“Not meant for me.” I cringe.
Great word play,y Tilly.
“I mean, it was about me, just not supposed to be sent to me.” I breathe out. “He sent it to me accidentally.”
“Accidentally? What do you mean?”
“Like, he was asking Matt for help with something, and he sent it to me instead.” I cringe, feeling my cheeks heat up. “I, um, I have it on my phone if you want to see?”
She nods slowly, and I hand it over. The silence as she reads feels heavy.
One side of me feels like I’m doing the right thing.
The other, bigger, side is screamingwhat the hell are you doing?
Her expression doesn’t change, which makes me nervous enough to fidget. My fingers twist in the towel on my lap.
“So?” I break the unbearable silence.
She sets my phone down on the counter and looks me in the eye, her tone suddenly low and dangerous. “I swear I’m going to kill that guy.”
I jump, slightly panicked. “No! Please don’t be mad. He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help it. I told him I don’t feel the same, and he took it surprisingly well. He’s acting normal again. Everything’s fine. Promise me you won’t kill him.”
Yana’s eyes soften a fraction, but she stays serious. “But do you?”
“What?” My chest hitches.
“Do you feel the same?” she asks. “Truthfully,” she adds.
“What?!” I snap a little too loudly, and immediately curse myself for sounding panicky.
“No! Absolutely not! I look at him like a best friend! I can’t see him as more than that. It would ruin everything.”
I imagine what would happen and internally, and probably externally, shake. “Absolutely not!”
Yana’s brow furrows, suspicion creeping into her tone. “To me, it sounds like you’re listing reasons why you shouldn’t like him… not whether you actually do or don’t.”
I blink at her, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Yana, be serious. You know me better than anyone. Don’t twist my words or make me feel confused.”
Her shoulders relax slightly, and she sets her brush down completely, leaning forward on the counter. “Tills, I just need you to know how you really feel. You’re sure you don’t like him?”
“Not like that,” I tell her solemnly.
She hesitates, her voice softening, almost cracking with worry. “This could potentially mess up our friendship if—”
“I know!” I blurt, my own voice trembling with nerves and frustration.
If you like him in a way that makes you want to kiss him until you are out of breath.
As if I haven’t thought of that every single day.
“Let me finish, please.” She gives me a look that convinces me to shut up.
“I didn’t mean that if you hypothetically liked him, it could ruin things. I mean… if you’re lying to yourself, it could. I don’t want a scenario where you suddenly realize you love him when he’s already moved on… or thinks you don’t. So, I need you to really think. Only then can you tell me how you actually feel.”
I sink back a little, letting the weight of her words hit me.
I love Luca… as a friend.
