far more negatively than I meant it to.

"I'd say that they're just my neighbours." I hum, my eyes flickering from the taller boy to straight ahead of me, where the rest of the group is leading me along. "Why do you ask anyways?"

"Common friends make for conversation," he shrugs his shoulders as a soft chuckle rolls off of his tongue, his eyes still peering down at my face. "You from around here, or?"

"Cle--" I pause myself before my automatic response could slip out and blow my entire stupid narrative, biting my bottom lip as I inhale slowly. "Cincinnati." I tell him.

"You sure?" He laughs jokingly, and even though I can tell that he's just kidding around with me, my heart still jumps somewhere in my chest at the thought of ever being traced back to that nightmare. "Just kidding," he adds after seeing the expression on my face, which is covered with a nervous and uneasy smile that anyone with proper functioning eyes could see right through.

"Yeah," I say uncomfortably, still bearing the smile on my face that has become my trademark. I inhale slowly and surely, aware that this was going to be a long evening.

By the time we arrive at the local campus dine-in, I'm simply exhausted by the idea of having to maintain small talk with people that seem to know so much about each other already. I've placed my bets on the idea that they've all lived in the same city with the same friends at the same school which is why it's so easy for them to hold conversations with each other. Mark isn't bad-- it's just that he's awkward. My awkward and his awkward are no match for each other-- we both drown in a sea of awkwardness that simply not speaking could solve easily. An hour of small talk that I would rather stab myself in the eyes rather than endure goes by before I pack up my stuff and sneak off. I don't think anyone seems to notice.

"Hey, Jamilla, right?" I don't want to seem like one of those whiny, negative people, but if I had a dollar for every time I've heard those three words in that specific order from someone that I don't know today, I'd be Tony Stark level rich. Sadly though, I'm a broke college student without any clue about what I want to do with my life-- or how to hold a proper conversation. I glance behind me to see a young girl approaching me, her cell phone tucked in her manicured hands as she skips down the concrete steps to get on my level. I recognize her because of the bright red, dyed pixie cut that she sports. I take not of the fact that she is dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and a white tank top that contrasts beautifully against her brown skin. She takes a seat on the steps, right next to me, and lets her wrists cross over her knees as she gets comfortable. I don't know what to do at that moment-- Tara Lakeland hasn't said much to me in the past hour. I don't know her well enough to strike up a conversation.

"Yeah," I agree awkwardly. "Tara?" I face her so I can do a quick study of her features-- she has almond shaped brown eyes that match my own irises, a small nose piercing in the form of a stud, and a lip piercing that looks like it must have been painful. I try not to wince, knowing that the facial piercings don't hurt her any longer.

"Mhm," she hums with a cool intonation, her eyes staring off into the evening sky. Her eyes twinkle as they watch the artistic hues of colour blending into what will soon be sunset. "You're not from Columbus." She points out, as if she knows far more than she lets on. It makes me uncomfortable-- the fact that everyone I've met so far today could just tell that I'm not actually from Columbus.

"Cincinnati." I say shyly, breathing in the cool air.

"I don't believe you." She states with ease, startling me to no end. I look at her with wide eyes, my lips moving rapidly with no sound coming out. I gulp nervously, my tongue going dry. She looks at me with a small smile, her eyes studying me intently. "You're not a convincing liar."

"Who says I'm lying?" I finally manage to rebut her, my hands trembling as I rub my clammy palms off on my jeans. Tara, in her entire cool and controlled manner, let's out a soft laugh in response.

"You." She replies with a smile. "So what is it?" I look down at my sneakers, feeling a sense of failure coiling within me. How did I manage to give off the vibe of me being a liar on my first day-- especially with someone like Tara who appears so... intimidating? It's probably just her piercings.

"I don't have to tell you." I mention, hoping that my voice comes off strong enough. She lets out a soft chuckle before she leans back against the concrete stairs, her elbow resting lightly on the block.

"You don't," she agrees. "But how long can you hide it?"

"Do you always read people like this?" I turn around to look at her, genuine curiosity in my words. She sighs softly before she opens her mouth again.

"Just the lost ones."

-/::\-

lots of love xx

-leavenowordsunspoken